CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
J. C. LAWRENCE, MAYOR.
TWELFTH SESSION, HELD OCTOBER 25TH, 1869.
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, October 25th, 1869, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE, M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir HENRY SINGER KEATING, Knt., one of Her Majesty's Justices of the Court of Common Please; Sir ROBERT LUSH, Knt., one of Her Majesty's Justices of the Court of Queen's Bench; THOMAN SIDNEY, Esq., DAVID SALOMONS, Esq., M.P., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Sir WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE , Knt., Sir THOMAS GABRIEL, Bart, Sir SYDNEY HEDLET WATERLOW, Knt., and THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq, Aldermen of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.D., Judge of the Sheriffs Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Over and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judge of the Central Criminal Court.
JOSEPH CADSTON, Esq., Alderman.
JAMES VALLENTINE, Esq.
ALEXANDER CROSLEY, Esq.
ALEXANDER JOHN BAYLIS, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
J, C. LAWRENCE, MAYOR. TWELFTH 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 that 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, October 25th, 1869,
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALISE the Defence.
EDWARD TEESLAND . I am a constable and watchman in the service of the North London Railway, and live at 6, Risholm Terrace, Victors Park—in 1857, I was living at 17, Wellington Street, Camden Town—I had a daughter named Aim Elizabeth—she was married to the prisoner at St." I Pancras Church—I was present at the marriage—she is now alive and living with me—she lived with the prisoner about three weeks after their I marriage; she then left him and went to a situation at Hastings—I have I lived at 17, Wellington Street thirty-three years—I have only just removed to where I now live; since my wife died, three months ago—among her papers I found this letter, purporting to be addressed to her—I don't know the prisoner's writing—I know Oliver's hotel, kept by a man named Oliver in 1860—I did not hear that the prisoner was going to be married again—I never heard from him for eight years.
Cross-examined. Q. Your daughter left him three weeks after their I marriage? A. Yes—I can't say whether she went to live with a man named Stevens—she went to live at an hotel at Hastings—I heard that there vas a waiter there named Stevens—I believe she went from there to Ireland—I heard no more of her for three years—I believe she never saw the prisoner after she left him—the prisoner advertised' her, and circulated many scandalous bills all about the neighborhood—my wife had them, but kept them from me—I never saw them till lately.
ELIZA COOPER . I was formerly the wife of James Cooper, who kept the Albion tavern and refreshment rooms, at King Street, Greenwich—the prisoner was a waiter there—my husband died six or seven years ago last september, I can't recollect exactly—the prisoner continued to act as waiter.—I had two houses of business at that time—on 8th June, 1866 I was married
to the prisoner at St. Bartholomew's Church, Islington—I did not know that he had a wife alive—I went with him on one occasion to the Nunhead Cemetery, and he went into a house and left some money for a grave-digger to make up the grave of his wife that was dead—I knew he had been married previously—I believed his wife was dead—he told me so—after we were married, in June, 1806, we lived together at the Albion—I am not living there now—he sold all my furniture, and took all my money—I have not a peony—he sold everything over my head—I am houseless and homeless—hero is one of the bills—the letter produced is in the prisoner's handwriting.
Cross-examined. Q. What is that bill? A. It is a bill of the sale of my furniture—the prisoner went into partnership with my husband two or three months before his death—the prisoner bad no money—he was only in partnership as to the house we lived in—he did not pay any money into the concern—he said he had money, but he had not—I did not quarrel with my late husband—I was not charged at the Police Court with beating him, I charged him—he used to drink, and was excitable then, but he was not a bad husband—he always, gave me money—this man did not—he did not I show marks and bruises at the Police Court, and charge me with doing it—I could not tell you now—the prisoner persuaded me to take my husband before the Magistrate, for he said I had endured too much—I had been married before—I was married to Cooper; that man was prosecuted for I bigamy—I did not prosecute him, my mother did—I did not marry Cooper till two years afterwards—after Cooper died, in 1865, I did not always continue to live in the same house with the prisoner—I had two houses, and I sometimes I was as one and sometimes at the other—the prisoner continued I to live at the Albion, and till we were married he slept in his own room—that was not the room in which I slept—I did not sleep in the same room I with him for several years before I married him—I did for a short time; I will say six months—he used to give it out that I was Mrs. Maynard—I did not do so—the bill of sale under which the furniture was sold, was given twelve months ago—it was not given long before I married him—I have not got it here—I did not know the prisoner had had a wife from when he had been separated seven or eight years—I know John Tickey—I new said in his presence that Maynard had parted with his wife, and did not know what had become of her—I never said that his wife had left him eight or ten years before, taking his savings' bank book with her, and playing up the devil with him—I never said that we were waiting till the seven years had expired, find then we were going to be married; nothing of the kind—I was living with him without being married because the business tied me so much—I used to do the cooking—we were to have been roamed some time before, but the business detained us—he did not say we must wait till the seven years had elapsed—I never said so to anybody—to wanted to be married by license—he came to us from Hastings—I believe he was at times a waiter at the House of Commons.
MR. POLAND. Q. Were you married by banns? A. Yes, at Islington, because a friend of mine, who lived there, wished to be present at the wedding, and she was not very well, and could not come to Greenwich—there was no deed of partnership between my husband and the prisoner, there was an agreement.
charged with feloniously intermarrying with Eliza Cooper, his wife Ann being then and now living—he said, "I had not seen my wife, for eight or nine years;" and, nodding to Mrs. Cooper, he said, "She knew I was a married man, and she pressed me, to do it."
Cross-examined. Q. Mrs. Cooper heard that I suppose? A. I can't say whether she did or not—she was present—I can't say whether she made any remark upon it—I did not hear her.
We letter of the prisoner, dated 12th November, 1860, was put, in and read; it referred to his wife, in strong terms of abuse, and stated that he had circulated handbills, warning the public of her character, and stated that of the man she was living with.
GUILTY . Several witnesses deposed to his good character and to acts of all-usage on the part of Mrs. Cooper.—One Month's Imprisonment.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS as-fended George Webb; and MESSRS GRIFFITHS and HUNT defended Charles Webb.
JOSEPH DODGE . I live at 2, Canterbury Place, Lambeth Road—I was: a clerk—in March, 1866, I made, the acquaintance of Charles Webb, and he employed me as clerk, at 54, Cornhill—there was an office there—it consisted of two rooms, on the, second, floor;, at least, one room, and a little lobby—I knew him by the name of Charles Webb, and no others—the business carried on was the London and Provincial Plate Glass Insurance Company—that was put on the office-door; and also on the doors, at the entrance of the passage—I was to have 25s. a week—I made the arrangement with Charles Webb—I saw nothing of George Webb till six months or more afterwards—I was there, altogether, about eighteen months—I was, engaged on 18th March. 1866, and I went about a week afterwards—I continued there till August, 1867, regularly, except being occasionally laid up with the gout—Charles Webb acted as manager of the company—there were forms of policies in the office—I was asked by Charles Webb to sign in the name of Joseph Watts Lodge—he did not like the name of Dodge—I occasionaly signed policies, not many—a few—I made them out—I signed them as secretary—Charles Webb signed his name as Charles Randall—I under stand his name is Charles Randal Webb—I frequently, saw, him sign as Charles Rahdall—George Webb came there occasionally while I was there—I don't know that he did anything at first—I believe, after some months. he was appointed as an agent—I never received, any Moneys from him—I did not give him like policies—after he became agent he might, come there more frequently—I can't say how often—he had nothing to do with the policies, so far as I know, except receiving them occasionally, I suppose, to take out, after they were executed—I never saw him pay over any moneys or receive any from Charles—I knew Frederick Webb—I Was not present at his trial—I have seen him there many times—he sometimes brought me my Money—I have seen him sign policies; but I never noticed what he signed; it was no business of mine—Frederick Webb used to, pass, in the name of Sidney, in the way of receipts, when he was out as an agent—I think I once saw a receipt signed by him in the name of Sidney—it might have been a policy, I can't say—it is over two years ago—I know of no
other person of the name of Sidney—I have seen a person of the name of Webster at the office—he has been dead some months—he come there from the first; in fact, it was he who introduced me to Charles Webb—he was an agent, and, I suppose, part of the company—I never saw anyone else, except John Webb, another brother—he is also dead—he died early in 1867—this order, directed to Mr. Mote, is not signed by me—I could not swear whose writing It is—I should imagine it was Charles Webb; it has C, C. W. underneath—I should not like to swear it; I believe it is—here is another order to Mr. Mote—I don't know whose writing it is—it is not mine—it is a similar form to the other—it is a form in use in the office—the C. G. W the same—I can't swear for the other part—here are five orders in my writing—I wrote them by the direction of Charles Webb—I believe the whole of these others to be in Charles Webb's writing—this letter of 1st September, 1866, directed to Mr. Mote is my writing, by the direction of Charles. Webb—previous to writing that letter Mr. Mote had been wanting payment of money—(Read: "Dear Sir, your account is to hand; it till be examined and reported upon in a few days. Yours respectfully, James Watts Lodge, secretary")—This one was also written by me by Charles Webb's direction; "London, September 17th, 1866. Dear Sir. I am instructed by the directors to inform you that your account will be settled on 8th October."—I wrote those letters from instructions, I copied them from written instructions, on loose pieces of paper—I am sure I wrote them by the direction of Charles Webb—I did not call his attention to the expression "the directors," I thought it was all bond fide—OK 30th March, 1867, I wrote this letter to Mote—that was from instructions: "Dear Sir. We shall be happy to see you here next Thursday, to make some definite arrangements relatives to your account. Yours respectfully, J. W. Lodge."—I saw Mr. Mote at the office once, I imagine that was after I had written that letter—he was not paid any money, that I am aware of—there is more than one person's hand writing to this policy—the second signature, George Edward, is that of I Webster—the body of it is mine, that was my duty—I filled up the policies by Charles Webb's direction—he has signed it in the name of Charles Randall—I did not give out the policy, I merely made it out—I can't tell bow many policies like that I have made out—some days there were not any—it might go for weeks without any—there was a policy kept, and the rotation number was kept correctly from some number that was started with—I should say they did not begin with No. 1—I commenced from a book that was in use—this is a written number—I should say I filled up nearer 500 than 100, I should think over a thousand—this is not the policy book, it is an agency book—part of it is in my writing—it was kept in the office—it contains the names of the agents—I could not say that I made out policies for all the agents—I have seen the agents at the office—I cant tell what has become of them—there might have been many policies issued from the office, not through agents—I have taken money occasionally by instruction—if any person brought money to pay into the office I took it, and that would be used for petty cash—very little was received—the money was paid for the insurance of their plate glass—in those cases the polices were issued—my name is down in this book as an agent—policies issued at the office was not put down as my agency business—my agency business was very little—I got it by making applications, the same as other agents, and I was paid a commission upon the custom I introduced from out of doors—this letter (produced) is not my writing—I don't know whose it is—
it is written on one of the headings of the company that were in use in the office—I don't think any claims were made for broken glass for six or seven months after George Webb came there—I can't say how many claims were made while I was there—a great many were made where the glass was replaced—not only by Mr. Mote but by other parties who have paid small amounts, 6l. or 7l.—I could not tell how many claims, altogether, have been made, without the entry-book—I don't know where it is—every claim was attended to as soon as it could be, according to instructions—when I left the company, about 25l. or 26l. was owing to me for wages—I left because I became disgusted with the affair—I could not positively swear whether, before I left, persons had complained that they could not get their glass replaced—there might hare been one or two instances—I believe everything was replaced as far as they could possibly do it—I could not point out any special case where a claim was made and not paid, of cannot remember any—it is two years ago—I knew nothing of the office at 14A, Lime Street—I never went there—all the time I was employed it was at cornhill.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. When did you first join this company? A. In March, 1866—that was not in consequence of an advertisement—there were a good many agents—a great many of them were defaulters—I could not say the amount, but something considerable—plate glass vans Were used for the company—Whether was one of the directors—I was not, I was secretary—I merely signed by order—I never knew why Charles Webb signed his name Charles Randall, unless it was to give greater weight to the company—he never told them the reason—plate glass was bought and paid for (looking at some receipts)—I have not seen any of these before—I know nothing of them, they are all receipts for plate glass—there was so Mr. Lewis in the firm in my time.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Can you tell me about the date when George Webb became an agent of the company? A. I have no date—I should say it was six or seven months from the commencement—I can't tell when Mr. Mote first began to serve the company—I should think it was before George Webb became an agent—there were agents living in different parts of the town—as far as I know, George Webb simply acted as an agent, the same as the others.
MR. BESLEY. Q. What was the commission allowed to agents? A. 15 percent, on the premiums received—I suppose the agents were all defaulters, as far as I know—I don't know anything at all about it—I could name one or two who were defaulters—I can't specify the amount—a person named Stevens was a defaulter—there might have been others—this book would not show it—this is not the cash-book, it is merely a rough-book—it is not my writing—the index containing the names of the agents is Charles Webb's writing—my name appears here as an agent—I was not a defaulter—I received a very small amount—it is not entered here—I could not say whether George Webb with a defaulter—he never paid me any money—I find here an entry at page 85, in Charles Webb's writting of 15l. 7s. 3d. as being earned by George Webb up to April 1867—I had nothing to do with that, and I know nothing about It—I only know of you defaulters, Stevens and another—I could not tell Stevens amount—this took would not show it—there is no cash account in it—this is merely to how the amount of business done—it would show the commission received, to not the moneys paid over—I fitted up this policy before the signatures were put to it this Examined, J. D., "means myself Joseph Dodge."
SAMUEL MOTE . I live at 131, Marlborough Road, Chelsea, and in was a glazier—in the beginning of April, 1866, Charles Webb called at my place, and told me that he was going to take an agency for a plate glass insurance company, and he thought he could make it something worth my while—he thought he could get me some work—I said, "Very well"—he said, "You will have to put it in very low, as other people will go against you; all I shall want out of it is 2 1/2 per cent."—he did not tell me at that time where the office was, but afterwards I had frequent orders sent me to replace breakages—these (produced) are the orders—I saw Charles Webb several times afterwards, and spoke to him—I paid, "You seem to be doing a good trade"—he said, "Yes, there are other persons doing portions of it; I shall get you as much as I can."—I saw George Webb afterwards, twice, that was after I had applied for my money—I only sent in one account—Charles Webb represented the form as being a bond fide one, and of course I did not like to send in the bill too quickly—I let it run on for five months—it was then between 90l. and 100l.—the first time I saw George Webb was When I and my lawyer went to the office in Cornhill—we went up stairs—there was nobody there, only a lot of people on the stairs waiting to see some one and they said we were some of the arm and knew all about it—we waited on the stairs from 9 till 10 o'clock—there was no one there—I then went to get some refreshment, and returned and saw Mr. Dodge—I saw George Webb that same morning in the office—the persons who had been waiting on the stairs were then gone—there were about ten men and women—George Webb and Dodge were together in the office—my lawyer talked to them, and said, "I can see what you are; give my client 20l. in lieu of his 100l., and I will give you a note of hand, free of all demands"—"Is that right," he said to me—I said, "Yes"—George Webb went away to fetch the 20l., and I was to come back in two hours to receive it—when I came back the office was closed—I afterwards received this letter—(Read: "'Change Alley Chambers, 24, Cornhill. April 17. air. Your having proposed to take 20l. cash in settlement of your claim against the London and Provincial Plata Glass Company, I hereby agree to get the directors to pay the above sum at your office, 59, Friday Street, on Monday next, at 12 o'clock. Yours, &c., T. Fowler"—I never got any money, not a farthing—I know nothing of Mr. Fowler.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. Do you know that other persons besides you were employed to supply plate glass to the company? A. I have since ascertained it—I went to the office several times on the day I speak of, I dare say every hour up to 4 o'clock—I have been there about fifty times, and only found the office open twice, and then Mr. Dodge was there.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. How long did you act for the company altogether, then? A. Six or seven mouths, not more—I did not see. George Webb till the lost thing, when I last applied for my money—I should have been content to abandon all proceedings if I had received the 20l.
CAROLINE RAPPEN . I take care of the offices at 24, Cornhill—Mr. Lodge had a room there on the third floor—I saw Charles Webb come to the places—I knew him as Mr. Randall—I used to take in a great many letters—I did not sec anyone acting in the office, except Lodge and Randall—a great many persons came there for money for broken glass—I don't know whether they have been paid—the office was open from 9 till 4 o'clock—it was closed up for two or three months before they left, and on one could get in.
JAMES STEEL . I live at 196, Queen's Board, Dalston, and am an oilman—in November, 1868, Charles Webb came to me and wanted to know if I would insure my plate glass—I told him I would—he said he belonged to the Plate Glass Insurance Company—two days after George Webb came with the policy, and I paid him 5s.—he left this policy (produced)—I asked him what he was, and he said, he had brought the policy—I said, "Well, it is rather quick work"—I asked him what I should do if a breakage took place, and he said the company was at 14A, Lime Street, and if I applied to them, it would be all right—I have had no occasion to make any claim,—
DAVID BINKS . I keep the Bull in the Pound, Stamford Street, Blackfriars Road—I am insured in this plate glass office, 24, Cornhill—I commenced in 1867—I can't say who it was I saw when I first insured, but it was a party who signed himself George Wood—Charles Webb called upon me with the policy, in November, 1868, he then said the office was removed from Cornhill, to 14A, Lime Street, and he persuaded me to insure my lamps; I issued them for 4s.—I also paid him the premium for the platt glass—he gave me this receipt—about a month after that my glass was broken, and I made application for it to be restored—I had the shutter up for eight weeks, and made several applications during that time, and at last I had to put it in at my own expense—about February or March this year, I went to the office—I did not see anyone there, the door was locked.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Dol understand you to swear that you never saw George Webb in your life? A. I will not swear that I did—I saw him at the Police Court, but I would not swear then that he was the man.
WILLIAM WENMOTH . I am a tailor, and live at 45, Great Titchfield Street—on 25th August, 1868, Charles Webb called at my shop for the premium of insurance—I had previously insured with him—in August, 1868, I paid him 8s. 6d., and received this receipt from him—I had paid him the same amount the year previously—I know nothing of the paid except from the receipts—they were signed by Charles Webb—I also have a receipt for August, 1869—Charles Webb came to my place then—he was taken into custody at the time, and had not time to sign the receipt.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. You had no plate glass broken? A. No—when the detective was there, I did not say, "I have got the receipt, the money is yours, you can do what you please with it"—he had put the money into his pocket at that time, and it was taken from him at the station—it was not lying on the counter—he asked me if I was going to press the charge, and he offered the money to me—the policeman waved his hand, which meant that I was not to take it—I held the receipt in my hand—I did not say anything about the receipt—the prisoner did not say that as he had given me the proper receipt he would take the money—I don't remember him saying, "You may depend upon it there is to fraud, or I should not have called upon you"—the detective was present all the time.
BROWN WOLSEY WEBB . I live at 87, Great Titchfield Street, and am a cheesemonger—at the end of October, 1868, George Webb called upon was—he asked me whether my plate glass was insured—I told him, "No"—to asked if I was willing to insure it—I said, "Yes," and asked him the amount that it would require to insure it—he measured it up, and told me it would be 27s. 6d.—I wrote him out a cheque for the amount, and asked him when the policy would be sent—it was on the Saturday he measured
the glass, and I made arrangements for him to come on the Monday, and then I gave him the cheque—this is the cheque—he endorsed it in my presence—I asked when I should have a policy—he said, "We will send it on in a few days"—I waited for a month, and no policy came—I wrote to the address in Lime Street, but received no answer—I wrote again, and received no answer, and I then went to the office, some time in January, this year—the first time I went I found no one there, and could not get in—I went again a second time; but could not get in then.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. What time was it you went to the office? A. About 12 o'clock—there Was only one door to the office, and the chain was up—I was there on more than one occasion.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAM. Q. When George Webb called on you, did he say he was agent to the company? A. He said he was an agent.
HENRY DRURY . I live at 3, Mead's Court, Wardour Street—at the letter part of 1868, George Webb came to me, and asked whether I wanted to insure my plate glass window—he said he called from the company, 14A, Lime Street, and he showed me a policy, which he had prepared all ready for someone else—on the 5th January, 1869, he called again, and he gave me this receipt—he signed it in my presence—I paid him 2s. 6d. to insure the window, and 3d. for the duty—he signed the receipt on my counter as "George Wood"—I afterwards saw him at the Marlborough Street Police Court—he was amongst five or six persons, and I selected the prisoner instantly as being the man who signed the receipt as George Wood—I only knew him by the name of Wood—this is the receipt—(Read: "5th January, 1869. General Plate Glass Insurance Company, 14A, Lime Street. Received of Mr. Henry Drury, 2s. 9d. on deposit, on account of amount of premium and duty for insurance of front. Annual premium, 2s., 6d.; duty, 3d. Signed, George Wood."
ELIZABETH COOK . I live at 14A, Lime Street, and have charge of the rooms there—at the end of August, 1868, the prisoner Charles Webb took a room there at 26l. a year—I saw him there three or four times—not more than that—when he first took the office a young man came there for two or three months, and then an old man came—there was also another person, who I have heard is since dead—the old man came after him, and he was out a good deal—Frederick Webb, the man who was convicted, paid and the rent—there was only a quarter and a half a quarter's rent paid—after Frederick Webb was taken, the old man did not come, only to take the letters; and he went away again—sometimes he did not come for four or five days—after some time he did not come at all—we took forcible possession of the room—there was only a piece of drugged, a counter, a book, and an inkstand—I believe this is the book (produced)—there was also a stool, which I had lent them—a great many persons came there and complained of having their windows broken, and of not having been paid—I should think about 100 came, at different times, or more than that.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. You did not see George Webb there at all, did you? A. Never.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS Q. Do you remember a Mr. Webster being there? A. No—I think he was the person who was there before the old man came—I did not hear that he was dead for a long time after he had died—I don't know when it was that he did die—I know the office was not shut up for a time in consequence of his death—I can't say the date
upon which the last rent was paid—I had a letter from Mr. Webb, saying that it should be sent—I gave a receipt for the rent when it was paid.
SARAH MCDONALD . I have the care of the office at 27, Pudding Lane—there has never been a National General Casualty Insurance Company at that place, to, my knowledge—I never saw the prisoners in my life.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. Was there a Mr. Kitcheners there? A. Yes—he was on the middle floor—whether he let a part of that office to Charles Webb or not, I don't know.
JAMES POLLOCK . I live at 25, Moorgate Street, and am a tailor—in 1868 Charles Webb took a room there on the third floor—he took it for twelve months, at 20l. a year—I saw George Webb there frequently—I never went into the office while they occupied it—I saw other persons some there to attend the business—besides the prisoners there was a young man named Bennett—I took forcible possession of the office in August last—persons went up there and could not get in—I have received no rent.
SAMUEL JOHN BENNETT . In July, 1868, I was employed at the National General Casualty Insurance Company, at the room mentioned by the last witness—I was engaged by a Mr. Barratt, who was supposed to be the secretary of the company—he was in Whitecross Street Prison when he engaged me—I went there on a visit—bye was a more permanent occupier—I went to the place of business, and saw Charles Webb—the office was at 25, Moorgate Street, on the third floor—there was nearly everything there that was requisite for an office: three desks, two chairs, and several books, and an inkstand—this (produced) was not one of the books—I never saw any directors there—I saw Henry and Frederick Webb there—I never knew Charles Webb by any other name—I did not see any policies signed—I saw him fill up the body of the policies—I never saw them signed—they were taken away, and supposed to be signed by the; directors—I was there six or seven weeks—Barratt paid me from Whitecross Street—I went there to get the money sometimes, and sometimes he sent in to me—they used to come and book the amounts they had taken during the day—a regular business seemed to be done—I did not know a man named Lewis—I have heard since that Barrett's name is Lewis.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. Have you ever seen him at the office? A. Never—I never heard him called Lewis, only since—the books and papers were kept under look and key—I had the key—I Had received orders not to allow any policies to be issued without Barratt's consent—the office was very nicely furnished—quite good enough for use.
COURT. Q. What did you do? A. I was there and answered persons when they came—several persons came to have their breakages replaced—Charles Webb told me, if anyone came, to say they should be put in as soon as possible—I daresay I told twenty persons in the six or seven week—three or four of them came three or four times—I told Chorles Webb of it, and he said it was the surveyor's fault not having called, or else the glisters neglected his business.
JOHN MATTHEWS (Police Sergeant E 27). On 16th May, this year I got a warrant to take Charles Webb into custody—I was not able to find him—I gave instructions about him, and saw him, in the custody of Came, before the Magistrate—I went to 14A, Lime Street, and was present when it was opened—I found this book there—it was the only one—there was also a desk and a stool.
WILLIAM CANE (Policeman C 35), On 26th August, I was at the shop of Mr. Wenmoth, in plain clothes—I was waiting there for Charles Webb—he came in—I was in the back room—I saw Wenmoth lay down some money on the counter—Webb took it up and put it in his pocket—I asked him if his name was Webb, and he said, "Yes"—I said, "I hold a warrant for your apprehension"—he stood for about a minute or two before be made any answer, find then he said to Mr. Wenmoth, "I shall give you back your money"—I held up my hand for Mr. Wenmoth not to take the money back, and told the prisoner he would have to go to the station with me—he said he was a principal of the firm of the Plate Glass Insurance—I got another warrant after that—I found I had not got the right one—the warrant I held was for George—I afterwards got another warrant and took Charles into custody—George was taken on the 4th—I found him at the Marlborough Street police-station—I showed him the warrant, and told him he would be charged with fraud—he did not say anything to that—I placed him out in the yard at the back with several other men, and Mr. Drury picked him out.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. Was not the 8s. 6d. on the counter? A. No; Mr. Wenmoth put it on the counter, and the prisoner Charles Webb put it in his pocket—I took the receipt from Mr. Wenmouth I did not hear the prisoner say, "Well, you have got the proper receipt, I may as well take the money; for depend upon it if there was any fraud I should not have called upon you in a year"—I did not hear those words at all—I found a large quantity of receipts.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment. CHARLES WEBB— GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Monday October 25th, 1869.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
FRITZ THEURER . I keep the City of Vienna public-house, Oxford Street—on 16th September I served Bayard with a glass of beer—he gave me a half-crown—I told him it was bad—he said that he got it from the Cafe de v etoile—he spoke in French—he gave me other money—Parker then came in and ordered a glass of beer—he went out again, came back, drank the beer, and went away—each time he came in he saw me trying the half-crown with a hammer—I only saw Parker look at Bayard—I kept the half-crown and gave it to the police—Bayard went out—I followed him to Oxford Street, and saw him join Parker at the corner of Denmark Street—they talked together—I spoke to a constable, and they were taken.
JAMES REEVES (Policeman C 44). I was on duty in Oxford Street, and at the corner of Crown Street Theurer pointed out Roberts, who gives the name of Bayard—I followed him, and saw him join Parker at the end of Denmark Street—they were talking two or three minutes, and then walked on, talking for about sixty yards—I followed them and stopped them—I
asked them if they had been into a beer-shop in Oxford Street—they said, "No"—I said, "This gentlemen charges you with going in there and passing a bad half-crowns—Roberts said, "No"—Parker said, "I do not know anything of this man, he only asked me for a match"—I said, "You have been a long time giving him a match, I have followed you some distance"—took them to the station, and found on Bayard two bad shillings and two half-pence, and on Parker 5s. worth of postage stamps and a good shilling, 8 1/2 d. in bronze, and a pawn ticket—Parker said he lived somewhere in Shoreditch—he afterwards gave his right address, 11, Chapter Street, Drary Lane.
PARKER— NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD offered no evidence against SARAH ANN THORNE— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. CRAUFORD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK AUGUSTUS ELDRIDGE . I am bar-boy at the Old Swan, Upper Thames Street—on 22nd September, about 6.30, I served the male prisoner With a glass of cooper—he gave me a half-crown—I put 2s. 4 1/2 d. change on the counter, and he shook his arm over it, with his finger turned towards his coat, and then asked me to oblige him with two sixpences for a shilling—the silling he gave me was bad, and was not one of those I had given to him—I bent it, and gave it to my fellow servant—the male prisoner asked me to give it him back—I refused, and went out for a policeman—when I returned the prisoner was gone—I afterwards saw him brought back—he was charged at the station.
C. T. Chandler. Q. How can you swear it was not one of the shillings you gave me? A. Because I could see the other two shillings under your thumb—I saw the three shillings at one time.
JOHN ARTHUR LEONARD DILLOWAY . I am a servant at the Old Swan—I was in the bar when the male prisoner came in, and saw him shake his sleeve—Eldridge said, "This won't be for me," and took it out of his hand, and bent it four times—I sent him for a constable; and when he had gone the prisoner walked out, leaving half his cooper—he went up Swan Lane, and nearly at the top of it met the female prisoner; he put his hands to her breast, and she dropped what, I think, was a shilling, but which sounded bad or cracked—I said, "What do you do with that bad shilling?"—she stooped to pick it up, and I said, "What has that to do with you?"—she went down Swan Lane, towards the house, and I followed the man to the corner of Lawrence Poultney Lane, where he took a guard off his neck, and either threw it away or put it in his pocket—he went into All hallow's Pier, where I gave him in custody—I went to the Mansion House next day, to prefer the charge, and saw the female prisoner walk to the cells where the male prisoner was put—I pointed her out, and she was taken in custody and brought into the Court.
C. T. Chandler. Q. Did you see anything drop from my sleeve? A. No—
by the time I got up to you had the bad shilling on the counter—you said that you should go for a policeman—you tried to run away, and you attempted to strike me in Swan Lane.
ALFRED TILLER . I am errand boy, at 2, Swan Lane—on 22nd September about 6.30, I saw the prisoners in Swan Lane, and saw the man give something to the woman—it appeared to be a shilling—she dropped it, and picked it up—I followed the man to Allhallow's Pier, and a policeman took him back to the Old Swan.
C. T. Chandler. Q. Can you swear it was a shilling I passed? A. Yes, because I saw it drop; and by the sound of it, it was bad.
THOMAS BOWERS (City Policeman 620). On 22nd September I was on Allhallow's Pier, and Dilloway gave the male prisoner into my charge—I told him the charge—he said that it was false—I took him to the Swan, and Eldridge said that he had passed a bad shilling—he said that it was false, and he wished the gentleman would not lock him up, as he was in a good situation, and it would be very serious to him—I found on him a good shilling and a watch guard—he gave his address, 3, Ravensborne Street, Greenwich—I found that address, but found no one of the name there—the female prisoner was pointed out to me, next morning, at the Mansion House, and I told her I should charge her with being concerned, with her husband, in passing bad money—I believe he is her husband—I found on her a shilling and a halfpenny—she gave her address, 1, Clarendon Place, Kent Street, Borough, and the male prisoner, going to the station, gave the same address—I went there, and found that they lived there as man and wife.
The Prisoner handed in their marriage certificate.
C. T. Chandler's Defence. I am innocent. I paid with a good half-crown. It stands to reason, if I was going to pass a bad shilling, I should not shake my arm in front of his face, to let him see what I was doing.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and TURNER conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD TAYLOR (Policeman H 56). I took the prisoner, and received this shilling from Ackiss—he said it was given to him for carrying a parcel from Waterloo Bridge, and he did not know it was bad—he was taken before a Magistrate and discharged.
JOHN CHANDLER . I am a clerk at the booking-office of the Great Eastern Railway—on 11th September the prisoner asked for a ticket for Tottenham, which came to 4d.—he put down a half-crown—I told him it was bad—he took it up, and came back and put down another half-crown—I cannot say whether it is the same—I broke it, and said, "This is a bad one, and I think I have had it here before"—he was taken in custody, and I gave up the broken pieces.
JAMES BRETT (Policeman G. E. R. 35). On 11th September, I saw the prisoner loitering about with another boy—the prisoner went to the booking-office—I saw the half-crown, but he snatched it up before I could get near it—a few minutes afterwards he came up, when passengers were getting
tickets, and offered a half-crown—I said, "This is a had one, Mr. Chandler," and the prisoner ran away.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and TURNER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Defence.
CAROLINE LANE . I am servant to a confectioner, at 220, High Street, Borough—on a Saturday in October, about 9 o'clock, I served the prisoner with some barley sugar, which come to 3d.—he gave me a shilling—I said, "This is bad"—he said, "Bad, aye?"—he gave me good money, and put the bad shilling in his purse—I asked him if he knew where he took it—he said that he did not—I told him he ought to be very careful, there was a deal of bad money about—he said that it was the first piece he had had for seventeen years.
Cross-examined. Q. Were people in the neighbourhood complaining of taking bad money? A. Yes—he appeared sober—the coin was very soft.
WILLIAM LAWRENCE . I am pot-boy at the Black Bull, Whitechapel Road—on 2nd October I served the prisoner with a quartern of gin—he gave me a bad shilling—I bent it, gave it back to him—he put it in his pocket and said, "I did not mean to give you that one"—he paid me with good coin—I saw a woman pick up something, I do not know what, but she put it to her mouth, and said, "Perhaps this is a bad one," and made as if she threw it away—the shilling he tendered to me was bent a little, I believe, and I bent it more.
JOSEPH RANSOM . I keep the Black Bull, Whitechapel Road—on Saturday night, October 2nd, I saw the prisoner at my bar, drinking with a man and woman—when I first saw him he was taking up a piece of money—he then asked for a quartern of gin and a glass of ale—my wife served him—they come to 6 1/2 d.—he offered her a coin, which she bent with her teeth, said "This is a bed one," and passed it to me—he said he did not know it was bad, and pulled out another, saying, "Look at that, see if that is a bad one"—I bent that and told him it was bad—I said, "This is the third one you have tried," and asked his name and address—he gave me a florin, and I gave him the change—when the constable came he had his purse out, and I saw another bad shilling in it—I said, "There is another bad one"—it was bent, and I said, "That is the one he tendered to the boy," and gave him in charge—I saw a woman by him stoop and pick up a shilling—some people said, "Throw it outside, they have got quite sufficient—I saw a bad shilling found on him at the station.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he drunk? A. He was fresh.
WILLIAM MESSENGER (Policeman K 412). The prisoner was given into my custody on 2nd October, with these three shillings—going to the station a good shilling dropped from him, and a boy picked it up and gave it to me—I searched him at the station, and found 1s. 11d. in copper, a foreign coin, and a bad shilling—I told him it was bad—he made no answer—he had been drinking, but could walk without staggering.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
SMITH PLEADED GUILTY ; and also to a previous conviction— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and TURNER conducted the Protection; and MR. COLE defended Horse.
JAMES BRANNAN . I am agent to the Solicitor to the Treasury—on the night of 23rd September, in consequence of information, I went to Old Street Station, and saw the two prisoners, and several constables, one of whom, Boultbee, gave me four packets (produced), each containing ten bad sixpences, separately wrapped in paper—I said to Horse, "You will have to account for the possession of this, it is counterfeit coin"—he said, "I know nothing about it, there was nothing found on me"—Smith said, "Don't you though; I won't say any more about it here, but I will elsewhere"—Miller said in their presence, that he had been watching them a considerable time.
Gross-examined. Q. Are you in the habit of cross-examining prisoners? A. No; but I may have accused prisoners a dozen times—I was never cautioned by a Magistrate for doing so when I was police inspector.
MR. COLERIDGE. Q. Did you ever cross-examine a prisoner in your life? A. Never—I only let them know what case they have to meet.
WILLIAM MILLER (Policeman). On 21st September, I was with Boultbee, in the City Road, and saw the two prisoners and another man and woman—I watched them from 7 till 8.45; they went into the Green Gate, stopped there some time, and then came out and went over the City Bridge Road to a public-house, where they sat in the garden, and then came back to the Green Gate—I seized Smith, and Boultbee seized Horse—I had been into the houses and made inquiries—I said to West who was crossing the road, "I will hold this chap, and you search him"—Howse, who was close by, said "If he has got any counterfeit coin about him, I know nothing about it"—nothing had been said about counterfeit coin—I saw West take off Smith's cap, and take four packages of money from it.
ROBERT BOULTBEE (Policeman). I was with Miller, and saw the prisoners with another man and woman—I watched them an hour and three quarters, and stopped them at the corner of Bath Street—I caught bold of Howse, and said, "I shall search you"—he said, "If you find any counterfeit coin on him," pointing to Smith, "I know nothing about it"—nothing had been said about counterfeit coin—he was very violent—West gave me the money, and I gave it to Brannan.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you find good money on Howse? A. Yes—if I suspect persons of having counterfeit coin, I search them in the street, at once—I go up to a man in the street, and put my hands into his pockets without telling him what I am going to charge him with—I cannot charge them with the possession of coin till I have searched them.
MR. COLERIDGE. Q. You did as you do in other cases? A. Yes—I have not been reprimanded for doing so.
WILLIAM WEST (Policeman). Between 8 and 9 o'clock, on Thursday evening, I was at the corner of Bath Street, and saw House, looking at Boultbee—I was asked to search Smith, and heard Howse say, "If he has got any counterfeit coin on him I do not know anything about it"—nothing had been said about counterfeit coin, in my hearing—Smith gave some coppers—I then took off his hat, and said, "Your hat seems rather
heavy, what is in it?"—he said, "I don't know"—I pulled the lining out and found these four packets of counterfeit, coin—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you go up to people in the street, and search them at any time? A. We have orders to search any persons who are supposed to be counterfeit coin dealers, there and then—I should search you if I suspected you, and did not know you.
HOWES— GUILTY .
He was further charged with having been before convicted of a like offence, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES JOHN STUBBS . On the night of 11th September, the prisoner came to my house, and I served him with a glass of ale—he gave me a half-crown—I tried to bend it, but could not, and put it in the till, being very busy—about a minute afterwards I went back to the till, saw that it was bad, and placed it at the back—there were no more like it—it had William the Fourth's head on it—about ten minutes afterwards the prisoner returned, and tendered another half-crown, which I bent, and told him that was the second half-crown he had tendered in ten minutes—he threw down a shilling, and said, "Don't put your hands on me; your master knows me very well—he was given in custody, with the two bad half-crowns.
Prisoner. Q. Were you very busy? A. Yes—the other waiters do not take money, to my knowledge—there was other money in the till.
FREDERICK PARKER (Policeman E 411). I was called to the Mogul Tavern, took the prisoner, and saw this bad half crown—next day I received this other half-crown from Stubbs—as soon as the prisoner got outside the bar, he struck me on the face, and kicked me on the shins, and, at the corner of Long Acre, he took something like money from his pocket, and threw it on the ground—it was too dark for me to see it, and there was a crowd—I searched him at the station, and found 4s. 6d. in silver, and 1s. 7 1/2 d. in copper, in different pockets; but there was nothing in his right-hand pocket, from which he threw something away—I found this half-crown (produced) in his cell, next morning.
Prisoner. You did not see or hear what I threw away? Witness. I heard it—I could not hear how it rung, because it was a wet night.
WILLIAM GILLINGHAM . I am messenger at Bow Street Police Station—on Sunday morning I swept out the cell, where the prisoner and another man had been, and found this half-crown, with a piece broken out of it (produced)—I had swept the cell out on Saturday.
Prisoner's Defence. If he thought the first half-crown was bad, why not lay it outside the till? The second one, of course, was bad; but I did not know it. The third I know nothing about.
GUILTY .— Two Years Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, October 26th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
899. JOSEPH WELLS (25) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing whilst employed in the Post Office, a post letter, the property of Her Majesty's Post-master General. The prisoner received an excellent character—Five Years' Penal Servitude.
901. ROBERT THOMPSON (58) , to feloniously breaking and entering the warehouse of Ivie McCutchan, and others, with intent to steal*— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
902. JOHN ROUSE (24), and JOHN SAUNDERS (26) , to stealing and receiving a quantity of onions and tomatoes, of Richard Martin Sharpe — Twelve Months' Imprisonment each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
903. RICHARD RISLEY was indicted for unlawfully attempting to take one Maria Ann Mason, a girl under the age of 16, out of the possession of her father. Third Count—for soliciting, &c. Four other Counts, for common assaults.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT PARRY, with MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MR. STRAIGHT, the Defence.
MARIA ANN MASON . I live with my father and mother, at North End, Fulham—I have a married sister, living in Mount Street, Grosvenor Square—on Tuesday, 17th August, I came to London—my mother knew of my coming—I came by omnibus—I was waiting at Piccadilly—I got to town about 11.30—I saw my sister by Piccadilly—she met me there—that is the sister that is not married—she is nineteen years old—after she had spoken to me, I was going home—I did not go to Mount Street that day—I was to go home by the 'bus, from Piccadilly—I saw the prisoner by Piccadilly—I was not standing still, I was walking on; he spoke to me and asked me to go with him—I said, "No"—he said, "Won't you come with me?"—I said, "No"—then he pulled my jacket—I don't know the name of the place where he did that—it was by Piccadilly—it was not far from the place where he first spoke to me I—I had just left my sister—he asked me to go with him at that time—I went round to Mrs. Checkley's—she lives at 27, Greek Street—I went then because I thought that man would follow me—when I was nor Stagg & Mantle's, the linen drapers, he again asked me to go with him, and he would buy me a new dress; he also showed me a ring on his finger, and said he would give it to me, if I would go with him—I said, "No, sir," and went on walking—I went through Ryder's Court, and, at a coffee-shop there, he pulled my jacket and asked me to go in there with him—I had not stopped walking—I got away from him, and went through another court—I don't know the name of it—lie pulled me towards a tobacconist's window, and asked me to go there while he spoke to me—he asked me then to go with him, and said, "You meet me to-night, at 8.30, and I will take you to the Alhambra"—I saw a person selling apples, when I got out of one of the courts, and he asked me if I liked apples—he went and bought two apples, and came and offered them to me, and said, "Will you have these apples?"—I said, "No, thank you, sir"—he said, "Have them"—I said "No, thank you, sir"—he said, "Have them; and if you don't want them, give them to someone else"—I crossed the road at Church Street; he was behind me, and he asked me to go down Church Street—I said, "No, sir"—that was not far from Mrs. Checkley's door—he did not follow me the further than the corner of Church Street—we had passed a confectioned shop as we came along, and he asked me to go in there with him, and 1 Mid, "No"—that was before we got to Stagg & Mantle's—when I got to Mrs. Checkley's I rang the bell—I saw my sister Nell first, and then
Mrs. Checkley—I made a statement to her—I saw Mr. Hales there; I went with him to Marlborough Street Police Court, that same afternoon—as I was going from Piccadilly to Mrs. Checkley's, the prisoner asked me where I was going, and I did not make him any answer—the word "home" was not mentioned—Mr. Risley asked me to go to his home; but he did not ask me where my home was—I had seen him before; I think it was a month before, out by Ryder's Court—he did not speak to me then; he was going that way and I was going this, and he came back and followed me down, I don't know how long, he followed me till I got to the omnibus; and when I was in the omnibus I saw him going by—that was the only time I had seen him before.
Gross-examined by MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Had you been often in London before? A. Yes—I have been living with my sister—I had not been often up from Fullham to London—I had been going from London to Fulham—my father and mother live in Star Lane, Fulham—I was living with my mother at this time—I had lived with my sister about A month—that was before this—it was not in August—I don't know when it was—it was a short time before—I was going home from my sister's the first time I saw Mr. Risley—my sister's name is Caroline Mason—she was then living at 31, Berwick Street—she was called Mrs. Roberts—I have sometimes heard her called Louey—I have not called her so—I don't know whether Mrs. Checkley has, I have not heard her—I did not know Mr. Roberts—I have seen him—I took my meals with him while I was staying there—I knew him as living with my sister there—I sometimes went to see my sister at 27, Greek Street—I did not live with her there—I don't know how long she lived there—I have been in there about four times—that was list year—Mr. Roberts was not living with her then—I don't know whether the knew him then; I did not—before I went to live with my sister I was in the habit of coming from Fulham to London, not by myself—I came up on 17th August to go to my sister's, to deliver a message, to tell her that my other sister in Mount Street, would not give her pledge ticket—I did not go to my sister's in Mount Street that morning—I had been on the Monday—I met my sister Caroline at Piccadilly—my mother gave me 4d. to come up, and my sister gave me 3d. to go back again—I was not long with my sister that morning—I was not going to Greek Street—I only went there because I met Mr. Risley—I knew Mrs. Checkley—I don't blow how long I had known her—not so long as a year or two—my mother did not know her—I know Mrs. Turnell by my sister living in her house—that was 27, Greek Street—I have told the truth about meeting my sister Caroline in Piccadilly on this morning—I did not say so before—I did not go before the Magistrate the day I saw Mr. Risley—I did some time after—I don't know the Magistrate's name—I was sworn to tell the truth—I told the Magistrate that on that Tuesday morning I had been to my married Bister, Mrs. Nutt, in Mount Street—her husband is coachman to a gentleman in that neighbourhood—I did not say that I left at dinner time, and that my married sister saw me to Leicester Square—my sister Caroline told me not to say nothing about her—she told me that since I was examined before the Magistrate—I was not told before that to say that I had been to see my married sister, and not my sister Caroline, not by anyone—I did say at Marlborough Street that I had been to my married sister—Mrs. Checkley told me to say so, and not to say anything about my sister Louey—my married sister and her husband complained to me that I had said
I had been to see her that morning when I had not, and said I should not have told that untruth—I told her that Mrs. Checkley had told me to say so—I told my sister that the gentleman did not hurt me in any way, that he gave me some apples, and that he was very kind in his speech to me—I did not say that he did not touch me, I am sure of that—nor that I was not afraid of him—Mr. Hales has been down to Fulham to see my mother—I think he has been more than once—I don't know how many times I have seen him there—my mother never refused to let me come up to give evidence when Mrs. Checkley said I must go to the Police Court—I said, "I won't go, I don't think mother will thank me for it"—no one asked me whether Mr. Risley pulled me or not before I gave evidence—Mr. Hales did not ask me that, or say anything about it—I am sure of that—no one said I must tell the Magistrate that I had been pulled by the jacket—I did not tell Mrs. Nutt that Mr. Hales had told me to say I was pulled, or that Mrs. Checkley had—I never went to 27, Greek Street after my water left there, only when she was there—no one ever gave me a dress—my sister Caroline gave me one—it was not a black silk—I had not a black silk dress on when I was examined at Marlborough Street—I had a cotton dress on—I don't recollect Mr. Hales being present when I was going to be examined—I did not say to the Magistrate,"I can't speak while that man is here"—nor did the Magistrate tell him to step into his room—I am quite sure of that—I did not know it was wrong and an untruth when I said I had been to my married sister's that morning.
MR. BESLEY. Q. I understand you had been to your married sister's on the Monday? A. Yes—I went after the pawn ticket—I don't know whether I she knew I was going to meet my other sister the next day—I don't know who calls my sister Louey, I always call her Caroline—I never heard her called Louey—I think Mrs. Checkley always called her Louey—it was on a Monday that Mrs. Nutt asked me how I came to say I had been there on the Tuesday—I don't know what Monday it was—my sister Sarah was present, and Mr. Nutt's sister—no one else, only the two little children—it was since I was here last Session, quite lately—she said she had not seen it in the papers—she did not tell me how she came to know it—I have never seen that gentleman (Mr. Poncione, the prisoners' solicitor) at my sister's—it was the day we were going to Marlborough Street that Mrs. Checkley told me not to say anything about my sister Louey, not the day I met Mr. Risley, the day I was examined—it was the day Mr. Risley spoke to me that I said mother would not thank me for going.
HENRY HALES . I live at 4, Charlotte Terrace, Mostyn Road, Brixton—I was recently employed on the Morning Star newspaper—on Tuesday, 17th August, I was at the West End of the town—I noticed the little girl, Maris Mason, coming across, by Regent Street, into Coventry Street, by the London Pavilion—my attention was attracted to her by the defendant closely pursuing her—she was walking quickly—he was eight or nine yards behind her—I saw her hurry rapidly across Windmill Street, and go along from Coventry Street towards Stagg & Mantle's—he overtook her very shortly, and said something to her; she shook her head—he followed closely behind her till they got opposite Stagg & Mantle's window, and there be took hold of her and pulled her up to the window by her cape—he held her with his right hand, and with his left pointed to some dresses in the window—I saw her again shake her head, and endeavour to get away from him. but he still held her, and then showed her a ring on his finger, and she again
shook her head—she then apparently got away from him—ha loosed her cape, and she went on in a straight line—he followed her again, and overtook her; they turned up Ryder's Court, and I saw him lay hold of her again, and endeavour to pull her towards a coffee-shop door—she went on up Ryder's Court, he still following—he laid hold of her cape a time or two, and in Hayes Court, I think it was, he again laid hold of her, opposite a tobacconist's window, and took her up to the window, and there held her for some considerable time—he held her for a minute or two—he also bought some apples at a stall in one of the courts, and offered them to her—she shook her head, and refused them two or three times, at last he pushed them almost into her hands—I think she took them at last—he laid of her again, near to another coffee shop, at the corner of Frith Street—the went on again and got into Greek Street, and then ran across the street, and went into a side doorway of a house there—the defendant stood for a second or two, watching whether she went in, and when he saw that she had gone inside the doorway, he turned back down the street—I then went over and got to the doorway just as the door was opened, and the little girl went in—she was in a very agitated state—I had noticed that before she got to the house—I should say that she pulled herself forcibly away from the defendant on two occasions at least—in fact I saw her shake herself, shake him off and pull herself right away from his holding of the cape—I saw Mrs. Turnell at the house—from the complaint the girl made, I asked the people at the house to take charge of her, and I would go and endeavour to get the man's name—I had spoken to two policemen go the road before this, and directed their attention to what I was observing; and after I had left the house, I met one of those policemen again, and spoke to him—I caught sight of the prisoner again in a minute or two, going down Castle Street, I think—he was loitering about, walking slowly down—I kept behind him—I saw him speak to two young ladies, and then to a little child of about seven years of age, who was looking into a photographic and picture shop, in Castle Street—I saw him speak to that child about three times—the third time he stooped down and whispered something in her ear, and then she apparently looked frightened—he laid hold of her by the cape, in the same way, and she ran away up the street, and I lost sight of her—he was loitering about two or three minutes near the same spot and the next thing I saw was some water go over him—he got into a rage and said it was a great shame that a respectable man like him could not walk the public streets without being insulted in that manner, and he would have the names of those people, and summon them for throwing water over him—he said he would go and look for a policeman—a few minutes after that I saw the constable C 201 coming up Castle Street, and I hurried towards him and told him as briefly as I could what had taken place, and asked him to get the defendant's name—he came up the street, and the defendant met him and spoke first to him, and said that someone had thrown water over him, and he wished to get their names—the constable said, "What have they thrown the water over you for?"—he said he did not know—the constable said, "Well, this gentleman appears to know, for be has some charge to make against you, and he wishes me to demand your name and address"—he said, "Well, if he has a right to demand my name, I have a right to demand his and his address"—I said, "I will give it you with great pleasure," and I did so—he then said, "What do you want to know my name and address for I"—I said, "I wish it; I have a charge
to make against you. I intend to apply for a summons against you"—he wanted to know what for—I said, "In consequence of what your conduct to little girls has been in the street for upwards of two hours"—he said, "Well, what for?"—I said, "If you wish me to tell you, I must tell you before the crowd, but I don't think it would be quite so well for you"—he then laid hold of me, and asked me if I would talk the matter over with him, and asked if I would go along with him—I said I would hold no conversation with him except in the presence of the constable—he refused for some minutes to give his name—I said if he did not I should follow him, and do all I could to get it—he then said, "Well, my name is Ricardo"—I said, "Ricardo of where?" and asked for his Christian name—he said, "Oh, Ricardo, that is enough"—I said, "Of where?"—he said, "Of the Strand"—I said, "What number in the Strand?"—he said, "Oh, that will find me, Ricardo, of the Strand"—I said, "That is very indefinite; that will not do for me; you must give me your full name and address"—he then said, "Ricardo, Surrey Street"—I said, "Surrey Street, Strand"—he said, "Yes"—then I said, "What number?"—he said, "45"—I said, "To the best of my recollection, nearly all the houses in Surrey Street are hotels or private boarding houses; is it a private boarding house where you are staying?"—he said, "Yes"—I then said, "Well, that will not do for me; I must have your Christian name and your private address"—he refused to give me anything else for some little time—I then asked him for his card—he said he had no card—I said, "Then show me an envelope or something from a pocket-book that will convince me"—he said he had no paper—the constable then tore a small bit of paper out of his book, and gave one piece to me and one to the defendant—I saw him attempt to write something, but he seemed to be shaking so much and to be so thoroughly unnerved that he was unable to write intelligibly—I could make out "Ris" but no other letters—I was present before Mr. Knox when the little girl was examined—I went down to Nottingham with the constable when the prisoner was apprehended—some few days elapsed before he could be found—he was brought to London, and taken before Mr. Knox the following day—the child was not present then, and there was a remand to the next day, when she was there—I did not hear her express any fear of me, or say she could not speak while I was in the Court—the Magistrate did not request me to leave—the defendant's solicitor did—there is no foundation for the suggestion that I endeavoured to induce the child to say she had been taken hold of—I have never influenced her in any way in the statement she made—she was quite a stranger to me, and the prisoner also—I never saw him before; at least, I have seen him before, no doubt.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. You went down to Fulham, did you not, to see the child's father and mother? A. Yes, once; and only once, not twice—I saw the child then—that was before proceedings were actually commenced—I went down to satisfy myself as to the character of the people—I did not say to the child, "Did he pull you?"—I have never endeavoured to influence her in any way whatever—I have never suggested any such question to her as, "Do you remember his pulling you," or "Did you try to get away from him T—I have never asked her such questions—I have of course conversed with all the witnesses, and heard what they had to say—I have not made any inquiries about 27, Greek Street—I have never heard that it was a brothel—the people there seemed very willing to come with me—I have not made any inquiry about the sister—I heard of
her at the inquiry before Mr. Knox, Mid I heard there were some little discrepancies in the girl's story, and that he misunderstood her, and she had been endeavouring to explain it—I wrote a letter on this subject to the paper—I think I sent a copy to every one of the morning papers—I do so generally, as a rule if I think it is anything important; I Write in manifold—I think I sent a copy of the letter to every one of the morning papers except the Morning Post—that was not sent in my character as a reporter—it was not for payment—I wrote as a private correspondent, and lest it should be omitted from one paper I sent a copy to each—I wrote it thinking never to hear anything more of the girl, or anybody connected with the case—it must have been getting on for 2 o'clock when I asked Mr. Rialey for his address—it was close about 12.35 when I first saw him—it was close upon 1 o'clock when I got to the house in Greek Street—I should think it was full an hour afterwards that I spoke to him in Castle Street—he had been loitering about a good bit—I had occupied myself during that time in going after him—I meant not to lose sight of him—his hand trembled very much—I should say he was not under the influence of liquor—he took hold of me by the sleeve when he spoke to me, in a friendly manner—I did not notice that he did so to the policeman—I have since ascertained his pursuit—I have seen him somewhere in the provinces—I have no doubt he has paid me money before now, for advertisements—I think I have seen him with a circus—I may be mistaken—he is an agent for the Japanese—I can't tell where I have seen him—I had an Impression that I had seen him once at Stratford—there was a circus there—I found him at Nottingham with the Japanese troupe—I did not go to the Surrey Theatre to make inquiry about him—he wrote on the paper the letters Ris, and I will be so far candid that I think there were about three other letters that would no doubt answer to "ley"—I did not see "Surrey Theatre"—he said, "Ricardo, Surrey Theatre—that was in the course of conversation—I don't know that he was engaged there at that time—he did not say to me that he was Professor Risley—I have some recollection of his saying something about Professor—I did not know then that he was Professor Risley—I first knew it when I saw him at the Nottingham Theatre—I have been a reporter for some time—I was then engaged on the Morning Star in two capacities, both in the advertising and reporting department, for two years—I first had the impression that I had seen the defendant before, after he was arrested at Nottingham—I went with the child to Mr. Knox, to apply for a summons, and he referred me to Meters. Shaen and Roscoe, in Bedford Row, and I took her there with Mrs. Checkley, and saw the managing-clerk—that was on the same Tuesday afternoon—I stated the case, and they corroborated it—evidence was not taken in a formal manner—I have given evidence before; three or four years ago some fellows knocked me down and robbed me, and I gave evidence against them, and they were convicted, and got eighteen months—I don't think I have ever given evidence before—I have never written letters to newspapers before about what I have observed in the streets—I went from Mrs. Checkley's to Mr. Knox, with the child and Mrs. Checkley—I did not, in fact, go with them, I went on and they followed, and then I went to Shaen and Roscoe's and told them to come on—we did not go together, they followed on after me—I did not converse with the child, either at Marlborough Street or at Shaen & Roscoe's, about her evidence, or ask whether she had been pulled.
MR. BESLEY. Q. What matter had you for writing the letter that has been spoken of? A. Simply on public grounds, because I thought it was such a thing that a man like that should follow a little girl in broad day-light—I never saw such pertinacity—we were only at Messrs. Shaen & Roscoe's office about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—just a few notes were made, in a memorandum book.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Did you speak to the girl about her evidence this morning? A. No, not a word—I swear that positively.
MR. BESLET. Q. At the time of the discussion in the station about the name, did the defendant say anything about money? A. He said if I would go and settle it with him, somewhere, money would be no object—I said I was not going to be bribed—I stated that before the Magistrate.
ELIZABETH CHECKLEY . I am the wife of William Checkley, a button stamper, and live at 27, Greek Street, Soho—we have the two top rooms—I only know the child, Maria Mason, by coming backwards and forwards to our house, at the time her sister was living there—I did not know her sister's name—I called her Madame Ernest—I think she lived on the second floor—she had a room of her own there—I never saw the child there since her sister left—that is more than twelve months—I remember her coming there on Tuesday, the 17th August—Mrs. Turnell went to the door first—I was rung for, and went down—there is a shop-door and a long passage before you get to the stairs, and a middle door—the bell is outside, in the street—when I came down I saw the child—she was very much agitated—I had to take her in my arms and hold her—it was more than twenty two minutes before I could get any composure in her—she made a complaint to me—shortly afterwards I saw Mr. Hales—he made a statement, and left—the child went with me that same afternoon to Marlborough Street, before Mr. Knox; and from there we went to Messrs. Shaen & Roscoe's office—the child made a statement—whether they wrote it down or not I don't know.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. How long have you lived at 27, Greek Street? A. Five years—I know the house well—Madame Ernest had no family—I know nothing of the child's family—I don't know whether there was a Mr. Ernest—a man who I believe was Mr. Ernest took the room—he used to be there—I don't know whether he lived with Madame Ernest—I was never in the room to see whether he lived then—I have seen them come in and out—I never worked or washed for her—I have been in the room, but was never there to see them together—I have not seen them come in together; I did not say just now that I did—I have seen him there, and I have seen her there; but I never saw them come in or go out together—I may have passed them on the stairs—I have not seen them together in the same bed—I can't say whether I have seen them in the room together, or no—they always kept their door pretty well closed—Mrs. Turnell is my landlady—my husband lives with me, and I have a family—I have since known that Madame Ernest's name was Caroline Mason—I did not know it before this affair—I don't know whether the child knew her as Madame Ernest—I did not know the child's name—I knew she was a sister of Madame Ernest; but I never heard her name—I have seen her with her sister—not often—very seldom—perhaps sometimes of a Sunday afternoon—I have heard her say that she lived at Fulham—I never heard Madame Ernest speak of her sister particularly—I don't know whether she is here—I never saw the mother till
this affair—I think the child knew Mr. Ernest—of course she did—I don't think she used to sleep there—I can't swear that she did or did not—I don't know that this is a bad house—it is not—I never knew it was a gay house—if I had known it, I should not have stopped there—it has always been well conducted while I have been there—I never saw anything wrong—I don't know that it is a brothel—I don't know the police of the neighbourhood—my husband and I went into the country, for a short time, in the summer, and when we came back we heard a rumour that a woman had brought a man to the house and robbed him of 10l.—the man told the policeman it was one of the three houses; but which it was he could not tell—our house is between the two—I did not know that Mr. and Mrs. Turnell were charged about it—I don't know Mr. Leach, the policeman, or Mr. Pope, or Mr. Pickles—the house if not an improper house, to my knowledge, and never has been—I have not seen Madame Ernest since she left the house—I don't know how long she lived there—I never did anything for her but once, when I made her a little red jacket, which she paid me for—I am a dress maker, and take in needlework—Mrs. Turnell does not pay me anything for waiting on the lodgers—I have not seen ladies come in with strange men—I am up at the top of the house, and don't overlook the other persons in the house—I never was at Madame Ernest's place at Berwick Street—I don't know what name the goes by now—I carry on no correspondence with her—I have never been there to see her—I do not know Mr. Roberta—I don't know that Madame Ernest goes by the name of Roberts now—I have never heard it—I have heard it mentioned in this case—I did not know it till this morning—I gave evidence at Marlborough Street—Mr. Roberts was not called into question there—I believe Madame Ernest was called Louey—I believe the little girl called her Louey—I never heard Mrs. Turnell call her so—I went with the child to Marlborough Street—she said she did not like to go without I went with her—Mr. Hales said he should like to take her—I did not tell her not to say she had been with her sister Louey that morning; but that she had been to Mrs. Nutt's—I do not know Mrs. Nutt—I believe she has a sister of that name; but I do not know her—I did not tell her to say that she had been with her married sister that morning, in Mount Street—all I said to her was, "When you are spoken to, you must tell the truth"—I have only known the child's name since this affair—she used to be called by a nickname—I never knew her by any other name than Cock Robin—that was what she was called—her sister called her so—I did not tell her to tell the Magistrate that she had not been with her sister Louey—if she has stated so it is false—I did not know her sister in Dean Street—I never knew her to be in the hospital—I did not know that she was a common prostitute while she lived at 27, Greek Street—she always acted like a modest woman in my presence, in the house, I never saw her out of it—I have never seen her with other men besides Ernest—I have not met her in the street with men, that I know of—I might have met them, and passed them, and not known them—the child did not wish not to go to Marlborough Street, and say "Mother will not thank you for taking me"—nothing of the kind—if she has said so it is an untruth—Mr. Hales was by all the time—I went with him and the child to Marlborough Street, and afterwards went with him and the child to Messrs. Shaen & Roscoe's—we went together, all three of us—we walked—I have not seen Mr. Hales since—he has not called at our house.
ELIZA MASON . I am the wife of Richard Mason, and lire at 6, Star Lane, North End, Fulham—the little girl, Maria, is my daughter—she will be 13 on 3rd December—she was living with me on 17th August—I knew of her going to town on the Monday—it was with my consent, and also on the Tuesday—the left home about 9.30 in the morning—I did not state any particular time for her to come back—she was going to her sister's, and I could not say how long she was going to stay—I never saw the defendant before I saw him at the Police Court—I would not have consented to my daughter going to any house with him—I did not know of her going to any house that day, only to her sister's.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Which sister did you send her to? A. She had occasion to go to both—I understood her she was going to them both—she was going about a pawn-ticket of a dress—she told me she was going to one sister to ask for it—it belonged to the other—I have a daughter called Louey; she has two names, Louey or Caroline, whichever she has a mind to go in—her name is Caroline Louisa—Maria's name is Maria Ann, and I have one named Mary Ann—I never visited my daughter Louey at 27, Greek Street, that I remember—I am not in the habit of going much to my children, I am always at work—when they go away from me, of course I cannot follow them about to know what they an doing—she has not visited me very much—she has more lately—I used to see her sometimes when she came to Fulham—she was about sixteen when she left home—she had been in situations before that—she has not returned home since she was sixteen—I knew nothing about her mode of life at Greek Street, nor did my husband—when they go away from home they say they are going to get married, and of course I believe them—I believe she went in the name of Ernest, in Greek Street—I never called her anything but her own name, Louisa—I know nothing of a Mr. Roberts—since this occurrence Maria has been up to stay with her sister, only for a few hours sometimes—she came home at night—she did stay with her for ten days when she was ill, since she was at Marlborough Street—I did not know that my daughter went by the name of Roberts in Berwick Street—believed she was married—I saw some man that she was living with—I don't know what his name was—I never saw much of Ernest—I did not know that my daughter was living with different men—I have suspected it since this, but not before—Maria never told me that her sister's name was Roberts—she never told me anything about a Mr. Roberts—she said she had seen some man, but she did not say his name—I can't say whether it was her husband or not—I never had any conversation with the gentleman at all—she has not been to her sister, in Berwick Street oftener than she has been to Mrs. Nutt—she has been to Berwick Street with my knowledge—I did not caution her about going there—she has been in the habit of going to town—I always gave her money to go by omnibus—I suspected she would meet her sister at Regent Circus upon this day—she said she was going to see her, and she thought she would meet her there—Mr. Ernest never visited me, nor Mr. Roberts—Mr. and Mrs. Nutt have, but only once since they have been in town—I have seen Ernest since this occurrence, in the street, and I have seen Roberts since this occurrence—they are two different persons—I had seen Ernest before this occurrence, but not to know him—I met him in the street, he was pointed out to me by someone—I think it was Mrs. Checkley—she said, "That is that Ernest"—he was not living with my daughter then—I never saw them together—I never made
inquiry of my daughter how she got her living—I never law Mrs. Checkley before I saw her at Marlborough Street—it was since then that she pointed Ernest out to me—my daughter Maria goes to school sometimes, and sometimes I keep her at home to help me at Mr. Legman's, at the Elm beershop—that is where I work for as charwoman—the mistress gives her something sometimes, because she nurses the daughter's baby—she has not had any regular employment—she is too young—sometimes she hat not been up to town for two months—I sent her to her sister's—she knew her way better than I did—Mrs. Nutt has taken her about London, and she knew bar way.
MR. BESLEY. Q. How many children have you? A. Seven—I have two younger than Maria—Caroline is about nineteen—up to the 17th August I believed her to be a married woman—I know nothing about Ernest, he was pointed out to me—no one pointed Roberts out to me—I have seen him—I can't tell you where I first saw him—I did not see him before this matter occurred, that I remember—my husband is carter at Mr. Johnson's, getting weekly wages of 1l., a week.
THOMAS ROSKELLY (Policeman C 68). Mr. Hales called my attention to the prisoner and the little girl, in Newport Market—I first saw the prisoner at the corner of Hayes Court; he was walking on—the child had just turned the corner, going up the court, and he was going in the same direction.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you saw nothing that was at all improper? A. No—when I got to the top of Hayes Court he was on the left-hand side of Greek Street and the girl on the other, but much ahead of him—Hayes Court is rather narrow, and filled up with furniture, placed outside the shops—I was in uniform—I stopped at the top of Hayes Court, talking to a tradesman I knew there, and I called his attention to the girl—I thought Mr. Hales was rather excited; he and I stood there and saw Mr. Risley stop at the corner of Church Street, and the girl go into the house just opposite Church Street—I did not see her ring the bell—directly afterwards Mr. Risley came down and went through Hayes Court and Mr. Hales shortly afterwards came down again—I saw Mr. Risley for about three minutes—during that time I observed nothing wrong.
IHAAC JACOBS (Policeman C 201). On 17th August I was on duty in Castle Street, about 1.30—Mr. Hales spoke to me—shortly after that the prisoner came and spoke to me—he afterwards asked Mr. Hales to go and speak to him privately, but he refused to do so unless I was with him—when he was asked for his name he asked me for a piece of paper to put his name down, but I could not see what it was—I asked what his name was and he said Ricardo, and mentioned 41, Surrey Street, I think—Mr. Hales said he should let him bear of it—he asked Mr. Hales three or four times to write to him—Mr. Hales asked him to give him his name and address—he said he had not got a card—I gave him a leaf out of my pocket-book, and my pencil, and he wrote only two R's, what the other letters were I don't know—Mr. Hales then asked him for his proper address and where he was doing his duty, or whatever his occupation might be, and he said it was at the Surrey Theatre—I asked him if he could tell me his name and address and he said it was Mr. Ricardo, Surrey Theatre—I took it and gave it to Mr. Hales, and he then left: that was all—he said that money was no object to him.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you go to the Surrey Theatre? A. No—nothing was said about his being a professor—I can't say whether he took hold of
my sleeve when he spoke to me, he stood close to me—he might possibly have got hold of my sleeve, I did not notice.
GEORGE CLARKE . I am inspector of the detective department, Scotland Yard—I received a warrant for the prisoner's apprehension—I went to Nottingham with Mr. Hales, and took the prisoner into custody there, on 31st August—I read the warrant to him—he said, "If I did touch the child I had no bad intention; I am fond of children, and I might have spoken to her in a fondling manner"—previous to having the warrant, I had been to the Surrey Theatre, to seek for a Mr. Ricardo—I got no intelligence of Ricardo there—I have been to Surrey Street, Strand, there is no No. 41, nothing like so high a number.
Cross-examined. Q. When you asked for Mr. Ricardo, at the Surrey Theatre, were you not told it was Professor Risley? A. I learnt that—I was not told so, but I imagined from what I heard there that it was Mr. Risley—I think I had previously heard the name of Risley, and I learnt his address at the Surrey Theatre—they might have said it was Mr. Risley I wanted—when I found him at Nottingham he was with his troupe at the theatre—I know that the Japanese troupe had been at the Surrey Theatre—I did not know him before.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY submitted that there was no evidence of any attempt to take the child out of the possession of her parents; all the cases founded upon this section (58th sec. of 24 & 25 Vic., c. 100) pointed to a taking away of the girl from the parents' house, or from their custody and control, and not to a mere casual encounter in the street. See "Reg v. Hibberd," Law Reports, 1869, Sessions Cases, page 56, of Parts 1 and 2; also "Reg v. Green and Bates" 3rd foster and Finlaison, p. 274.) As to the Count charging a common assault, that involved a question of fact, which of course the Jury would have to decide.
MR. BESLEY called the attention of the Court to the cases of " Reg v. Bailey," and "Reg v. Olifier," Sessions Paper, vol. lxiv., p. 181, and contended that there were circumstances in the case (such as the age of the child) from which the Jury might have good reason to suppose that he knew he was interfering with a child intended to be the subject of protection under the statute.
The COMMONSERJEANT considered there was abundant evidence to lead the Jury to believe (if they gave credit to the evidence) that the defendant must have thought the girl was in the possession of her parents, but as the decisions appeared conflicting he should reserve the question if it became necessary.
Evidence for the Defence.
MARY ANN NUTT . I am the wife of Thomas Nutt, and live at 9, Mount Row, Mount Street, Grosvenor Square—Maria Ann Mason is my sister—on Monday, 16th August, she was at my house at 12.45—she was in the habit of coming from Fulham to my house from time to time—she generally came from West Brompton to Baker Street by the Underground Railway—she did not come to me on the Tuesday, the 17th—I have a sister living in Berwick Street—I was always given to understand that she was living there with Mr. Roberts—I knew her in Dean Street, and in Greek Street—she was living in Greek Street with a young man named Ernest—I saw my sister Maria on the 12th of this month, and I asked her why she stated that I took her to Leicester Square, as I did not—she said she would not
have said so only Mrs. Checkley told her to say so—she told me that Mr. Risley slightly took hold of her jacket-sleeve, but he did not hurt her—that he gave her two apples, and Mrs. Checkley had them and gave half to her daughter, and half to her daughter's two children—she said that she did not think Mr. Risley meant any harm towards her—my sister Sarah and her husband were present at this conversation—she said Mrs. Checkley said she must go to the Police Court, and say that her sister, Mrs. Nutt, had taken her to Leicester Square, but she must not say her sister Caroline had taken her there—she did not say anything about being afraid of him.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. Where did you first hear that your little sister had been to Mr. Knox? A. One of my sisters came to me one Saturday, I could not say the day of the month, it was in August, and she told me about it—I think that was about a fortnight afterwards; after Mr. Risley was in custody—I had had no communication with my sister before that, I did not see her till the 12th of this month—I heard that she had been examined at the Police Court, and I borrowed a newspaper to se if it was true, and I saw it in the newspaper; that was the first I saw of it—I had not seen any letter in the newspaper—I had not seen anything of my mother—I have only been confined three weeks—I had no conversation with my little sister before the last Session—I did not know that an application was to be made to postpone the trial, in order to get me to attend; I was here in the other Court, last Session—I know there was a medical certificate—I was subpoenaed to come here last Session—I had had no conversation with my sister at that time, and had not told Mr. Poncione anything—up to the 12th of this month, I had had no conversation with my sister—I had no idea why I was here last Session, or that the trial was to be postponed on account of my confinement—I Was afraid of my confinement coming on—I have seen my sister Caroline outside to-day, I believe she has had a subpoena for Mr. Risley, the same as me—we are not the best of friends—my little sister had been to me on the Monday, about a pledge ticket—I knew she was to meet my other sister on the Tuesday, to say that I would not send the pledge ticket—I have not been talking with Caroline about the matter—I did when she came to me on the Saturday, that was when I first heard of my little sister being followed by Mr. Risley—before I was subpoenaed to come here in September, I had not seen any legal gentlemen about the matter; I did not know why they wanted me—I suppose it is three years ago since I heard of Mr. Ernest—I knew of my sister living with him—I never had any proof that they were married—I can't say that she lived with him as his wife—it is not very long ago that I knew Roberts, I should think six or eight months—he does not live with my sister—she does not do anything; she was a prostitute, but she is not now.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Was your husband present on 12th October, when Maria came? A. Yes—he came in to his tea while she was there—she came with my other sister, and waited outside, and my sister fetched her in—last September I was about being confined—the doctor thought my attendance here might bring on a miscarriage—he told me so—it was with my consent the certificate was used—I came here then because I thought I should like it all over first—this letter (produced) is my husband's writing, I knew of his writing it to Mr. Poncione.
A number of witnesses deposed to the defendants good character, and some of them to a habit of taking hold of the button or sleeve while talking to them.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, October 26th, 1869.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
904. CHARLES THOMAS CHANDLER was again indicted (See page 535) for feloniously uttering counterfeit coin, to which he pleaded autrefois acquit the facts being the same as in the case tried yesterday. MR. CRAUFURD stated that the facts were the same, plus the fact of the prisoner's former conviction being charged in this indictment, and put in a replication of non tell record THE COURT considered that judgment must be given for the prisoner, who was then Discharged.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and TURNER conducted the Prosecution; and
MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
EMMA REBBECK . My father keeps the Prince of Wales, St. George's Road, Primrose Hill—on 9th October, about 12.30, I served King with a glass of ale—he gave me a bad sixpence—I told him it was bad, and he pulled out a florin, a shilling, and a penny, and said, "These are not bad"—he said that he did not know the sixpence was bad—he took it of a 'bus conductor the night before—my mother gave it to the constable.
WILLIAM FULLER (Policeman S 330). I took King, and saw the sixpence (produced)—I found on him at the station a florin, a shilling, and a penny—he said that he took the sixpence of an omnibus conductor the night before—I took him before a Magistrate—he was remanded till the 14th, and then discharged.
Cross-examined. Q. Was all the money you found on him good? A. Yes—he went gently to the station—I searched to find out something about him; but he gave me a false address.
GEORGE COLLINS . I keep the Stag, Fulham Road—on Friday, 15th October, I saw Johnstone served with a half-pint of beer—he gave the fairmaid a bad sixpence, which she handed to me, and I gave him in custody, with the sixpence.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen him before? A. No—he said that he got the sixpence from an omnibus conductor.
SARAH HAYTER . I am barmaid at the Stag—I served Johnstone with a half-pint of beer, on 14th October—two constables were in the house—he gave me a bad sixpence—I asked him where he got it—he said that he took it of an omnibus conductor the night before—I gave it to Mr. Collins—the prisoner was searched, and allowed to go, and Watts went out.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you sure it was Watts who went out? A. It was Clough who went out; he was out five or ten minutes.
EDWARD CLOUGH (Detective Officer). On 14th October I was at the Stag, with Watts, in plain clothes—I heard Johnstone call for some beer—he tendered sixpence, and the barmaid told him it was bad—he said that he got it from an omnibus conductor the night previous—I went to the door with Watts, and saw King standing about twenty yards off, looking towards the public-house—when he saw me he turned round, and went round the enclosure, by the railings—I crossed the road after him—he was then about fifteen yards from the spot when I first saw him, and was in a stooping position, with a small bit of paper in his hand—I told him I was a constable, and I suspected he was concerned with the man who passed a bad sixpence
in the public-house—he said, "You have made a mistake; but I will go with you"—he said that he never saw Johnstone before—he pulled some coppers out of his pocket—I afterwards went to the comer where I saw him standing, but could not find anything, and returned—both prisoners were allowed to go—I saw Watts pull up a small bag, inside this railings, where King had stooped—we examined it; it contained ten six-pences, wrapped in paper, with paper between each—about an hour and A half afterwards I saw the prisoners together, at Albert Gate, going towards Hyde Park Corner, and took them in custody—King said, "I told you before, I did not know him; he overtook me on the road, and we were going home together"—I found on King 1s. 9d. in coppers.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there any difficulty in seeing the bag? A. Any one passing would not have noticed it—I had been to the corner of Pelham Crescent, but found nothing.
MR. CRAUFURD. Q. You only searched where you saw King standing, not there you saw him stooping? A. No; I afterwards went to where he was stooping, and found the bag.
WILLIAM WATTS (Detective Officer). I was at the Stag, in plain clothes, and saw the sixpence, but did not hear the conversation—when Clough went out, I went and stood outside the door—we were in a different compartment to Johnstone—I searched Johnstone, at his request, and tend a good shilling, and about 6d. in coppers—I saw two bright marks on the head line of the shilling, as if it had been recently punched; one was under the head—I returned it to Johnstone, and they were allowed to go—I went out with Clough, ten minutes afterwards, and found between the railings, this big, containing this piece of rag and two packets, one containing seven sixpences, and another three sixpences, folded between papers—I was with Clough when he saw the prisoner again, they were walking together—I took Johnstone, searched him at the station, and found 9 1/2 d. in coppers—I saw Clough search King, and take one shilling from his pocket, I said, "That is the shilling I took from Johnstone in the public-house"—King said in the public-house, that he never saw Johnstone before.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . These twelve sixpences are bad—the second one produced is from the same mould as four of the tea found—the one uttered on the 15th is from the same mould as four of those wrapped up.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment each.
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution.
DAVID MACKINTOSH . I am a baker, of 11, Birkbeck Road, Rise—some time at the end of August, I saw my daughter serve the prisoner with a half-quartern loaf, which came to 3 1/2 d., be put down a florin; my daughter took it, handed it to me, and I found it was bad, and told the prisoner if he wanted it back be must call next day—he said that it was a had job, it was all he had got—he never called for the florin—I gave it to the constable.
Prisoner. I was never in your shop in my life.
ALFRED ROGERS . I am barman at the Enterprise, Bleuheim Road—on 19th September I served the prisoner with a pint of beer, which came to 2d.—he gave me a bad shilling—he said he did not know it was bad, and brought out some half-pence from his pocket, and a bad florin with them—I picked it up, and he attempted to pick it up at the same time—I said,
"Halloa! here is one more of them"—he tried to get away, but I stopped him, and gave the coins to my master.
Prisoner. I never moved from the counter.
ROBERT DRURY . I am landlord of the Enterprise—on 19th September I found the prisoner detained by my barman, who gave me a florin and a shilling—the prisoner said, "I suppose you will look over it this time, governor, it is the first time I have been to your house; I came from Chatham to day, and had a few shillings given to me, and this is how it has turned out"—I gave the coins to the constable.
JOHN SALE (Policeman Y 63). I took the prisoner on 19th September, and received this shilling and florin from Mr. Drury—on the way to the station he said, "This is very hard, I walked all the way from Chatham, I had a shilling or two given me on the road, and it has turned out like this"—he afterwards said, "How do you think it will go with me, do you think the landlord will come down; there are two pieces, you know; I had no more idea that they were bad than I have that that road is bad"—he said at the station, "Coming out of Chatham I changed a sovereign"—I received this bad florin from Mr. Mackintosh—I found 3d. in coppers, on the prisoner.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. I did not know it was bad, or I should not have done it, especially the second time.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MOODY the Defence.
HELEN MARIS . I am barmaid at the Poulterer's Arms, Cheapside—on 8th October about 2 o'clock, the prisoner came in for a glass of ale and gave me a bad shilling—(I recognized him as having been there about three weeks before, when he passed a bad shilling for a glass of ale)—I called my mistress, handed her the shilling, and said, "This man gave me a bad shilling before"—I then said to the prisoner, "You were here before and gave me a bad shilling, and this is a bad shilling"—he said, "Why did not you come after me if I gave you a bad shilling before"—I broke the shilling and gave one piece to Mr. Edmund, and the other piece fell on the floor—I found that the first shilling was bad, about five minutes after the prisoner had gone, and put it at the back of the till, where there were three shilling"—my master went there shortly after, and said, "Here is a bad shilling"—he put it by itself at the back of the till, and it was afterwards handed to the constable.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen the prisoner before these two times? A. No—he remained at the bar while I went into the lobby to speak to my master—there are two tills, and two bowls for silver in each, but I have one side of the bar to myself—Mr. Evans had cleared my till about five minutes before—I was then very busy indeed—the till was not locked—any person who happens to be serving there can go to it—the shilling was put at the back of the till the policeman had it.
MR. EVANS. I am proprietor of the Poulterer's Arms—I found a bad shilling in one of the bowls, which I had recently cleared out, and left there shillings there on one side and three sixpences on the other, all good—I went to the bad again shortly afterwards and found four shillings, one of which was bad—I put it at the back of the till, but did not mark it—it remained there till the prisoner came again—no one but the barmaid and
myself had access to the till—on 8th October the barmaid showed me a portion of a bad shilling—I went into the bar and found the prisoner then—I said, "The barmaid tells me you have been here before" and showed him the piece of the bad shilling—I forget what he said—I gave him in charge, with the pieces of the shilling, and took the first shilling to the station.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there anything particular to call your attention to the time you cleared the till? A. No—it might have been 1.45, and it might have been 2.20—I frequently clear it two or three times in an hour, and always leave three shillings there for-change—there are two bars and two tills—no one serves that bar but Miss Maria and myself at that time of day—another barmaid serves on the other side—she might come round to the other till if she was pressed for chance, but not at that time of day.
HENRY BALL (City Policeman 666). On 8th October I was called and received a piece of a bad shilling from Miss Maris, who said that the defendant was there three weeks before and, gave her a bad shilling—I searched him at the station, and found two shilling, three sixpences, two fourpenny pieces and 7 1/2 d., all good—he gave his address, 23, West Street, Clapham—I could not find such a street.
Cross-examined. Q. Clapham is a tolerably large place, is it not? A. Yes—a good many names of streets have been changed lately—I went at night—I found on him a gold chain and locket, and a silver watch—I heard him ask for his change.
PLEADED GUILTY. Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. CRAUFUBD conducted the Protection.
MARY ANN BENTLEY . I keep the Fox Tavern—on 7th October the prisoners came in together—Morris called for a half-quartern of gin and doves, and gave me a shilling—they drank it between them, and I gave her change—I then saw that the shilling was bent, and when turned round to tell them so they were gone—I broke the shilling and threw it away—it was very soft—on 9th October they came again—I gave instructions to my barman as they entered—he served them with a half-quartern of gin and peppermint, and Morris paid 2 1/2 d. in coppers—they both drank of it, and when I went to the end of the bar Morris pushed the measure to me, and asked me to serve her again—she pushed a shilling towards me—I tried it—found it was bad, and gave them in charge, with the shilling.
GILES RENDALL . I am barman to Mrs. Bentley—on Saturday, 9th October, the prisoners came there—(I had seen a bad shilling the day before, but was not there when it was passed)—I served them with a half-quartern of gin and peppermint—Howes asked for it, and paid in coppers—I afterwards saw Mrs. Bentley serve them—Morris gave her a shilling, which she bent and gave to me—I sent for a constable—and told them they had also been there on Thursday—Howes said to Morris, "You must be a fool to try it on."
them with uttering a bad shilling on the Thursday previous—they denied being there—they were searched, and on Morris was found a half-crown, shillings, and four halfpence, good money—and on Howes a florin, a shilling, two sixpences, and a halfpenny, good.
Howes' Statement before the Magistrate. "Last Thursday, when this person says I was at his house, I was at work in the City; I did not leave till 8."
Morris' Defence. I can bring witnesses to prove that I was not there on Thursday, I was washing all day at home. Last Monday fortnight she said that Howes gave her the shilling, and now she says that I gave it to her."
Howes' Defence. What I called for I paid for with halfpence. I was at work on the Thursday, and was stopped two shillings for spoiling my work. I did not leave till 9 at night."
GUILTY †— Two Years' Imprisonment each.
MR. TURNER conducted the Prosecution.
ERNEST DELAUNAY . I am waiter at a confectioner's shop in the Commercial Road—on Friday, 8th October, I served the prisoner with a penny cake—he gave me a shilling—I gave him the change, and as soon as he had gone I found it was bad, and put it on one side—he came again next day for a penny cake, and gave me a shilling—I thought it was good, and said, "I shall keep this for the bad one you gave me last night"—he said, "I have no money for the cake"—I said, "You may have the cake"—he ran away, but was brought back and given in custody with the two shillings.
JOHN KLAIBER (Policeman K 312). On 9th October I was on duty, and heard a cry of, "Stop him!"—I stopped the prisoner and said, "What are you running for?"—he said, "Nothing," and threw something away over my shoulder—I turned round and saw a boy pick up this shilling (produced) which he handed to me—I took the prisoner back to the shop, and received another shilling—I searched him at the station and found a good sixpence on him.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. TURNER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MOODY the Defence.
THOMAS PICKLES (Policeman C 217). On 14th September I was in Glass-house Street, in plain clothes, and saw the prisoners with a man named Wright—they all went into Warwick Street—Mortlock and Wright went into the Angel and Crown, and Wilson passed over to the opposite side, where she could see the door—the men remained five or ten minutes, and then came out and went through Leicester Square to Regent Street—Wilson joined them there, and I saw Wright pass something into her hand—I followed them into Jermyn Street, where Mortlock went into the Two Brewers, and Wright and Wilson passed on to the corner of Eagle Place—they stood there about a minute together, and Wright came back to the Two Brewers, and met Mortlock coming out—Mortlock passed on to the Three Crowns, Wells Street, and went in—the other man came out of the
Two Brewers, and joined Wilson, and they went on together—they separated at the corner of a street, and the other man went to St. Alban's Place—Wright came out of the Two Brewers and joined wilson, and they went together to the corner of Carlton Street, where they separated—I saw Wright come out of the White Lion, and made a communication to the landlord, who gave me this bad sixpence—I followed Wright into Waterloo Place—he joined the prisoners, and they walked together to the corner of Pall Mall, where they met Policeman C R 7—I stopped them, and Wright asked, "What for?—I said, "For uttering"—he said, "Not me, I do not do such things"—I took them to the station, and took two shillings and three halfpence from Wilson's hand, and this basket containing the money, wrapped in tissue paper, with paper between each—I said, "I believe this is had"—the prisoner said nothing, but Wright said that he did not know he was in company with people who had got bad money—I found in Wilson's basket a good half-crown, three threepenny-pieces, and 3d. in copper, and on Wright a half-crown, a sixpence, and 5d. in coppers, and on Mortlock one sixpence.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not Mortlock say, "I never saw then people before? A. That was when he was charged—he might have said it before that—my deposition was read over to me, and I signed it—I watched them sometimes from the other side of the street, and sometimes I was behind them—I had seen Mortlock before.
MR. TURNER. Q. Where? A. In company with the same people.
CHARLES HENRY CLARK . I am landlord of the White Lion, St. Alban's Place—on 14th September a man came in, between 4 and 5 o'clock, and I served him with a half-pint of half-and-half, he gave me sixpence, and I gave him fivepence change, and placed the sixpence in the till, where there were seven or eight other coins—Pickles then came in—I went to the—I run out the money, and placed it on the counter, and on the top of it I found a bad coin—I went to the station and identified the prisoners.
MORTLOCK— NOT GUILTY .
Wilson was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence.
WILLIAM POPLE (Policeman K 283). I produce a certificate (Read. "Central Criminal Court, Ann Wilson convicted of uttering, August, 1967—Twelve Months' Imprisonment)—Wilson is the person—I had charge of her.
Wilson. It was not me. Witness. I am certain you are the woman.
GUILTY.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. TURNER conducted the Protection.
at Hammersmith—at the end of August or beginning of September the prisoner came to my office to give notice of her marriage—I believe this picture (produced) was hanging there when she came, but I cannot swear it.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. W. S. LEIGH conducted the Prosecution,
WILLIAM MAY . I am a labourer, of 18, Garlick Hill, which is let out in lodgings, and the street door if left open—my room is the first floor front—on 7th September I left home at 8.30, leaving everything safe and my door locked—I came back at 1.30, and missed a blanket, three sheets, might-dress, 2 1/2 d., and a purse—an old pair of shoes was left behind, which I took to the station—I saw the prisoner and several others as I left that morning.
Prisoner. You examined the boots for ten minutes, and said they was not yours, and the next time you looked at them you said you could swear to them. Witness. The first time I looked at them my eyes were full of flour, and I could not see them—I saw them better the second time, became I had been away from work two or three hours.
ROBERT SPARKES (City Policeman 661). I received information on 17th September, and on the 30th September I saw the prisoner at Guildhall justice-room—he was wearing these boots which the prosecutor identifier three keys were given to me, with one of which I opened the door of the first floor front room at 18, Gar lick Hill—I received a pair of boots from the prosecutor, which the prisoner is wearing now—the prisoner was not present when the boots found in his room were given up.
COURT. Q. I understood you were not satisfied with the second identification of the boots, and you ordered the parties to change them? A. Yet.
NOT GUILTY .
916. HENRY BREWER (40) , to burglariously breaking into the dwelling-home of Thomas Hedges, and stealing there from 52lbs. of lead, his property— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, October 27th,"1869.
before Mr. Justice Keating.
MR. TURNER conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN CHALMERS . I live at 44, Cornwall Street, St. George's—I have known the prisoner for some years, and lived with him—on 9th September last I left him, from his cruel treatment, and went to live with
my mother—on the following Sunday, the 12th, the prisoner came to my mother's house, about 9 o'clock in the morning—he asked my mother if she would allow me to go home and live with him again—she said not with her consent—he then asked me to go home with him—I said no, because he would never behave any kinder to me than he had done—he came, and stood alongside of me, he did not speak to me—he stood alongside of me some few minutes, and he drawed a pocket-knife out from his right coat pocket, and struck me in the collar bone; I was giving the baby the breast it the time, and my frock was not fastened up—I ran out and called my mother, and told her he had stuck me with a knife—the wound is quite well now—I feel a pain if I press on the bone.
Prisoner. What she says is false, I have been living with her three years, and she has had three children by me—I allowed her 15s. a week, and found her in what was necessary—her mother and sister erected her away from home, and left me in dirt and filth, and without food—the altered a little for about a month, and then they led her away again—I could not stand it any longer, and I got a drop of drink—I went to bar at her mother's, and asked her to come back and be comfortable again—she would not, and I said I would go and get a ship and go to sea—she spat in my face, and said, "Take that you—swine"—I drew out my knife, and said I would cut my throat, and she kept saying, "Do it, do it," daring me for three or four minutes—she caught hold of my wrist, like that, and cut herself—she then said, "Do it now, you—swine; I have you now, and you shall die," and she struck me in the chest, and here are the marks.
Witness. I did not strike him; after he had stabbed me he drew the knife across his own throat, but no blood came—I did not handle the knife or handle him at all—I did not spit in his face—there was only our two selves present; my mother was passing from the kitchen at the time—I bled, and the doctor dressed my wound that dressed his.
MR. TURNER. Q. When the prisoner struck you were you standing of sitting? A. Sitting on the chair by the side of the fire-place, with the baby on my knee, giving it the breast—he was solid and sober at the time; he had joined the pledge on the Friday night before.
HARRIET COLLIER . I am the wife of James Collier, of 44, Cornwall Street, and am sister to the prosecutrix—the prisoner came therein Sunday morning, 12th September, about 9 o'clock, just as we were sitting down to breakfast—I heard him ask my mother if she would allow my sister to go home, and he would behave better to her—mother said, never with her consent, in regard of his not giving her sufficient to eat—he asked my sister whether she was of the same opinion as my mother—she said yes, for she did not think he would ever behave any better—he said, "Try me once more"—I had his child in my arms, and put it down against the door, and he took it up and kissed it, and nursed it several moments—I called to my mother, and told her not to leave the two together, for he looked rather wild—I was going up the stairs, and I heard my sister say, "Oh!"—I came down, and mother said, "He has struck her with a knife"—my sister was then making her way to the front door, and he was coming towards her again, with the knife open in his hand, when I shut him in the kitchen, and kept him there—my sister was bleeding—I held the door and called to my husband to come down, but he would not, and I opened the kitchen door again, the prisoner drawed down hw neck handkerchief, and
out his neck across, and I went and fetched a policeman—I did not see my sister strike or stab the prisoner.
Prisoner. You were not in the place at all. Witness. I was, and never left the door till you were gone—it is not true that your home is broken up—your landlady holds the home now for 2s. 3d.—I am married—I have my marriage lines here (producing them.)
ELIZABETH CHALMERS . I am the prosecutrix's mother, and live at 44, Cornwall Street—I was present when the prisoner came there, on 12th September—he asked me if I would allow my daughter to go home again—I said, "No"—he said, "For why"—I said, "to be half starved, and kept naked"—he asked my daughter if she was of the same mind—she said yes, she would stop at home with me—as I was going backwards and forwards from the kitchen to the cupboard, I heard my daughter call out, "Oh, mother, he has got a knife—and as she ran to the door I pushed her out—she was bleeding—I did not see the knife.
RUDOLPH TATHAM . I am a surgeon, at 273, Cable Street—about 10 o'clock on the morning of 12th September I was called to 44, Cornwall Street, and saw both prosecutrix and prisoner—he had two wounds in the middle of his throat—one was superficial, injuring the skin only—the other was deeper and of longer extent, and was bleeding profusely, that was perhaps half an inch deep—I stopped the hemorrhage—I had him removed to the hospital—I did not notice any wound on his chest at that time—he did not complain of any—I subsequently examined his chest and found three marks—I could not give an opinion whether they were self inflicted or not—the prosecutrix had received a stab immediately over the collar bone—I should think the blow would have come strongly on the bone, because the covering of the bone was divided—this knife (produced) would came such a wound—when I first saw the knife it was lying open on the table—the plaintiff had possession of it—the prosecutrix's wound has healed favorably—it might have been serious—there is always danger where the covering of the bone is injured—I should not call it a dangerous wound—it was of very slight extent—it was in a part that is dangerous—if it had misted the collar bone it would have been a very serious matter—it is just possible it might have been caused in a struggle—I should infer, however, that it had been done with some force.
WILLIAM LYE (Policeman K 325). I was called to this house and found the prisoner bleeding from a wound in his throat—I found this knife there, it was open—I saw the prosecutrix—there was some blood running down her dress from her right breast—the prisoner said something about the mother would not forgive him—I can't say exactly what it was—there was no charge made at that time—I sent for a stretcher, and had him taken to the hospital—after I came back from the hospital the prosecutrix made the charge against him.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM MORRIS . I lived for a year and five months in the adjoining room to the prisoner and prosecutrix—he behaved to her like an upright, hard-working chap; and not cruelly—it was all her fault, because he had the fever, and was not able to work.
MRS. MORRIS. I lived in the same house with them for a year and five months—and always found him an honourable young man—she kept him and the children very dirty—she left him on 9th September, because be Lad the fever—it was all her fault.
The Prisoner, in his defence, repeated hit previous statement, and added that he was almost out of his senses at the time, from excitement and want of food.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, October 27th, 1869.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
918. WILLIAM BIRD (26) , Feloniously personating and falsely assuming the name of John Campbell, a soldier, who had served in the military service and become entitled to certain prize money, with intent to defraud the Duke of Argyle, Secretary of State for India; and CHARLES LAKE (34) , inciting and assisting the said William Bird in the felony.
MR. FORSYTH, Q.C., and MR. POLAND, conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE WALPOLE . I am a clerk in the India Office—I produce a royal warrant, dated 22nd September, 1866—it vests the Banda and Kirwee prize money in the Secretary of State for India in Council, for the time being—(produced and read)—the warrant describes the different shares—we have a price roll made up, which we use when paying the soldiers their share of the prize money—the prisoner Lake has been a soldier, and was entitled to one share of it—he was engaged in India, under Major-General Whitlock—he received his share, partly in December, and the remainder in February last—and he filled up the usual form—in the prise roll there is the name of John Campbell, a soldier, who was entitled to &c. 75, or one share of the money, in consequence of haring been engaged at Banda and Kirwee, under Major-General Whitlock—on the 24th July I received at the India Office a letter, signed, "T. Miller," and to the best of my belief it is in the handwriting of Luke—I have seen him sign his name—(litter read)—it asked for payment of Campbell's share, and was addressed from No. 6, Elisabeth Place, Grundy Street, Poplar—an answer was returned, the draft copy of which I produce (read)—it stated that the money could only be paid to Campbell personally, or by letter—on the 30th July a letter was received, dated the day previously, purporting to come from John Campbell, and I believe the signature to be in the handwriting of Lake (letter read)—I produce another letter dated 9th August, purporting, also, to come from Gampbell, which I likewise believe to be in the handwriting of the same prisoner (letter read)—the writer requested that a printed form might be sent to a Mrs. Collins, in Ellerthorpe Street, as the first one had been lest—on the 6th September another letter, enclosing a form, and signed John Campbell, was received—the questions in the form were filled up by the applicants—they showed that he had served in the 3rd Madras European regiment, that he enlisted in London, that he sailed from this country on board the Salamanes, that he was discharged at the time of the proclamation, and that he came home again in the Tasmanian—there was also sent a certificate of identity, signed by the Rev. T. W. Noel, the minister of Poplar—for certain reasons I sent a letter to the address given, directing John Campbell to apply personally for the money—on the 23rd September the prisoner Bird came to the office, and handed me the letter and form that had been sent—I asked him if he was John Campbell, and he said that he was—I then put several questions to him, to see if he could identify himself—I asked him where he was barn,
where be enlisted, in what ship he went out to India, when he was discharged, and in what ship he came home, all of which were correctly answered except the last one—he said that he came home in the Great Tasmanian and landed at Portsmouth—I had previously received information that John Campbell came home in the Conflict, and in consequence of this I communicated with the Assistant Military Secretary, and a police-constable was sent for—he was then asked where he got the letter from, and be replied from a man whom he had met in the park, who had told him to come into the office, present the form, and ask for the prize money, and he would get it—he also said that he was to sign a receipt for the money—the constable went in search of Lake, and he was brought into the office—Bird was then asked if he was the man who had given him the form, and he replied that he was—Lake was then interrogated as to why he had attempted to get the money which was not his own, when he said that he was starving and wanted it—Bird said he thought the man who gave him the letter was Campbell, and that having been authorized by him to receive the money, he could do so, he was aware he should have to sign a receipt, and he thought he might use Campbell's name as he had his authority—the letter signed "T. Miller" was shown to Bird, and when asked if it was his handwriting, he hesitated a little, and said he thought that it was—some pieces of paper taken by the policeman from Bird I believe to be in the handwriting of Lake—on one of those the words "John Campbell" are written three times, and on another is the regimental number, 999—since Lake has been in custody, a letter has been sent by him to the Military Secretary (produced and read), asserting that he had purchased Campbell's share of the prize-money for 30l.
Bird. Did I say to you distinctly that I was John Campbell? Witness. Yes, you did.
BENJAMIN KING (Policeman A 130). I was on duty at the India Office on the 21st September, and was called in to take Bird into custody—I asked him whether he had any claims upon the East India Company for prize-money, and he said "No"—I then inquired from whom he had the paper that he had sent in, and he said from a man who was outside in the park—in St. James's Park I apprehended Lake—I searched Bird, and found two pieces of paper in his possession, and upon Lake were discovered a great number of letters—I did not know Lake, but had seen him about an hour previously, when he asked me the way to the Pension-office, and I directed him to it—he was alone then, and had a large handkerchief round his head and face.
JOHN DISNEY . I am a messenger at the India Office—on Tuesday, the 21st September, I saw Lake there—I saw him come up the stops from the street, about 2.30 or 2.45—he appeared to be in a hurry, and asked me if a man named Campbell was about to receive prize-money—I told him then was a man inside—Mr. Walpole had previously asked me to look out Campbell's discharge—I asked Lake what claim he had upon Campbell, whether he was a lodging-house keeper, or whether Campbell owed him any money—he said he had only known Campbell for a few days—he then left the office in a hurried and excited manner—he had a comforter round his neck and face, which was enveloped twice round under his chin and over his head—he was alone at the time—Bird was in the office when I asked him if he had any claim upon Campbell—he said nothing particular—I saw him brought back by a constable—I heard him make a statement as to why he
had sent Bird in—Mr. Thom, the Assistant Secretary, came down and questioned them, and both men said they were starving.
ELLEN COLLINS . I live at 23, Ellerthorpe Street, Poplar—I have resided there twelve years—I know Mrs. Shepherd, who lived in Elisabeth Place in September last—some time back I received a letter purporting to come from her, and in consequence of that I received some letters addressed to John Campbell—I knew the prisoner Lake—he called upon me two or three times after Mrs. Shepherd wrote the letter, and asked me whether, if any letters came in the name of John Campbell, I would keep them till he called for them—he did not say where he lived, or why I was to take in the letters for him—letters came addressed, "On Her Majesty's Service," from the India Office, and I gave them to him when he called—he said that he was the person about whom Mrs. Shepherd had written—on one occasion he wrote the letter produced, and after that I received one from the India Office, which I gave him.
COURT. Q. Did you know Bird? A. No, I never saw him before I was at the Bow Street Police Court.
ANTHONY HOOD . I am a sergeant in the 108th regiment, stationed at Chatham—in the year 1856 I was in the service of the East India Company, in the 3rd Madras European regiment—in September of that year the regiment left England for India—we sailed in the Salamanca—a man named John Campbell was a private in the regiment, and sailed in the same ship with me—we served under Sir George Whitlock, and were present at the capture of the booty at Kirwee—in 1859 he claimed his discharge, and he and I came home again in the ship Conflict—we disembarked at Gravesend, and I have not seen him since—he was a man about 5ft. 6 1/2 in., and of sandy complexion—he was a Scotchman—I have received my share of the prize-money, 75l.—Campbell had a right to the same sum—I know Lake, who was in the same regiment, and was likewise present at the capture of Kirwee—he did not come home with us—the last place at which I saw him was Tinsoola, in India—I have no knowledge of Bird—I saw Campbell the last time in March, 1866, at Gravesend, where we parted.
The prisoner Lake's statement before the Magistrate was that in January last, having met John Campbell in Liverpool, he having recently come from America, he purchased his share of the prise money for 30l.; but paid 39l., altogether. Campbell was going to Australia, and gave him a receipt in the name of T. Miller, and he authorised him (the prisoner) to was his name, if he did not succeed in getting the money through the receipt.
Bird's Defence. Lake said that his name was John Campbell; and he told me that if I would go and sign a receipt, I should get the prize money that he was entitled to. I sat down on a seat in the park, and conversed with him. He handed me a letter of the 16th September, from the Military Secretary, and asked me if I would go in and receive it. He said that before his God there was nothing wrong in it. I thought I could go in, sign his name, and get the money, without doing anything wrong. I did go in, and hand in his letter, and ask for John Campbell's share of the prize money. I did not say that I was John Campbell. Mr. Walpole was not in the office then; another gentleman came in first. I did not answer Mr. G. Walpole, but the other gentleman. I did not, during the whole time I was in the office, say that I was John Campbell. If I have done wrong, it was unintentionally.
Lake's Defence. I am a total stranger in England, having been born and brought up in India. I came to this country, where I had a little prize money due to me for my service in India, having served through the late mutiny. By not obtaining employment, I was brought to a state of abject poverty, destitution, and starvation. I found all attempts to get to India of no avail. I applied repeatedly to the authorities of the India office, for a passage back, by working for it, but my request was declined, and I thought this was hard treatment; and seeing that all my friends were there, I felt a yearning desire to get back to them. In the meantime I took the necessary measures to lay my case before the Government; but my complaint was ignored and discharged, on the ground of improbability. If inquiries were made into my case, I am convinced that British law and government could not tolerate such proceedings. I was subjected to very serious injuries, when coming from India, by the neglect of the owners of the ship, and I received no satisfaction. In January last I purchased John Campbell's share of the price money for 39l., at Liverpool, and received a receipt in the name of T. Miller. I forwarded a letter to the India Office, and it was returned, with instructions to apply personally. Unfortunately for me John Campbell has left for Australia. I throw myself upon your lordship's clemency, and upon the mercy of the Court.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude each, the COURT stating that representations would be made to the proper quarter in favour of Bird, with a view to a mitigation of punishment.
WHITEHEAD PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZA SHEPHERD . On the 18th October I and other women were at work in a field on the Cold Harbour Farm, occupied by Mr. Newman—between I and 2 o'clock I saw the prisoner Holden come into the field, from a lane—we spoke to him, when he said, "Don't you women hurt yourselves"—we told him that we thought a day's work would do him good, to which he made no reply—he was close to the stacks of wheat—he went to take some potatoes from a basket, and we told him to put them down, and he did so, and passed on towards the ricks—about three minutes after we lost sight of him—I looked round, and saw a man running, without his hat—it was one of Mr. Newman's men, who was going to give an alarm—I saw that the first of the wheat ricks was in flames, and was blazing up—the wind was blowing the flames towards the other ricks—three wheat ricks were destroyed—Holden was brought back to the fire, in custody, when he said he would rather be in prison than not, walking about with nothing to eat—I never saw the other prisoner there at all.
GEORGE SHEPHERD . I was in a meadow, alongside some water, on Mr. Newman's farm, on the afternoon of the 8th October, and about 200 yards from the ricks—I saw the prisoner Holden run across the meadow, and make towards the water, in a direction away from the ricks—he passed on to the side of the water, and after running a little further he slipped in—I did not see him again till the policeman brought him back to the ricks—when the man was by the side of the water, I turned towards the ricks, and saw they were in a blaze—I did not see Whitehead at all that day.
FRANCIS KING . I was ploughing one of Mr. Newman's fields on the 8th October, about 130 yards from the ricks—I saw Holden ran about forty or fifty yards, then stop and look round—I then saw that the ricks were on fire—I did not we Holden go to the ricks—no one could run away from the ricks without my seeing him—I had a full view of the ricks when in flames—Holden was running away in the direction in which the last witness was—I never saw the prisoner Whitehead.
FRANCIS COPPIN (Policeman X 214). On the 8th October I saw the prisoner Holden at Southwell, about two miles from the ricks—I tad traced him there, from information I had received—it was about 2 o'clock when I apprehended him—his clothes were very wet, at if he had been in the water up to his neck—I told him there had been a man in the water, and asked him to go back with me to see if he knew anything about it—he said he did not know anything about the water—I took him back into Mr. Newman's field, and then told him that he had been in the water—he said he knew he had, somewhere—I then called the witnesses, to know if he was the same man they had seen run away from the ricks, and they said that he was, and that no other man had been in the field—the prisoner made no reply—I saw that his left eyebrow had been singed very recently—I told bun I should charge him with setting fire to one of the ricks, when he said, "I may as well be in prison as starving"—on searching him at the police-station, I found upon him six lucifer matches, a threepenny-piece, a knife, and a pipe.
MATTHEW NEWMAN . The three ricks destroyed were my property, and worth 450l.—Holden was apprehended by my directions—he was cold and wet when taken to the police-station—I heard him say that he might as well be in prison as starring.
CATHERINE HUMPHRIES . I was at work with Eliza Shepherd and others in the potatoes garden—on the day in question I saw the prisoner Holden come into it from the road—he was afterwards brought back by the constable—his clothes were wet—I was sure he was the same man.
HOLDEN— GUILTY — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BESLEY informed the, COURT that the prisoner WHITEHEAD called at the police-station on the 11th October and insisted that he was the guilty man. He could give no-account of himself, and it was believed that his intellect was affected. He was only liberated from the gaol at Wandsworth at 9.30 on the morning of the fire, and could not have waited the distance in the time.
The COURT ordered sentence on WHITEHEAD to be postponed till next Sessions.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRIFFITHS the Defence.
WILLIAM HARM (Policeman X 240). I was on duty about 4.30, near to Chilworth Street, Paddington, on the 18th September, when I was called into the Railway Tavern—the prisoner was leaning against a partition in front of the bar—the potman requested me to remove him—I asked him to go quietly, as they had refused to serve him with more drink—I told him the best thing would be for him to go home—he was drunk—he used foul language, and said he would not go out of the tavern for anybody—with a little force, and by the aid of the potman, I got him
outside—he then went a distance of about 6ft. from the front of the house and commenced shouting—I asked him again to go away quietly but he continued making a noise and caused a disturbance—I told him if he did not desist I should be obliged to take him into custody—he then turned round and made a rush at me with some instrument in his hand, and which he had withdrawn from his sleeve—he said that if I dared to touch him he would kill me, or anyone who went near him—he attempted to strike me, bat as his hand was coming down I caught hold of his wrist, and so avoided the blow—we both fell on the ground, when he tried to wrench the instrument into my ear—I still held him by the wrist, and by degrees and with great difficulty I got it from him—he then kicked me severely on the thigh, from the effects of which I am now suffering, and also struck me in the chest with his fists—we had four or five ups and downs in the road—he said he waft an Irishman, and a Fenian, and dared any Englishman to go near him or touch him—with assistance, but with great difficulty, I took the prisoner to the police-station—I am still under the surgeon's hands, and have not been on duty since—I am suffering inwardly—I spat blood about four hours and a half after it happened, and the next day as well—I had never spat blood before that.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been in the police force? A. Two years—he tried to strike me with the instrument when on the ground—after I caught hold of his wrist we both fell and struggled together—I threw him several times, and I fell heavily by the side of the kerb-stone—I took him out of the bar with very little force indeed—I pushed him out backwards—I cannot say whether I saw James Whiteman there—he was before the Magistrate—I did not see him, as far as I know, near to the tavern—I had enough to notice the prisoner—the prisoner had the instrument in his hand when in the public-house—we got behind him, when we found he would not go, and eased him out—I can't say whether the potman said before the Magistrate that we carried him out—he remained quiet for some time when outside—a great many people advised him to go home—he did not say "I am an Englishman, and shall go home when I like"—he talked about being a Fenian when he rushed at me with the instrument—he was halloaing, and I thought I was justified in taking him into custody—I told him as many as a half-dozen times to go home quietly—he did not say anything about being a Fenian when we were on the ground—he made a stab at my chest—I was on the top of him when we fell—I took the instrument from him whilst we were struggling on the ground—I thought I should be killed if I did not get it from him.
WILLIAM HILL . I am a farrier, living at 6, Eastbourne Mews—I was at the Railway Tavern on the afternoon of Saturday, the 18th September, and saw the prisoner outside, after he had been put out by the policeman—the latter tried to persuade him to go away quietly—the prisoner was shouting and swearing, and saying he was a Fenian, and would stab any—Englishman who came near him—I saw that he had a carpenter's plough-iron in his hand at the time—part of the iron was up his sleeve; then he held it like a dagger, and tried to stab the policeman with it, but the officer seized his hand and prevented him from doing so—the instrument was not more than four inches from the officer's chest when he seized his wrist—I did not see him assault any other person but the constable—the blow was given with violence.
Cross-examined. Q. He said he was a Fenian, and would stab any person
who came near him? A. Yes. I believe I said so before the, Magistrate—I have had no conversation with the policeman since that time—I saw a person named Whiteman at the tavern—I did not hear the prisoner say that he was an Englishman, and should go when be liked—the word "Englishman" was not mentioned at all—I think the constable threw the man down once—there was a great deal of scuffling—the policeman was uppermost twice—on one occasion he fell on the kerbstone.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner very drunk? A. Yes, when he came into our house he was, and we refused to give him anything to drink—hehad the instrument produced in his hand when in front of the bar—hewas singing and dancsing—the policeman and I had to use a great deal of violence to get him out of the house—there were several gentlemen in the private bar who felt very much annoyed at his conduct.
JAMES WHITIMAN . I live at 10, Gloucester Mews, Eastbourne Terrace—I was at the Railway Tavern on the Saturday afternoon in question—I saw the prisoner there—he did not attempt to stab anybody-my attention was not drawn to anything till I heard a struggle outside—I then saw the policeman and the prisoner on the ground together—the prisoner had an instrument in his hand, which the, constable took from him—he had the same instrument when in the bar—the constable took it from him as he knelt upon him—there was, no bad language that I heard.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he singing? A. He was, but not annoying anybody—it is not true that the policeman and the potman carried him out—the policeman carried him out alone—there was no violence used by the prisoner—the policeman caught hold of him and carried him out backwards—he had the instrument in his hand at the time, and could have used it freely whilst being carried out—he had every chance of doing so—I heard the policeman, when they were outside the house, persuade toe man to go home—the prisoner, in reply, said, "I am an Englishman, and will go when I like"—the policeman walked away from him about ten or twelve yards—the first I saw of the struggle outside was the policeman trying to wrench the instrument out of the man's hand, as he lay on the top of him—I saw them get up, when the policeman tripped the prisoner and fell on him again—I did not see the prisoner attempt to strike the policeman as they were on the ground—I was trying to unbuckle the policeman's cape, and must have seen it if such was the case.
Cross-examined. Q. Supposing that the instrument had pierced the policeman, in what part of his body would it have entered? A. About the region of the heart.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for assaulting the constable in the execution of his duty, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. HUNT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER the Defence.
picked up a boot lace—prisoner said, "Give me that lace"—I said, "What lace?"—then he hit me and knocked me down on the ground with his fists—I got up and said, "Is this your lace? if it is you shall not have it"—I ran to the back of the forge, and then he chucked the tongs at me, but they didn't strike me—next he came after me and knocked me down again, and, drawing his knife, said, "I will have it now"—then he tried to cut the lace, and said, "You b—, if you don't lie still I'll knife you"—I saw the knife in his hand—he cut part of the lace, and then stabbed me in the thigh with the knife, as I lay on the ground.
Cross-examined. Q. What did the prisoner first do? A. He came round to where I was at work—I did not throw a rivet at him first—I think I did chuck something at him, like a screw—when I ran round the forge he threw the tongs at me—it was not the tongs that hurt my leg—I can swear he had a knife, but cannot identify it—it was an ordinary bread-and-cheese knife—I ran away about ten or fifteen yards—he knocked me down when he caught me—we struggled on the ground, and I kicked him when he was trying to get the lace—I do not know to whom the lace belonged—I picked it up, and he said it was his—he hit me because I would not give it up to him.
JOHN VANCE . I am a surgeon, living at Nuttree House, Plaistow—on the morning of the 14th September I was called in to see the prosecutor—he had previously been brought to my house—I found him lying on a sofa, suffering from a stab in the thigh—there was a transverse wound towards the middle of the left thigh, about three and a half inches in length—I believe it was caused by a sharp instrument, and not by the tongs—in the middle it was half or three-quarters of an inch deep—there was a cut through the trowsers, which could not have been done by a screw or pincers—the knife produced would cause such a wound.
Cross-examined. Q. If the two were struggling for a lace, might such a wound as that be caused if one of them had an open knife in his hand at the time? A. Yes.
CHARLES PEARL (Policeman X 246). I apprehended the prisoner on the 13th of September, in Kent Street, Plaistow, on a charge of cutting and wounding a lad named John Hales—he said, "I know what you want me for; you want me for stabbing that boy"—I then took him to the police-station and charged him.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding; but the Jury believed that the wound was accidentally cawed in the struggle. — Prisoner was discharged on his own recognizances, to appear for judgment when called upon.
MR. HUNT conducted the Prosecution.
LABAN CROXON (Policeman D 157). On the night of Saturday, the 26th of September, about 12.30, I was in East Street, Manchester Square, when I heard cries of "Murder!" and "Police!" and in consequence went to the corner of York Court, in East Street—I then saw the prisoner and another man fighting, and several women trying to separate them—I requested them to go away, but they did not—another constable came up, and then they walked a distance of about thirty yards and commenced fighting again—I went to separate them, when the prisoner said he would stab me to the
b—heart if I came any further—I advanced, and then he struck at me towards the breast, with a knife, but did not hit me—I struck at him at the same time—I warded off the blow—the prisoner then ran up the court and I lost sight of him—thinking that he had not gone for, I went into No. 20, in search of him, and there I found him under a bed—there were several persons in the house—I asked him to come out, but he refused—then I pulled him out by the legs, and told him I should take him into custody—I charged him with being drunk and attempting to stab me in the execution of my duty—when he got to the door he resisted violently, but with assistance I took him to the police-station.
COURT. Q. Was he drunk or sober? A. Very drunk.
Prisoner. Q. When you came to me in East Road was I not going down the court when you said, "Now, Jack, get back?" A. No; the first time I saw you was when you were fighting, in East Street.
CHARLES HATCHER (Policeman D 168). I was on duty with the last witness, in East Street, when I saw him go to the prisoner and persuade him to be quiet—after a few minutes the prisoner went about thirty yards, and began fighting again, under a lamp-post—the prosecutor called to him again, and tried once more to persuade him to go away peaceably—then the prisoner said that if he came any further he would stab him to the b—heart—I saw him heave up his hand with a knife in it, and attempt to stab the officer—he struck at him towards his left breast—I saw the blade of the knife—the blow was aimed at the officer—the prisoner was drunk and disorderly.
COURT. Q. When did you see the knife? A. The second time, when the constable told him to go away—I saw him take it out of his pocket—the man with whom he was fighting went home—I cannot say whether he had the knife up his sleeve or not, when prisoner was fighting the other man—the prisoner did not go indoors from the time we first saw him fighting to the time when he attempted to stab the prosecutor.
Prisoner's Defence. I had a drop of beer—there was a couple of chaps and a young woman in the house; they got up a quarrel with her, and I would not have it—one of the young fellows went out and pulled her about—she then asked me to see her home—in the court I met two policemen, when one of them said, "Jack, get back, this is not your way"—I had my sleeves tucked up—I went back to the house and fell asleep in a chair—about half-an-hour afterwards two policemen came, and one said, "This is the fellow"—they pulled me out of the room into the passage, and said it was for another time they wanted me—when going down by Manchester Square I asked them what they were going to charge me with, and then they kicked me in the spine of the back—I never gave them a wrong word—they are mistaken as to the man.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, October 27th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN HARRIS . I live at 13, Branmore Grove, Lewisham, and am a greengrocer—about 12 o'clock, on 17th August, I was in Covent Garden Market, with a pony and cart, containing two baskets of apples, two baskets
of pears, and four empty sacks—I went into the market, leaving the pony and cart facing Southampton Street, and when I came back, in about five minutes, it was gone—the pony, cart, and contents were worth about 9l.—I saw the pony and cart the same evening, in Farringdon Street, in the care of the police—it was then empty.
RICHARD HEWRY PAYNE . I live at 24, Little St. Andrew Street—about 12 o'clock, on the afternoon of 17th August I was in Co vent Garden Market—I saw the prisoner there—he asked me if I wanted to earn a few half-pence—I said, "Yes"—he told me to go and take the nose-bag off that white pony, and take it round the turning, and he would meet me the other way—I did so, and he met me—he went with mo as far as Temple Bar—I led the pony—when we got there he said, "Stop here, while I go and get a barrow"—he got a barrow, and took the things out of the cart, and put them in the barrow, and went away—before he went away he said, "Go to Whitecross Street, and you will meet my brother there, and I will be there as well"—I went to Whitecross Street, and waited for some time; but he did not come—I then asked a policeman the way to the Strand, and he took me and the pony and cart to the station—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man.
Prisoner's Defence. I never saw the boy in my life.
He further PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted is September, 1868**— Seven Years' Penal, Servitude.
CHRISTIAN SAHN . I am a pork butcher—on the 20th September I was lodging at Mr. Winterbottom's public-house, at Jewry Street, Aldgate—between 10 and 11 that evening I was in Fenchurch Street—I had been drinking with two friends—I met the two prisoners; they took me down a little court, and said they wanted to talk to me—I had a gold watch in my waistcoat pocket—there was no chain attached to it—they stood still and talked to me—one of them put her hand in my waistcoat pocket—I looked, and found my watch was gone—I said, "You have got my watch"—Wilson said, "No, I have not got it"—they then went away, and I followed them for a little while, and a gentleman came up and spoke to me—this is my watch (produced)—I saw it about a couple of days afterwards at the Mansion House.
Wilson. I know nothing about it.
CHARLES JOHN THACKWAY . I am a shipbroker's clerk, and life at 230, Queen's Road, Dalston—on 20th September I was walking down Jewry Street, Aldgate, and saw the two prisoners and the prosecutor come out of Northumberland Alley—they crossed the road, and the man followed—the prisoner Smith turned to the left, when she came out of the alley, and Wilson erased the road, and the prosecutor crossed after her, caught hold of her, and said, "You have stolen my watch"—she said, "I have not"—I went up to his side, and he said, "This woman has stolen my watch"—Wilson called to Smith, and Smith went alongside of her, and I distinctly saw her pass the watch to Smith—I left the prosecutor holding Wilson, and followed Smith some distance—she went up towards Fenchurch Street
Railway Station—at the corner of London Street she tailed a Hanson cab—she got in, and I said to the cabman, "Where are you going to drive that woman?"—she looked oat and said, "What is that to do with you? I am going to Liverpool Street"—I told the cabman to drive to the Seething Lane Station—she got out of the cab then, and I followed her through Fenchurch Street and Aldgate—she turned into Houndsditch, on the left band side of the way—a policeman was about fifty yards distant—she crossed the road by Aldgate Church, and I saw her throw the watch into the churchyard—I then called to the constable—another witness got over and got the watch, and handed it through to the constable—Smith was taken into custody—I afterwards went with the officer Hawkes, to Birdcage Walk, Bethnal Green—I there saw Wilson, and pointed her out—she was taken into custody, and charged with stealing the watch—she said she did not do it.
JAMES GRIFFITHS . I am a grocer's assistant, at 7, Mile End Road—on the night of 20th September, shortly after 10 o'clock, I was passing Aldgate Church—I saw the last witness, a constable, and the prisoner there—I got over the railings, and picked up the watch, and gave it to the constable.
THOMAS TOWNSEND (City Policeman 920). Smith was given into my custody by Mr. Thackway, and charged with stealing a watch—whilst I was receiving the charge, she put her hand back, and put the watch through the church railings, and said, "The gentleman is rather too cunning"—I took her to the station—she said she lived at 5, Charles Street, Hackney Road—I have made inquiries, but could hot find anybody there.
JOHN HAWKES (City Policeman 848) On 15th October I went with Thackway, and took Wilson into custody at Birdcage, Walk—I charged her with being concerned with Annie Harding—I knew Smith by that name—she said, "I have been taken up before, but I knew nothing about it—the prosecutor identified her at the station—she gave a false address.
GUILTY . They were farther charged with having been before convicted, Wilson on 17th August, 1865, and Smith on 21st October, 1861, to which they
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS BROOKS . I am a printer and publisher, at 128, Aldersgate Street—the prisoner was in my employment as town traveller for about a fortnight—it was his duty to collect orders, and to write them in a book kept by him—I paid him 1s. a week salary, and made arrangements with him that he was to receive a commission of half the clear profits when the work was completed and paid for—I have the agreement here—it was written by me, and signed by the prisoner—I have an order-book in the prisoner's handwriting, kept by himself-on the 10th September there is an entry purporting to be an order from Messrs. White & Mann, of Holborn Bars, for 5000 circulars of velocipedes, oh tinted paper, and other circulars, amounting to 17l., as estimated by himself—on the same date there is an entry purporting to be an order from Messrs. Young & Co., amounting to 10l., that was for 100,000l. labels—on the same date there is another entry Purporting to be an order from Messrs. Williams, of Chelsea, for about
10l.—I put all those orders into execution—I did not exactly estimate the profit—I could not tell that until the orders were completed—I paid the prisoner money on account of those orders—on the 10th I paid him 1l. 10d., and a shilling for the week—that was only a nominal sum to make him a weekly servant—on the 18th I paid him a shilling and also thirty shillings commission upon the work in progress—at the time I paid him I believed that the orders in the books were genuine—after the second sum was paid I found that all the orders were fictitious—I paid the money on account of those orders generally.
Prisoner. Q. When you found out the orders were not good, did you speak to me about them? A. I did not see you directly—you were not present—I never asked you for an explanation—I can't say whether you received the orders from another party—you were regular in attendance every morning—I had given instructions to a detective to take you when you came to the office—he had been waiting for you a day or two—I did not suggest before the Magistrate that an agreement should be drawn up—I did not ask if I might speak to you—you asked to speak to me—your wife pressed me very much, and I was rather inclined to withdraw from the prosecution, and I was informed that I could not, and that the Magistrate could not deal with it summarily—I was informed that if I withdrew I should be liable to an action for false imprisonment—I told your wife that if you did not plead guilty you would very likely get penal servitude, because I have ascertained that your character was so bad—I did not say so to you.
COURT. Q. What was the amount of the orders? A. From 10l. to 20l. altogether.
ALDRIDGE MANN . I am in partnership with Mr. White, and am a sewing machine maker, at 143, Holborn Bars—I never gave the prisoner any order on the 10th September, or on any other day, on account of Mr. Brooks—I did not order 5000 bills of any Kind—I don't remember that I ever saw the prisoner.
WILLIAM LOVE . I am in the employment of Messrs. Young & Co., of Bucklersbury, and manage their business—I never gave! the prisoner any orders on the 10th September for any goods or labels—I do not know him.
JOHN JOSSELYN . I am clerk and collector to Mr. James Williams, of Jubilee Place, Chelsea, who is blind maker and contractor to the Government—I do not know the prisoner—I never ordered any goods from him on the 10th September, or any day, on account of Thomas Brooks, of Aldersgate Street—there is no entry in the books of any such order having been given without my knowledge.
The Prisoner, in his Defence, stated that he did not receive the orders through the parties themselves, but through a man named Dodd; that he did not know they were not genuine, and that he told Mr. Brook that he had to pay a sovereign for them.
GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY KNIGHT . I am clerk to Messrs. Warner & Co., Engineers, 8, lewin Crescent—on 22nd July I paid the prisoner 2l. 3s. for insertions in the Business Directory of London—he gave me this receipt for the money, and signed it in my presence.
Prisoner. Q. When you gave that amount, did I give you the official receipts? A. You offered them, but they were objected to, because they were an inconvenient shape.
ERHARDT BRAMBERG . I am a merchant, at 2, Tower Royal, Cannon Street—on the 1st September I paid the prisoner a cheque for 2l. 6s., on account of Mr. Morris—he gave me this receipt—the cheque was paid through my bankers.
Prisoner. Q. When you paid the amount it was about closing up time in the evening? A. Yes—there were a number of corrections to be made, and you promised to draw out the insertion and call again to give me an opportunity of revising it.
JOHN SMART CROSBIE MORRIS . I am proprietor of the Business Directory of London—I employ a large number of persons in the same position is the prisoner—they are called canvassers—I took the prisoner into my service about two years ago—his wages was 15s. per week, and from 16 to 25 per cent. commission—his income averaged more than 150l. a year—this (produced) is one of the sheets that he would have to render his account upon—it was his duty to account to me not less seldom than once a week—if he was in the country he would have to account every Monday morning—in 115 weeks he has accounted to me 142 times—he accounted on the 22nd July, 14th August, 23rd August, 28th August, 2nd September, and 10th September—it would be his duty to pay down the money received for advertisements—on the back of his account from the 22nd July to the 27th, he charged five days' pay, 121s. 6d.—the amount collected 8l., and his commission 2l.—the names on the back are the, names of the persons from whom be received the money—there are numbers to the names, showing the order in which the money was paid—I never permitted him to retain sums of money—on one occasion he came to me and said his wife was ill, and he begged that he might retain a little money, and I allowed him to owe me 10l.—he has not accounted to me for 2l. 3s. received from Warner & Co., 2l. 6s. from Bamberg, and 1l. 9s. from Keen & Co.—he was supplied with receipts for a shilling and five, shillings—if he received 30s. he would tear off six five shilling receipts, and enter the principal on the back of his sheet—we issue so many receipts to him, and he has to return all the unused ones or money—I did not authorize him to give Bramberg a receipt like this—I cautioned the public against receiving them—the prisoner has never accounted tome for 1l. 18s. received on the 28th July, 18s. on the 29th, or 16s. on the 30th—on 28th July he accounted for some money he had received, but Warner's account was not included in it, and he took it out again as one of the accounts not collected—I do not owe the prisoner 39l. 16s. for advertisements—I do not owe him anything—he never made any claim upon me until this charge was made against him—he was engaged for me at Manchester at one time, and resided there—he left Manchester about the 29th May—I never heard of his losing 8l. out of his pocket until the charge was made.
Prisoner. Q. You say I was with you at a salary of 15s. a week? A. No—it is a mistake, it was 30s.—you have sometimes been twenty-one days and more before accounting to me—you were at the office very often, twenty times a weeks—I never complained of your not coming—I allowed you to retain 9l. 6s. 8d., and you gave me an I O U for it—it is the first time I ever had a receipt objected to, as it was by Mr. Knight—I expect a canvasser to work eight hours a day—if a canvasser worked from 5 in the morning until 2, I should consider that he was entitled to extra pay, and I should
not have thought it unreasonable if a claim was made for extra pay—in consequence of your working overtime I gave you 5l. for a present—I recollect one of the canvassers absconding with a number of documents—he was transported for seven years—you engaged him, I believe—you never made any claim for commission at all until after the hearing at Guildhall, and then you began to put forward this claim—I was never sued by any of my canvassers for commission—there was a man in my employ who threatened to put me in the Lord Mayor's Court—he did not do it.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. With regard to the I O U, he failed to account to that amount in his regular accounting? A. He did—and then he told me his wife was confined and his children ill, and he gave me the I O U for 9l. 6s. 8d.—I treated that as a civil debt—with regard to the 5l. I gave him, he wrote me an extremely handsome letter, thanking me very much, and I thought the man was very thankful for it—I never had a claim from him for extra work, or for commission upon the Manchester work.
THOMAS BALLS . I am clerk to Messrs. Keen & Co., 6, Garlick Hill—on 25th August I received 1l. 9s., and paid it to the prisoner on account of Mr. Morris, and he gave me this receipt (produced) for it.
CHARLES MORRIS . I am brother to the prosecutor—on Friday, the 10th September, I saw the prisoner—I went over the call-book, and asked him why Warner's account was not paid—he said he had seen one of the junior members of the firm, and that he was waiting to see one of the senior members—ho had previously said the same thing—I had called his attention to that account before—I asked him about Mr. Kean's account, and he said he had seen Mr. Kean just as he was about to leave town, and he bad not received the money then, but was sure to get it when Mr. Kean returned to town—that amount of that account was 1l. 9s.—with regard to Bramberg's he said only one of the partners had inspected the matter that was to be printed, but as soon as the other partner had approved of it be would receive the account in the ordinary way—I was present when he was taken into custody—as he was leaving the place he said, "Oh! Mr. Charles, do speak a word for me to your brother"—I shook my head, and said I could not, and he said, "You can have the money to-morrow."
Prisoner. Q. Did I say I should settle up with him to-morrow? A. The words you used were, "You can have the money to-morrow"—I have no recollection of the words "settle up."
JURY. Q. Was the prisoner bound to settle up every week? A. The periods were usually a week, frequently less—I don't see how amounts could be omitted, when he did not settle up.
THOMAS HURST (City Police Sergeant 62). I took the prisoner into custody—he said, "I am very sorry; but if Mr. Morris waits till to-morrow the matter will be compromised; it was owing to a hole in my pocket that I lost it"—he pulled out his pocket and showed me a hole—I took him to the station—I found 2s. 2 1/2 d., and a number of memoranda on him.
Prisoner. Q. Did I not state to the inspector that there was a large account against the prosecutor, and that it was him and not me he ought to have taken? A. You did; but Mr. Morris denied it.
The Prisoner, in his Defence, stated that he had lost 8l. in money from a hole in his pocket, and that he was unable to return it; that the very sums which he was charged with embezzling he had paid over to Mr. Morris in the name of other parties; and that it was with the view of making the sum up afterwards that he substituted them; that he had a large claim against the prosecutor
for work done, amounting to 40l. or 50l., and he had no hesitation in taking the temporary we of a pound or two; that his intention was to square the accounts when he was taken into custody— NOT GUILTY —See Third Court, Friday.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, October 27th, 1869.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
928. GEORGE DUNLOP (20) , to forging and uttering an order for the delivery of a cheque-book, also an order for the payment of 50l., with intent to defraud Henry Charlton Merivale— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
930. JOHN STANTON (45) , to three indictments for uttering orders for the payment of 1l. 13s. 6d., 1l. 7s. 9d., and 1l. 7s. 6d., with intent to defraud— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
931. CHARLES KNIGHT (29) , to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences silk goods, value 98l. 18s., with intent to defraud John Vanner and others, also to obtaining 400 yards of silk of the Fore Street Warehouse Company by false pretences; also to stealing the said 400 yards of silk, having been before convicted—Recommended to mercy by the prosecutors— Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
933. EDWARD BOSWELL (20) , to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Joseph Lambert, and stealing therein eighteen cigars, and other articles, his property; also to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charles Rumlitt, and stealing therein one jacket and other articles, his property— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
JAMES REYNOLDS . I am a cab proprietor, of Torrington Mews, Edgware Road—on 1st September I placed a mare in a field at Kensal Greed Farm—I missed her on the 15th, and saw her again at High Wycombe on the 22nd.
JOSEPH HICKMAN . I manage my brother's business on Kesal Green Farm—on 1st September Reynolds sent a mare to me, which was on the premises up to the 15th, when I missed it, and three horses as well—I have since seen the mart at Wycombe.
HENRY MANLEY . I keep the George Inn, Beaconsfield, twenty-three miles from London—on 16th September, about 11 p.m., the prisoner came to my house with a mare and a gig, and asked for lodgings for themselves, and stabling—they stopped all night—Baker wanted to know if I knew a person who would buy the mare—I told him of a person, but I do not think they went there—they left next morning.
GEORGE GEORGE . I keep the Coach and Horses at Wycombe, five miles and three quarters from Beaconsfield—on Friday, 17th December, about 10.30, the prisoners came there with a mare and a gig—they gave the mare a feed of corn, and then took her and the gig up into the market—I did
not see them coma back, but they were about the yard together—I saw Davis drive away at a rapid rate three-quarters of an hour afterwards—they forgot to pay for the stabling.
GEORGE DAVIS . I am superintendent of police for Wycombe—on Friday, 17th September, I saw the prisoners in Wycombe Market, and watched them—they had a mare and a trap, and I saw Baker strike hands, which is a signal when they make a bargain—Carter was then about 100 yards away, and I afterwards saw Richardson—I went down to the public house where they were staying, as I saw that they saw me, but they were off—I got into a trap and overtook Baker two miles off, alone in the gig, which he had sold but had not delivered—he knew who I was—I gave him the usual caution, and asked his name—he said William Baker, and that he came from Dartmoor Street; that the horse and cart were his own, as he bought the horse at Barnet Fair, and the trap he swopped—I took him in custody, and as we were on the road to the lock-up, Richardson passed us—I had given orders to my man to take Carter—I afterwards showed the mare to the prosecutor.
Richardson. Q. Did you see me in company with these two? A. No—but you were close to them—there were five or six of you together—you could be in the market without being in company with them—I could not find the address you gave.
JOSEPH CHEESE . I am landlord of the Three Tons, at Wycombe—on Friday, 17th December, Baker and Carter came to my house—Baker asked me if I would buy a mare—I said that I did not think I should—he got into the trap and drove down the street and back again—I said, "How long have you had them?"—Carter said, "We chopped for it at Uxbridge, yesterday"—Baker said, "Do not take any notice of my man; he will tell you any lie; I chopped for it at Barnet Fair"—they left, and Davis afterwards showed me the same mare.
Baker's Defence. I bought the mare at Barnet Fair, and brought her to Shepherd's Bush, on 6th September, and never saw her again till I fetched her out of the green-yard, or one just like her—there was a rummish mark on her foot.
Carter's Defence. I saw Baker at Barnet Fair buy a mare resembling this one in the green-yard—he went there and said that this was his mare—he asked me if I was going to the country—I said I did not mind where I went, so long as I could earn a shilling or two.
Richardson's Defence. I travel to markets; Aylesbury fair was handy and so was Wycombe fair. I asked them to give me a lift down, and they did so.
SAMUEL HARDY . I am attached to Paddington green-yard—a man named James Hill, of Clifton Road, brought this mare there on the 15th—three of them were found straying—Baker called for the mare next day and said she belonged to him—I think he was sober—three others were with him, who I cannot identify—I gave the mare up to him—I did not see Hill again—I do not give a ticket when a horse is brought to the green-yard, I only take the name and address—I should give it up to anyone who applies for it.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did you take Baker's name and address? A. Yet.
Baker. I gave no name or address, it was Carter.
Carter. I gave you the name and address.
Witness. The address given me was "William Baker, 21, East Street, Netting Hill.
BAKER and RICHARDSON— GUILTY . They were both charged with former convictions of horse stealing, to which they
PLEADED GUILTY— Ten Years' Penal Servitude each.
CARTER— GUILTY — Ten Years' Penal Servitude,
There were other indictments against the prisoners for horse stealing.
MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution; MR. COLE appeared for Hogan, and MR. W. SLEIGH for Reffell.
CLARA NEWCOMBE . On Monday, 22nd September, I was living at 32, Albert Street, Regent's Park—I was with my mother that day, in New Oxford Street, near Newton & Wilson's, the sewing machine makers—she had a brown leather porte monnaie in her hand, with an elastic band to it—I saw no one there till I saw her falling, and then I saw Hogan running away—I ran after him, and described him to the police—my mother was very much hurt—I saw Hogan again on the following Thursday, at Bow Street Station, and picked him out from several others—he is the map I described to the police—I identify him by his side face, his general figure, and his dress—to the best of my belief he is the man.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Was Hogan committed for trial after the remand? A. He was remanded once, and committed for trial the second time—I was communicated with by Reffell—I told the police there was only one man in it, and that was the man I had seen—I pursued Hogan a little way round the corner, by Newton and Wilson's shop—a good many people ran when I ran—I observed him when I was pursuing him round the street.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Did Hogan come up behind? A. Yes—the first thing I saw was my mother falling, and Hogan running away—I did not see him seize the purse—I saw no one strike my mother; but she seemed to be spun round—I described him as with dark, short hair, of the usual height, wearing a dark coat and a hat; and, I believe, dark trowsers, and a fair complexion, without whiskers or beard—by fair complexion, I mean entirely destitute of hair (The witness gave this description with her face turned from the prisoners)—I am not accustomed to judge of height.
MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. When you first turned round you saw your mother spinning round, and nobody running but Hogan? A. Nobody ran, till I called.
ELIZABETH WARNER . I am single, and live at 9, Smart's Buildings—about 11.30 on the morning in question, I was coming down the stairs of the King's Arms public-house, Smart's Buildings, and saw Reffell with something brown, more like a pocket-book than a purse, because there were leaves in it—he pulled out a piece of paper, showed it to Hogan, and, I believe, he put it back again—I believe he put the pocket-book in his pocket again, and Hogan said, "You must beef, for there is someone after you"—that was Morris—I had known him about two months—his wife's mother lived near us; but I have only just passed the time of day with him.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Did not Hogan live in the same house as you for three months? A. I was not there three mouths—I have
only spoken to one old woman about my evidence—I knew that Hogan was remanded, and was going to be heard again; but I did not go and give my evidence in his case—I know Mrs. Hogan, and her mother, and most of the family—I did not speak to Mrs. Hogan about this before Hogan was committed for trial—I was told that if I went and told this story at the Police Court, I should get myself into trouble—I went to the prison to identify Reffell, when he was taken—that was after Hogan had been committed for trial—I went at 7 o'clock, and was told by the police to come Again at 8—Mrs. Hogan and I went at 8 o'clock, and Reffell stood by himself, behind an iron railing, so that I at once saw that he was the person in custody—if I had not known him, I think I should have known he was the person, from the position in which he stood—I had never seen the two together before.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Are you perfectly certain you saw Reffell pull out the parse? A. Yes, and pull out the paper and put it in—I am certain of him, because I knew him by sight—Hogan wag coming down the King's Arms stairs, when he said, "You must beef, for someone is after you."
MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Who was it said that you would get into trouble if you went to the Police Court? A. Mrs. Copeland, an old lady who lives in the next house—I knew Reffell before—I had seen him at the public-house corner; but not many times—I am quite sure he is the man.
MARY RUTHEN . I live in the alms houses, Coal Yard, Drury Lane—on this Monday, about 12, as I was coming by Lumber Court, Seven Dials, I saw Reffell with a brown purse hi his hand—he went into a baker's shop corner of Lumber Court, and came out with the purse in his hand and a piece of paper—I knew him before; I have seen him about—Hogan is my brother-in-law.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH Q. Hare you told anybody before you gave your evidence, that you saw him in the baker's shop? A. No—I told Dowdell, the detective, that I saw Reffell go into the baker's shop—I knew that Hogan was taken up for a robbery—I did not go to the Police Court and give this evidence in his behalf—I saw at the Police Court that It was a brown leather purse with a steel spring—I do not know whether he spoke to a man or a woman in the baker's shop.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Where was he standing? A. At the corner of Lumber Courts—I had a perfectly clear view of the shop, but there was a lot of bread in the window, and he might speak to anybody without my seeing who it was.
JOHN DOWDELL (Policeman). On 15th October I wept to 36, King Street, Long Acre, and found Reffell in the front room, second floor—I said that Hogan had made a statement in prison respecting him, and I should take him for being concerned in assaulting and robbing a lady in Oxford Street, on 27th September, of a purse and a 5l. note—he made no reply—he was placed among several others at the station, and was identified in my absence—the charge was read over to him—he made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Had you any communication with Hogan before you saw him in prison? A. No.
JULIUS HENGUSTEIRI . I am an engineer, of 3J, New North Street, Red Lion Square—I work at Newton & Wilson's, New Oxford Street—about 10.45 on Monday morning I was in the shop when two ladies came in one of whom fainted—before that I saw Reffell run past the shop, in the
diction from Bloomsbury Square—he ran first past the front of the shop, and then past the back of the shop—he was 5ft. or 6ft. from me—as he passed the shop I saw his face twice—I followed him to Bloomsbury Square, and afterwards saw him in custody, among plenty of other people, and picked him out.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Did you pick him out on the day before you was examined before the Magistrate? A. Yes—I did not pick out a man with a moustache that day—I said "This is like the thief, but this is not the thief; this man has hair, and my man had no hair"—I had been to the police-station about three weeks before, to pick oat a man—I saw a man with a moustache, and said, "This man is like the man, but this man has hair, add the thief has not hair"—what I said was read over to me, and I signed it, and said that I understood it—I only saw one man rushing, and the lady stopped and called "Stop thief"—more ladies were rutting round the corner of our shop—but no other men ran for two or three minutes—I got back to the shop before the lady came in.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Did you know either of these men before? A. No—they were perfect strangers to me.
SAMUEL BALLS . I am a packer, at 18, New Wellington Street, Roman Road, Islington—I was at work at Newton & Wilson's, heard somebody nil out, and saw Hogan run past the shop door—I went out and out and heard a cry of "Stop thief"—I ran after him but he got away—I identify him by his general appearance—he wore a deer-stalker hat, a dark cost and trowsers, and his coat was sun-burnt—I have not the slightest doubt he is the mat—I saw him at the station with others, and picked him out.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Were you examined at the Police Court? A. Yes—I said that I was about ten yards behind him when I started—he ran faster than I did.
MR. WILLAMS. If he had not, you would have caught him? A. Yes.
JOSEPH WINDSOR (Policeman). I received information, and went to a public-house in the Coal Yard, Drury Lane, where I found Hogan—I called him outside, and told him I should take him to the station, cm suspicion of stealing a purse from Mrs. Newcombe, on the Monday previous, in Oxford Street—he said, "You are getting it up for me"—I said, "No"—he said, "Will you give me a fair chance"—I said "Yes"—I took him to the station, and Miss Newcombe came and picked him out from a number of men—he said "Did you give her the tip?"—I said, "No"—he said that he was innocent—I had seen him before I spoke to him about the robbery—he said that he knew who it was and would tell me, but he did not.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Did the foreign gentleman pick out a man with a moustache as the man? A. Yes—and I asked him if he was sure he was the man, and he said, "Yes"—it was neither of the prisoners—he afterwards picked out Reffell.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Did he not say, "This man is like the thief, but is not the thief? A. No—I saw Hogan on the night of the robbery, me had some conversation and a pint of beer together—I did not offer him 5s. if he would tell me who man was who stole the purse—I said that I should pay him, but I did not mention the sum—I did nit give him a shilling, only two pints of beer that day, and one the next day.
MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Had you known him before? A. Yes.
Newton & Wilson's shop, High Holborn, and saw an elderly lady and a young one together—I saw the elderly lady fall, but did not see her receive the blow—I saw a man pass Newton & Wilson's shop—he put his right hand to his right hand trowsers pocket, and when be got to the second corner he ran—the young lady started after him—I was about twenty yards from him—if Keffell was a little taller I should say that he was the man.
MARIA NEWCOMBE . I am the wife of Thomas Newcombe—I was with my daughter in Oxford Street—I had my puree in my hand, which was a very small pocket-book, which closed with a steel clasp, and it had a small piece of elastic round it, and in one side of it was a little case of sticking plaster, and a 5l. note—I saw a face, and I thought what impertinence for anyone to put his face so close to mine, and while I was looking at the face I felt my purse move; I grasped my hand very tight, and looked at him—he pulled the purse up, and seemed to turn me round, and I was thrown down—Hogan is the man, I have not the slightest doubt of him—I was very much hurt, and confined to my bed for a fortnight afterwards—I have not recovered yet—I pointed Hogan out at the station from a number of persons.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Did you see the side face of the person for some time? A. Yes—(The witness was directed to turn her face from the prisoners)—I noticed that he was a young man about 21, with no beard or whiskers, and short hair—I cannot tell whether he had a Grecian or a Roman nose—I looked at the face altogether, and he was much stouter than he ii now—he had a wide-awake hat, but I do not know what it was made of—I am not near sighted.
KATE POUT . I am Hogan's sister—after he was in custody I saw Reffell three times—he came and said that my brother was not the man who did the robbery, and as long as he did not round on him he would pay all the solicitors he wanted, and if he got more than twelve months' he would give himself up.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Were you examined at the Police Court? A. Yes, to my shame—I said, "I am the wife of Joseph Pout, of 4, Charles Street, Fitzroy Square, wine merchant; my husband's place of business is at Dean Street, Soho; I have been married twelve months"—I afterwards said that I was not married—I knew of this about three days after Hogan was in custody—when Reffell told me that, I was in a public-house with my sister—I went there with Hogan's wife—Reffell called me out, leaving her there, and made a communication to me—I went back into the public-house, but did not tell my sister this till next day, until I gave my evidence at the Police Court—I never saw my sinter, as I was very ill—I did not tell Mr. Pout what Reffell told me—I told no other person.
MR. W. SLEIGH to J. DOWDELL. Q. Have you been to Lumber Court and seen the baker? A. No—I never heard the evidence till to-day—I gave my evidence after Mary Ruthin, and did not know what she said till to-day—I was out of Court.
HOGAN— GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
REFFELL— GUILTY . He further PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction, in September, 1868**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, October 28th, 1869.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGY WILLIAMS the Defence.
EUGENE BARDOUT . (Interpreted) I live at 15, Jermyn Street—on Saturday night, 23rd October, about 11.30, or from that to midnight, I was walking along Jermyn Street, going to a night-house, when the prisoner came behind me and snatched my watch and chain, and broke the chain in three places—I cried "Police! police!" nobody was in the street, there was no policeman there—the prisoner struck me two blows with a cane, and ran away as fast as he could—I ran after him and cried "Police!" and "Thief!" several times, and he was stopped by a policeman—this is my watch and chain, and this is the stick I was struck with—I got 15l. at the pawn-shop for the watch—one part of the chain fell on the ground, and one part remained round my neck, and the watch remained in my watch pocket—there were very little marks on my shoulder from the blows—I had a very thick shawl on—he struck me with the thin end of the stick—it was broken.
Cross-examined. Q. Where had you been before you were going to the night-house? A. I was coming from home—I am not hi the habit of frequenting the neighbourhood of the Haymarket—I am a kept woman—I have not been in the habit of walking Regent Street for years—I have not been summoned to Marlborough Street for assaults and for soliciting men in Regent Street—I have never been locked up for an assault, or anything of that kind—I have been locked up twice before—all the ladies were locked up coming out of the Argyll Rooms—I was never proceeded against by Mr. Dolby, of Regent Street—I was once a defendant at Marlborough Street; and paid 1l.—I hate brought charges against other persons for assault, and I brought an action at the Westminster County Court against my landlady for detaining my things—I left France to come over to England with a gentleman—I am able to go back to France, said the proof of that is, that two months ago I was there—I was never charged with soliciting gentlemen in the street; it was said so, but it was not proved—I did not speak to the prisoner on this occasion, or touch him on the arm—I did not see him, he was behind me—he did not push me away from him, he struck me twice no my right shoulder.
MR. BRINDLEY. Q. What became of the charge against you of soliciting gentlemen? A. It was dismissed—when I summoned other parties they had to pay 10l. or 20l. each.
WILLIAM PEAT (Policeman C 194), I was on duty in Jermyn Street about 12 o'clock on this night—I heard a cry from the prosecutrix of "Police!" and "Stop thief!" and saw the prisoner running away as fast us he could to wards, me—I stopped him—the prosecutrix came up at the same time, and he was taken to the station on her charge—this stick was given to me on the road to the station, by some gentleman—the prisoner said it was hit stick.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you made inquiries as to who the prisoner is? A. Yes, he is a professional man, a doctor I believe, and a person of respectability.
Several witnesses deposed to the prisoner's character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCACFE conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY— Judgment respited.
NEW COURT, Thursday, October 28th, 1869.
Before Mr. Justice Lussh.
MESSRS. COOPER and BYRON conducted the Prosecution; and and MR. LITTLER the Defence.
SUSAN GLENN . I am the wife of William Glenn, who keeps the Grosvenor Arms, Hounslow—Sarah Ann Smith, the deceased, was my sister—she had for some years past lived at our house, the Grosvenor Arms—she was married to the prisoner—he was often absent at work and looking for work, for a month or two at a time—he is a stone sawyer—he had been away four weeks on the Monday that he came home on the Thursday—his wife was at our house when he came home on 23rd September, about 5 o'clock—she had been out in the early part of the day; she loft between 7 and 8 in the morning, and came home again about 12—I do not know where she had been, she did not tell me that—the went out again after that, and came borne about 3 o'clock, or it might be 4, I cannot say—I could then see from her manner and appearance that she had been drinking—I do not think she was exactly drunk, but she was the worse for liquor—the prisoner came home about 5 o'clock, and asked for a pint of beer, which I gate him at the bar—I said, "Why don't you come into the kitchen?" because he always used to go into the kitchen—he said, "No, this will do for me," and I think he went into the tap-room with it—his wife was then lying on the sofa in the kitchen, which is on the same floor as the tap-room—he had not seen her or asked for her when he asked for the beer—a little later on he went into the kitchen where she was and lit his pipe, but I did not hear them speak to one another—I did not hear them speaking, I was too far off—I cannot say how long they remained there—the next time I saw them they were standing at the bar together, between 10 and 11 o'clock, but I heard nothing pass between them—I then saw him knock her down with his fist at the bar where they were standing—he said, "I have bunged one eye up for you, and now I will bung the other up—that was after he struck her—I had not observed anything the matter with her eye before that—he then took this hand-chopper (produced) out of his pocket, and said, "This will do you"—she was lying on the floor, and I stood in front of him that he should not do anything more to her—when he had used those words he put the chopper back into his pocket again—it is, I think, a tool used in his trade—he did not strike her again, that I saw—she got up soon after, and Went out at the tack door—I went into the kitchen to get her up to bed, and while I was in the kitchen I heard a rustling at the bottom of the stairs, and before I could light the candle, I went to see what it was—there was a light in the bar, and I found my sister lying with her head towards the wall, and her feet towards the stairs (the staircase is in the direction of the back door)
—the prisoner was dote to her, touching her—I put my hand to her chest, and found she did not breathe—I said, "Sarah does not breathe"—he said, "Nonsense, she is only faint; I have seen her faint oftentimes before"—I tried her again, and found she did not breathe, and I called my husband, who looked at her, put his hand to her forehead, said she was dead and told the prisoner to go away for a doctor immediately the prisoner went out, and my husband went after him—the prisoner returned a minute or two before my husband—he went towards the beer cellar when be came back—that is on the same floor with the kitchen—my husband came back soon afterwards, with Sergeant Hooper, and a constable—the distance between the foot of the staircase and the wall against which her head laid is four or five feet, I should fancy.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner formerly in the army? A. Yes—I do not know how long, or whether he was discharged with good-conduct money and stripes—my sister has been stopping with toe for years—they both lived with us when he was at home—he was in the habit of going shout the country, getting work, and from time to time be joined her at our house—there were no children—she was given to drink—I do not know that she was in the habit of associating with soldiers from the barracks while he was away—she used to go out—I do not knew where she went to—this been house is frequented by very few soldiers—I have seen two or three there—I have seen her drinking with a soldier.
Q. With a soldier called Jack? A. I never a name mentioned—she used to go out—she was very fond of going out—the always get on very well with me and my husband—we were always two good friends to her and her husband both—there had been no quarrel between her and my husband on the 23rd; but she wanted to take away her things and my husband said, "Do not take them away to sell for drink; your husband will only make a noise when he comes home"—he always told us not to give the things up to her—I think this was about 3 o'clock in the day, I cannot say exactly—she went away crying and saying that she would see whether she could demand her things or not, and she took her bedstead down, and pot it in the garden, and the chairs that she had there, in order to take them away—my husband told her she had better not take them; but he helped her down with the bedstead, and took, it out in the garden with her, Baying, that If she wished it he could not help it—I saw her go away crying, without any bonnet on—when she took to drinking, she would cry for anything—I will under take to say that nothing more took place than my husband advising her not to take the bedstead—he did not turn her out by the shoulders—I was there—I can swear he never turned her out all the years he was with us—I must have seen it if he did—I did not see him strike her over the eye—she did not tell me she was going to see a man named Grant, a policeman, to see whether she could get her things—she was perfectly the would go and see whether she could get her things—she was perfectly sober when she went out between 7 and 8—she had been sleeping at our house that night, but she was out the night before, and came in and went to bed about 10 o'clock—I have never locked her out—she has remained out once or twice; we sat up till 1 o'clock—she did not come back, and we did not know where she was, and then we locked the door because we could not sit up all night—that was when the prisoner was away—it might be three weeks before this happened—when he came home she was lying on the sofa
suffering from the effects of drink, I do not think she was drunk, she had been drinking—ours is a beer-house, the tap, the kitchen, the cellar, and the parlour are all close to one another—we have not a beer engine, we have to fetch the beer in jugs from the cellar—he came in and lit hit pipe when the was lying on the sofa—Sophia Barlow was in the kitchen—the prisoner was quite sober then—immediately after he had lighted his pipe he went into the tap-room—I know Sophia Barlow went into the room—I do not know whether she persuaded his wife to go to him—I do not remember a conversation between Smith and his wife and Barlow, about a soldier running away from Hounslow Barracks—she did not say something to him in the kitchen, nor did I say to her "Hold your tongue, you fool, you know too much"—I never named such a thing—I do not know whether she was using foul language at that time, but she used to do so when she was drunk—there was nobody else in the bar during the evening—I do not know whether there was anybody in the tap-room, I did not go in—my husband and I serve, and Sophia—Sophia lit the gas and served in the evening—I only served a coachman with a pint of beer—I saw on soldiers that night—my husband was serving, but he was in and out several times—it was between 10 and 11 that I saw him strike her, in front of the bar, on the right eye—I cannot say to a few minutes—I then interfered to prevent his using further violence—I stood in front of her and pushed him away—that was the only blow with the fist that I saw—but he took the chopper out, and I saw him lift his leg to kick her on the left shoulder and the left side—I will swear that—I could see that hit foot touched her shoulder or her side—this is my mark to this statement—I do not recollect it being read over to me before I signed it—I think what I had stated was read over to me by a gentleman in Court—what I have said here is true, and I cannot recollect but what I said the truth before the Magistrate—that was on the 25th September, two days after it happened—(The witnesses deposition stated: "He knocked her down four or five times, and kicked her awfully")—he kicked her very much on the floor.
Q. You said just now, in the hearing of the Jury, you did not know whether he touched her? A. He touched her somewhere—he did not knock her down four or five times, only once—I took her wedding-ring off her finger within ten minutes after I found her dead—I do not know why I did that—I knew that she was dead, and I thought she had been killed by her husband's violence—the prisoner took the tool out of a side pocket, I do not know which, with his right hand—it was completely hidden from my view before he took it out—I could not see a piece of it—that is the same coat he has on—I think he has got an inside pocket—(The hatchet was tried to the prisoner's pockets, but would not go into any of them to at to be concealed)—He put his tools in the yard when he came in—I think this is the basket of tools he generally carried (produced)—I think he took it into the yard—I saw it in the yard next morning—this hatchet was found next morning in the beer-cellar, by the policeman—I did not send the policeman for it—t cannot recollect saying to Hooper, "Have you found the dipper?—I may have—I saw it in the cellar when Hooper said that it was there, but not before he was there—I did not notice the basket in the cellar, I do not know whether it was within a yard of where this lay—I had not looked for the clipper the night before, because I did not know whether he had it in his pocket—I think I named to the policeman that I had seen him
threaten her with the clipper, but I cannot be certain—I cannot undertake to say whether I said a single word about the clipper the evening before—I told Sergeant Hooper that he had knocked my sitter down, and I think I told him about the kicking.
Q. How was it you came to say next morning to Hooper, "Have you found the dipper?" A. I do not know whether I said so or not—when they were at the bottom of the stain there were lodgers up stairs—I dare say I said before the Magistrate that no one had a right to be up stairs—I do not know whether the lodgers had gone to bed—no other person had a right to be going up stairs at that time—I think she said, "You sha'n't sleep with me to-night, and I think she called him a sod—that was just before the scuffle.
Q. Did not she say, "You b—y sod, you shall not come up to my room to-night?" A. I did not hear the other word—immediately after that I heard the scuffle—I did not hear what the policeman said to the prisoner—the prisoner told me the same night, soon after, that all he did to her was to give her a pull by the petticoat—I think that was after I said "Sarah does not breathe"—it was daring the same conversation, while we were standing over the fallen woman—I think he said that he pulled her down by the dress—it was then that he said, "I do not think she is dead, she is only fainting, I have seen her so often-times before"—she was still somewhat in liquor—she had been drinking more with the prisoner—I dare say I told the policeman that he said that the way it happened was by pulling her dress—I do not know for certain that I said a single word to the policeman about the chopper—I do not know and cannot say one war or the other.
COURT. Q. You did tell him what he said about pulling her down by the dress? A. Yes—I said to the Magistrate, "My sister was not lying drank on the sofa when he came in"—I cannot say she was drank, but she had been drinking—I was not present when the statement was made before the Magistrate about the clipper being need.
WILLIAM GLENN . I am the husband of the last witness, and keep the Grosvenor Arms beer-shop, Hounslow—on 3rd September I left horns from 3 to 3.30—the deceased was then out—she was out from 7.30 to 8 in the morning, and I saw her on her return, about 12 o'clock—saw went out again in the afternoon, and I did not see her return—I returned home at 8.30 or 8.45, went into the tap-room, and after I had been there some. time I turned round and saw the prisoner sitting behind the door—that was the first I saw of him—I did not observe his wife there, and did not hear anything between them—I remained in the tap-room about a quarter of an hour—I saw the prisoner again at 9.30 or 9.45, standing in front of the bar—his wife was with him—I do not think anyone else was standing near them—I told her husband the way she had been going on, about her being out at night at unreasonable hours—he did not say anything that I heard—I then walked away through the kitchen into the back yard, leaving them at the bar—I came in again in a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, and saw the prisoner standing by the bar, by himself, in the same place—I then went out at the front door to see that all was clear and no one about, and then went into the tap-room, and my wife called me, and said that Sarah, her sister, had fainted—I then went, and saw her in a sitting position, at the bottom of the stairs, with her head leaning up against the wall, and her feet on the mat against the stairs—the distance
between the foot of the stain and the wall against which her head was leaning is four feet—the prisoner was leaning over her—my wife said that she thought her sister Sarah did not breathe, and I told the prisoner, who was there, to seek either a policeman or a doctor, or anyone he could get—on my telling him that he went away at once, and the deceased still remained in the same position, attended by my wife—about twenty minutes after the prisoner left I went to seek him—I found him about half a mile from the house, on the Bath Road, the main road—there are no doctors there—there an houses on one side and cottages on the other—he had passed houses sad cottages—I asked him if he had seen anyone, he said, "No, he did not like to go any further to look"—I told him to come along with me and we would soon find somebody—we went as far as the toll-gate, about a mile from the house—nothing passed on the way—I called for the police, and Sergeant Hooper came up, and the prisoner returned to the house before us—he got there first, but we were in soon after—Sergeant Hooper saw the deceased first, and then went into the cellar.
Cross-examined. Q. When you came in at 8.45, you say he was sitting behind the tap-room door? A. Yes—I believe I said, "Halloa! who would have thought of seeing you"—I do not remember his saying to me, "What's up now?"—or my replying at that time, "She is turning the house inside out, and has got another in tow"—I cannot undertake to say that I did not—I told him in the bar about her being out at night, and being with other men, and always being intoxicated, and I think he said, "Who is it?"—I believe I said in reply, "I do not blame the man, Bill, it is not his fault, he don't want her, but she won't keep away from him"—I cannot remember his saying, "After what has occurred tonight, I will sell the things to-morrow"—I will not undertake to say he did not—I may have said, "That is the best thing you can do, or she will sell them for you"—or something of the kind—his wife was there when that conversation took place—I do not remember her coming in that night with three soldiers, I was not there—I saw three soldiers there, but I did not see her with them.
Q. Did not she try to take some of the soldiers' "beer, and did not You take the pot out of her hand? A. I took a pot out of her band—I did not see her come in that night—I do not know whether she went out—I saw three soldiers in the tap-room.
COURT. Q. Where were the husband and wife then? A. The husband was in the tap-room when the soldiers were there; but I cannot say whether the wife was—I took a pot away from her in the bar, because I did not wish her to have any more drink.
MR. LITTLER. Q. Whose beer was it; did it belong to the soldiers? A. I believe not; but I am not certain that there were no soldiers at the bar at that time—I told Smith that one of those men was the man his with was in the habit of going with—that was in front of the bar, in her presence—I do not remember when that soldier went out—I do not remember the deceased going out, saying she would get some beer elsewhere, if she did not get it there, or seeing Smith prevent her going out of the house—from the time I heard that conversation to the time I found her dead, I only went to the back yard, to the closet, and then I fastened the back garden gate—that was the only time I was away; and when I came back, the prisoner was standing by the bar, by himself—I saw the woman dead at 10 or 10.30—(The Court stated that the witness's depositions did not contain a word of these conversations)—I did not ask the prisoner who did it, my wife did.
COURT. Q. Were you there when she asked him who did it? A. No—this is my signature to these depositions (Read: "I asked the prisoner who did it, and he said they were going up stairs, and the woman said something to him, and he pulled her back")—I am not aware that I said that.
Q. "And my wife said to me, 'Sarah has fallen down;" did your, wife say that? A. Not to my knowledge—she told me that she was faint.
MR. LITTLER. Q. Were the Magistrates at Brentford obliged to reprimand you for the way you gave your evidence? A. They said something about it—the deceased wanted to take her things away that afternoon, and I tried to persuade her not to do it—I did not take her by the shoulders, and put her out; but when she wanted to take the bed from a sick men, I did lay hold of her—my wife was not there then, nor when the deceased talked of the furniture—I did not lay hold of her by the shoulders—I put any arm round her waist, and persuaded her not to go, as she was going up stairs—I know Gant, the policeman.
Q. Did she say she would go to Gant, the policeman, and see if she could not get her things? A. She said that she would have her things—she had no bonnet on—she lived with me at Boxmoor—I knew Stewart from, Woolwich—I once fetched him—I went there and found him in the streets, at Deptford.
COURT. Q. Did you see the instrument that night? A. No, not till it was picked up next morning—when I saw the deceased lying on the stairs, her back was against the wall, and her face looking up the stair—I did not see any blood.
SOPHIA BARLOW . I am a laundry-maid, of 4, Allen Cottage, Tring Road, Hounslow—on Thursday, 23rd September, I went to the Grosvenor Arms, Hounslow, and the prisoner came in a little before 5 o'clock; I was then in the kitchen—he knocked at the bar, and I saw him have some beer, and then he came into the kitchen, lit his pipe, and went away again—his wife was sitting on the sofa when he came in, just leaning against the edge of the sofa, not asleep—she seemed very much excited and confessed, but I do not think she was tipsy; I mean the result of drinking; she had been drinking that day—she said nothing to her husband, and he did not speak to her—at a little before 8 I went and lit the gas in the taproom—I do not know whether the prisoner and his wife had been together between 5 and 8—I left the house and got back just before 8—when I lit the gas Smith was there, and I told he wife, who was in the kitchen, that he was there, and she went in end eat by him—she was then in about the same condition—I heard no more of them; I left the house—it was just before 9 o'clock—no quarrelling had occurred up to that time.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you talk to Smith at all during that evening? A. Yes—we had no conversation about any soldier at all—there was no conversation in my presence about a soldier running away from Hounslow Barracks—I know nothing about a soldier—I did not bear Mrs. Smith are bad language to her husband then, or at any other time—I have known her, on and off, about ten months, and never heard her use bad language—Glenn was about the house all the evening—I did not see three soldiers there, there was one, who followed me in and lit the gas for me, I did not notice any more—I went out of the house that night with one soldier, he is a married man, he is the one who lit the gas for me—I did not sea any more soldiers—I went to this beer-house to see my friend, Mrs. Perren, and
I went to the Barracks to see the steward's wife—I do not help Mrs. Glenn to draw the beer, this was the only time I helped her—I go there to see Mrs. Perren, and Mrs. Smith was a friend of mine—I am employed at laundry work every day at home; that I swear.
COURT. Q. When you saw the prisoner, had he a basket? A. Yes, over his shoulder, but I never saw the tool—he supported the basket over his shoulder by a cord, I think—I did not see the basket when he was in the kitchen—he had not got it with him then; he had left it somewhere—I did not see it again that night—I did not see this tool at any time.
EDWARD DIGHTON . I am a market gardener, and make the Grosvenor Arms beer-house my home—on September 23rd I arrived at home at 9.30—I entered the tap-room, and saw the prisoner and his wife there; he was standing, and she was sitting down; there did not appear much the matter with them then, but the woman was the worse for drink—she talked to him a little, but I do not remember what about—about 10 o'clock they went out of the tap-room together, and were at the bar together—I did not follow them, but I could see from the tap-room that the man knocked the woman down—I saw him knock her down with his fist—no one else was there at the time—I had not heard anything said by anybody, and I was near enough to hear if anybody had said anything to them—I was as near the bar as I am to you—I saw Mr. Glenn inside the bar, but he did not talk to them—Mrs. Glenn was in the kitchen—she went up to the deceased when she was knocked down, that the man should not hit her again—the deceased continued down for half an hour or twenty minutes, sitting on the ground where she fell—she asked for someone to pick her up, but I was afraid to go for fear the man should serve me the same—she stayed there a quarter of as hour or twenty minutes before she got up—she then got up of herself, and went out at the back door—the prisoner was there in the passage between the parlour and the back door, doing nothing—that was the way she would go she had to pass him, but there was room to pass without touching each other—after that I went to bed—as I passed the prisoner he was putting something in his pocket, a bit of iron or wood about twelve inches long—that was about two minutes after she had passed him—when he knocked her down he said that he had not done with her yet—I heard that distinctly—after that I heard nothing more till I heard Mr. Douglas's name mentioned in the middle of the night.
Cross-examined. Q. Where had you been? A. I had stopped and had some bread and cheese, and then came home—that is how I had been occupying my time since I left work—Mrs. Glenn was not in sight when I saw the blow struck which I speak of—she was in the kitchen and could not see from there—she came out directly after she heard the blow struck, through the bar, and interfered to protect her sister—Mr. Glenn was in the bar when the prisoner knocked his wife down, and could see it—I was afraid to pick her up, for fear he might serve me the same; it would be a rum job to be served like that—I went up to bed at 10.15—I had a pint of beer when I first went in, that was all I had that night—I came in about 9.30—I saw a bruise at that time under Mrs. Smith's right eye, but it had not turned black—I did not hear her say that Glenn had struck her that afternoon and given her a black eye—Smith did not hit her more than once in my presence—he hit her on the head—I did not see him kick her.
COURT. Q. Did you see any tool in his hand when he was at the bar? A. No, not before I passed him to go to bed.
WILLIAM KENNEY . I am coachman to Mr. Barber, who lives in the Bath Road, Hounslow—on 23rd September I was lodging at the Grosvenor Arms—I got home about 8.45 at night, went into the tap-room, and saw Mrs. Smith sitting on the settle on the right-hand side in the tap-room—she had a black eye—I cannot be certain which, but I believe it was the right—she was very drunk—she was sitting on a settle, a sort of fixed seat behind the door—she had her handkerchief up to her eye, and was crying—Mr. Glenn was in the room, and the prisoner and two or three soldiers—the prisoner and one of the soldiers were playing at skitties on the bagatelle board—I heard the prisoner's wife ask him if he would let her have some beer, and I believe he made her no answer—he did nothing to her while I was in the taproom—I stayed in the tap-room tin I went to bed, at about 9.30—the four soldiers had then left, and Mr. and Mrs. Glenn, and the prisoner and his wife, were all four standing at the bar—I did not hear anything till I got up stairs, but there was a bother among them all, I believe—I did not hear what was said, but there seemed to be a general quarrelling—I heard Mrs. Smith say, "I will go up stairs, and you sha'n't come up into my room," and she used very bad language—I had not heard anybody else say anything that I could distinguish before she said that—I did not hear anybody say anything afterwards, but I heard her halloa as she fell, I believe she fell down to the bottom of the stairs—I did not see her fall—I heard her run up three or four steps, and then heard a scuffle at the bottom of the stairs, and then she halloaed, and I heard the noise of a fall—I did nothing, I stayed in my room till the policeman came—I cannot say how soon he came, because I got into bed and dozed off to sleep—from the time she fell till the policeman came, Which was two hours, or two hours and a quarter, I did not hear any blow struck.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it almost before you got into bed that you heard the fell? A. Yes, I had only been a very few minutes in my room—she was very much intoxicated—I did not hear her using bad language in the tap-room—I do not recollect some beer being taken from her by Glenn.
COURT. Q. When you saw the prisoner in the tap-room did you observe that tool about him? A. No; I did not see it at all that night.
WILLIAM HOOPER (Police Sergeant T 38). About a quarter before mid-night, on 23rd September, I was on duty in High Street, Hounslow, and heard cries of "Police!" from the direction of the toll-bar—Mr. Glenn made a communication to me, and I proceeded with him towards his public-house—I went in first, and saw the deceased lying with her head and shoulders against the wall, and her feet at the foot of the stairs—she was dead—I felt her feet and hands—it was exactly 12 o'clock when I got to the house—I asked if anybody had gone for a doctor; I was told "No," and I sent for one—I asked who the party who had done it, and was directed to the cellar, by Mr. Glenn—as I went into the cellar I saw the Back door of the cellar being shut; I rushed out at the back door, and through into the garden, and, twenty or thirty yards up, I saw the prisoner getting over a fence into the main road—I caught him when he was half way over, and told him he was charged with causing the death of his; he said, "All right, I will go quietly with you"—I took him into the cellar—he said, "I have been away from home six weeks, looking for work; I came home to-night, and found my wife with some soldiers; she used bad language to me and ran away, and I got up to run after her; she was running up stairs; she had got up three or four steps, and I pulled her
backwards down stairs, and there I left her"—I left him in charge of another constable, and took charge of the body—Dr. Douglas came—I searched the promises next morning, and found this tool exactly where I had left the prisoner sitting in charge of the other constable, in the cellar,—the staircase is about 4ft. broad; it is not very steep—there are ten steps in the flight, which are about a foot wide—I have not measured them.
Cross-examined. Q. How long were you at the house that night? A. About an hour and a half—I made no search that night for any instrument—I searched next day, from what Mrs. Glenn told me in the morning—I heard nothing said about any tool on the night of the occurrence—Mrs. Glenn told me nothing that night about how it happened—she did not tell me Smith's account of the transaction, that he laid hold of her petticoats and pulled her back—she first mentioned about the tool about 1 o'clock next day—I did not see this basket anywhere in the house—I left Smith in charge of another constable, and they were there an hour and a half.
Q. You say this morning that he said, "I pulled her backwards down stairs"—did he say, "She got up three or four steps; I pulled her back, she fell down?" A. "I pulled her backwards, and there I left her"—this is my signature—I was examined the day after the occurrence, and the next day as well—my recollection was fresher then than it is now—there were no marks on the tool when I found it.
COURT. Q. Did Mrs. Glenn tell you that evening anything about his having knocked her down at the bar? A. No, I did not search the prisoner till he got to the station-house—when this instrument was produced before the Magistrate the prisoner interrupted and asked where the other tools were—I do not remember his saying, "I will take my solemn oath I never had that in my hand at the time"—I never heard him.
JOHN BROWN (Policeman A R 333). On Thursday, 23rd September, I went with Sergeant Hooper to the Grosvenor Arms—I got there about 12 o'clock, and saw a woman, apparently dead, at the foot of the stairs after I had been there some little time the sergeant brought the prisoner to me, and left him in my charge in the cellar—he said, in the cellar, "This is just what I thought it would come to before long, I have been out looking for work these four weeks; when I came home I found my wife with a soldier; I hit her in the eye, which was the cause of her having the black eye; as she was going up stairs she called me a b—sod, and said, 'I don't want you,' and I went up to her and said, 'Madam, what do you say? and I caught hold of her clothes, and pulled her backwards down stairs; I am very sorry for it"—That was all he said to me about it—we took him to the station in the night, after the doctor had been to see the body.
Cross-examined. Q. What light had you in the cellar, candle or gas? A. Gas—the prisoner was sitting on a hamper, and I was sitting on a stool, which they rest the beer taps on—there might be half a yard between us—I was half facing him—having him in my custody on a charge of killing his wife, I kept a pretty close eye on him, and I bolted the door—I saw nothing of this tool that night—I cannot say whether it was in his pocket.
COURT. Q. Might it have been in his pocket? A. I do not know (The clipper was again placed in one of the prisoner's pockets)—if it had been in that pocket I should have seen it; but if it had been in the pocket on the other side (the left) I should not.
MR. LITTLER. Q. If he had made any attempt to put his hands to
his pockets, should you have seen it? A. Yes—if he had tried to slip be behind him, or throw it away, I must have seen it—he might have dropped it on the shavings, without my hearing him drop it, if it was in his left-hand pocket—there were shavings—I was not there when it was found, next day—there was no blood on it—I was watching him, as my prisoner, and I think my attention would have been attracted, if he had put his hands to either of his pockets—he did not do so while he was in my charge—he said that he was very sorry for what he had done—I was present before the Coroner when Gant was examined, and Cornish also—Gant is one of the officers on duty in that parish, half a mile or three quarters of a mile off—I did not see anything of the tool basket.
JAMES RICHARD ALEXANDER DOUGLAS . I am a surgeon, of Honslow—on 23rd September, about 12.30, I was sent for by the police, to the Grosvenor Arms, Hounslow, and found a dead woman at the foot of the stairs—she had been dead, I suppose, some hours—the surface of the body was cold—I found severs bruises on the right arm and elbow, a bruise under the collar-bone, and a small, severe bruise on the temple; a black (right) eye, and a laceration of the eye-lid, not so recent; a bruise on the left elbow, and an injury to the left shoulder; but no bruise—next day, with assistance, I made a post-mortem examination—there was a blow on the head, which I had observed the night before; but she had a great quantity of hair—when I opened the head I found that the sutures were divided, and a large quantity of blood had escaped from a large blood vessel, which was lacerated, and was the cause of death—there was no external laceration opposite the fracture; but there was an extensive bruise—I have seen the instrument; it might produce what I saw; but it is not probable.
COURT Q. You do not think it probable that the bruise on the head which caused death was done by that instrument? A. No—I ascribe it to the fall down stairs—I negative this instrument being the cause of death—I was asked at Brentford, if such an instrument could cause it, and I said "Yes"—but in my judgment it did not—I consider that this extensive bruise was produced by falling down stairs.
MR. COOPER. Q. The head falling against what? A. Against a brick wall—I think that if she was going up stairs, in the state she was, the prisoner behind her, taking hold of her and palling her down stairs, would produce what I saw—(The COURT considered that the case now received itself into one of manslaughter only).
COURT. Q. Did you observe any mark about her which would indicate that he had struck her with that instrument anywhere? A. No, if he had struck her with that, it would be sure to have lacerated—I saw no marks of it—there was a mark on the forehead, but the skin was not cut, and this would have cut the skin.
MR. COOPER. Q. Is this staircase narrow? A. Very narrow and very steep—if she was up three stairs he might have been at the side, but if she was up five stairs she would have fallen against his breast—there was no means of his getting up by the side of her beyond three stairs—if she had gone up three stairs, he would have pulled her so that she would fail against the wall.
Cross-examined. Q. I presume the fact of her being in a state of intoxication would make her very easily fall, would it also make her fall with greater violence? A. She would not try to save herself if she was intoxicated and lost her balance—I have found fractured skulls from persons falling
from a very small height—they lose their balance and fall directly—the bruise on the eye was not so recent—it might have been produced the same day that she died, not longer before.
Q. You heard that he came home at 5, she died at 10 or 10.30; in your judgment, could it have been inflicted so recently as that? A. I am not sure that there were not two injuries to her eye—there was one which must have been inflicted before 5 o'clock—the bruises were all recent—it is possible that the bruise on the shoulder might have been received before 5—if she had been turned out by the shoulders any marks would be on the arms; these were not marks of fingers, but diffused bruises—a person turning her out of the house would be a very probable cause of them—the bruise on the collar bone was produced by a blow, it was an odd place to have a bruise—it might have been done before or after 5 o'clock.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you live in George's Place, Hounslow? A. Yes—I did not know much of the deceased—on Thursday morning, 23rd September, about 8 or 8.15, I saw her with two men, one was a soldier belonging to the 9th Lancers, at Hounslow, and the other appeared to be a carpenter or mason—she was quite sober.
JOSEPH GANT (Policeman A R). On 23rd September, about 20 minutes or 3.30 o'clock, Sarah Ann Smith came to my house without her bonnet—she was excited and very much in drink—she had a blow on the right cheek, below the eye—she told me who had ill-treated her, and said that she had been pushed out of the house—I observed no other marks about her.
MR. LITTLER stated that he could not resist a verdict of manslaughter— GUILTY of manslaughter under such provoking circumstances that the Jury re-commended the prisoner to the utmost mercy that could be given to him — Nine Months' Imprisonment
THIRD COURT, Thursday, October 28th, 1869.
Before the Common Serjeant.
MESSRS METCALFE and WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution; MR. STRAIGHT defended Craddock; MR. ST. AUBYN defended Raven and Day; and MR. F. H. LEWIS defended Foulkes.
CHARLES UNDERWOOD MOSELEY . I am manager of the Green Fruit Department of Messrs. Hanson & Son, of 47 and 20, Botolph Lane—I know a public-house called the White Hart, it is nearly opposite our house—in November last I received instructions from Mr. Reginald Hanson with reference to the Wite Hart, and I had a conversation with the prisoners, Raven, Foulkes, and Day—I told them Mr. Hanson had heard a very bad account of that house, and would not have any of the men in his employ go there, and if they did there would be instant dismissal—each man had to sign an agreement to that effect—Craddock was employed at No. 47, and he did not sign it—on the 16th September I was shown by the police 108 lemons—Raven, Foulkes, and Day were employed where the lemons were kept, and it was their duty to sort them out according to quality—on that morning I went to business at 8.45—I found the prisoners there—their
time was 7.45—they would have access to the lemons before I came—they are in the habit of wearing white smocks—on the 14th September I saw Foulkes come out of the White Hart in the middle of the day—I asked him why he had gone there, and I said, "You know the penalty for doing so and you must see Mr. Hanson"—he said he was very sorry for it.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. How long has Craddock been in Mr. Hanson's service? A. About ten years—there would not be any lemons kept at 47—No. 47 is about 70 yards from No. 20—if the men came and asked me for a few specked fruit, at times they are allowed to have some—there is a man working in No. 20, something like Craddock, but you can easily tell one from the other.
Cross-examined by MR. ST. AUBYN. Q. How long has Day been in Mr. Hanson's service? A. Over twenty years—he has borne a good character—Raven has been a regular man for four or five years, and odd man some time before—on the morning in question Raven had been employed white-washing the ceilings—he had not been employed in shifting lemons for some time.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. How long has Foulkes been in year employment? A. About ten or twelve years—he did not assist in shifting the lemons, but had access to them—there was a staff of twenty men, and they all would have access to them—I had threatened to report Foulkes to Mr. Hanson before he said he was sorry for it.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Had Cradlook any business at 47? A. Actually no business—he had the power to go if he liked.
MR. STRAIGHTM. Q. Did not Craddock bring the dust down to 47? A. The dust came down to 47 in the morning, but I do not know whether Craddock brought it.
WILLIAM BALDWIN (City Policeman 737). I was instructed, with Latter, to watch the White Hart, and commenced to do so on the 7th September, at 8 o'clock in the morning—I saw Foulkes and Craddock go into the White Hart—they had white smocks on, and seemed hulky about the chest—they remained about three minutes, and when they came out their smocks seemed looser—Craddock went towards Billingsgate, and Foulkes went into No, 20—on the following morning I saw Craddock and Day go to the White Hart—their smocks appeared bulky, also Foulkes and Raven, and some of the other men from the warehouse—on the 9th I saw Day, Fonlkes, and Raven come out separately from No. 20, and go to the White Hart—their smocks looked bulky, and when they came out they were looser—Day went in twice that morning—on the 16th I was there, but I was not in a position to see anyone go into the White Hart—about 8.30 I heard a cry of "Stop thief?" and I went to the entrance of the White Hart, and saw Threadgold, another officer, with two baskets, which contained 180 lemons—I then went across to Messrs. Hanson's, and the foreman, at my request, Called up all the men, and Threadgold picked out Haven. Foulkes, and Day—they are the men I had seen go across on the 7th, 8th, and 9th—Craddock afterwards came in, and I identified him—I have known him for years, and 1 am sure he is the man—I said they would be charged with stealing lemons, and taking them to the White Hart—each of them said they knew nothing about it, and had not been to the White Hart—they made the same statement at the police-station.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. You have known Craddock for some years, has he always borne an honest character? A. For anything I know—the White Hart lies back in a passage, out of Botolph Lane.
Cross-examined by prisoner. MR. LEWIS. Q. Were you put here to detect? A. I was put to watch—I suspected the prisoners had something wrong about them—I did not take them, because my object was to get the receiver—I have not got him.
EDWARD LATTER (City Policeman). I commenced watching with the last witness on the 7th—I saw Day and Craddock go to the White Hart—their smocks were bulky when they went in, and slack when they came out—on the 8th I saw all four prisoners come from No. 20, and go to the White Hart—they remained a short time—their smocks were different when they came out—when they went in they held their smocks so as to prevent any-thing dropping down—on the 9th I saw Raven, Foulkes, and Day go in the same way—their smocks were in the same state—on the 10th I saw Foulkes and Day go to the public-house—their smocks were in the same state—on the 14th I saw Raven, Foulkes, and Day go in, and on the 15th I saw all four go in—their smocks were in the same state, and they were holding their hands in the same way—they went in separately, and remained only a few minutes—on coming out Craddock went to 47, and the other three to No. 20—I have seen another man at the White Hart frequently—Threaded described to me the man he found with the baskets, and that description corresponds with the man I saw there—I saw him go in and out on each of these days—he appeared to be loitering about—I have known Craddock five or six years, and I am quite sure he is the man I saw.
Cross-examined by prisoner. MR. STRAIGHT. Q. How long were you watching altogether? A. About seven days—I took notes at the time—I believe Messrs. Hanson employ a large number of men, and they most of them wear smocks.
Cross-examined by prisoner. MR. LEWIS. Q. Where were you watching? A. in Lower Thames Street—I was sometimes about three or four yards from Baldwin.
JAMES THREADGOLD (Policeman 759). About 8 o'clock on the morning of the 14th of September, I went to the White Hart, in plain clothes—Day came in—his smock appeared very big about the chest—a tall man came in and spoke to him—they went into a room adjoining that in which I was—afterwards the tall man come into my room and took a basket from a form—he was not one of Messrs. Hanson's men—he went book to when Day was, and from there to the bar, when Day had something to drink—his smock appeared quite loose—on the 15th I saw Day and the tall man go into the side room—Day's smock was very full, and the tall man fetched the hamper, and from where I was, and afterwards, I heard a noise as if something was rolling into it—there was a short man with the tall one—the tall man told the short one to fetch the hamper into the bar—it bad ft lid on and I could not see what was inside—Day went out and returned in five or six minutes, and his smock was then quite bulky—the tall man met him in the passage, and said, "Go into the boiling room"—that is the place where the hamper had been taken to previously—Day went in and remained about half a minute—when he returned his smock was quite loose—when he came in I could see he had something underneath his smock of the shape of lemons—I was about three yards from him—on the second day Craddock came in—he was very bulky—he spoke to the tall man, who pointed to the boiling room—Craddock went in, and the tall man stood at the door—after a minute he came out, and his smock was loose—I heard money pass between Day and the tall man—on the Wednesday Raven came in, bulky,
and spoke to the tall man, who told him to go into the boiling-room—he went, and remained about a minute—when be came out he was not bulky—on Thursday, about 8 o'clock, I went to the White Hart—the tall man was standing against the counter—Raven came in, looking very bulky—the tall man spoke to him, and he went into the boiling-room—when he came out he was quite slack—he called for a pint of ale, and left—Foulkes not came in—he came up the passage, with his hands in front, as if holding some weight up—above his hands he appeared quite bulky—the till man met him in the passage, and they both went into the boiling-room—when they came out Foulkes's smock was quite loose—I could see when he came in bulky that it was something of a round substance—I also saw Day speaking to the tall man in the passage—the short man brought two baskets out of the boiling-room, and the tall man, who was in the passage, said, "Come on; now is the time"—a policeman in uniform appeared outside, and he said, "Go back, go back"—afterwards he said, "All right, come on," and the short man went out with the two baskets of lemons, and I ran and Mind him in the passage—I told him I should take him into custody—he flung the baskets down and struggled with me—he got away—the tall oat ran away when he saw me seize the short one—I cried, "Stop thief's" and Baldwin and another officer came in—the lemons were laying about in the passage.
Cross-examined by prisoner. MR. STRAIGHT. Q. How long were you watching? A. Three mornings—I was in the tap-room—there was another person with me, who is a witness to-day—I remained about half an hour each morning—I believe every facility was given to-search Craddock's premises.
Cross-examined by prisoner. MR. ST. AUBYN. Q. What sort of room is this boiling-room? A. An out-house, about two or tares yards from the bar—I did not search the zoom after Day left, because I wanted to capture the receiver—I could not tell what these round protuberances were.
Cross-examined by prisoner. MR. LEWIS. Q. How far were you from the boiling-room? A. About nine or ten yards—it is a place where they boil shell-fish in—I could not see into the room—the reason I did not go in when the men were there was because I did not think I should be able to hold the two—I had got further assistance; but it was not there at the time—I can swear what the men had under their smocks was of a hard substance, and in the shape of lemons.
WILLIAM MOORE . I am a labourer—I was employed to assist in watching at the White Hart, with Threadgold—on the 14th I saw the basket fetched out of the room in which I was, by the tall man, and taken into the next room—I saw Day go in very bulky, and when he came out, his smock was loose—on the 15th I saw Day come in the same state—the basket was again fetched, and taken into the next room, and I heard something rolling into it—it sounded like potatoes or lemons—afterwards Raven and Foulkes came in, and spoke to the tall man at the bar—they were bulky—Day came in a second time—on the 16th, Day was at the bar with the tall man, and I saw the tall man change a florin, and pass a piece of silver to Day, while I was getting a pint of porter—after that the short man went out with the baskets, and Threadgold tried to stop him; but hs got away—the tall man was at the bottom of the passage—I did not see Craddock on these three days.
Cross-examined by prisoner. MR. ST. AUBYN. Q. How came you to be employed on this business? A. I was asked to take a basket for Threadgold; and when I was going there, ho asked me to take notice of the persons
with the white smocks on—I never did anything of the sort before—I do not know who the receiver was—he was a tall man—I had not went him before, and have not since.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Were you in the same room as Threadgold? A. I was; but in a different position—the basket I took was a herring basket, and it made me appear as a hawker.
CRADDOCK, RAVEN, and FOULKES received good character.
NOT GUILTY .
940. ARTHUR FRAY (14), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 30l., and ENOCH FRAY (42) , to receiving 7l., of the same, well knowing it to have been stolen. ARTHUR FRAY also PLEADED GUILTY to stealing the sum of 1l. 19s. 7 1/2 d.; and ENOCH FRAY and ARTHUR FRAY further PLEADED GUILTY to conspiring to procure for Arthur Fray employment as errand boy, in the service of divers persons, to enable him to steal, take, and carry away their goods.[See next trial for punishments.]
941. ARTHUR FRAY was farther indicted for stealing one coat, two waistcoats, three pairs of boots, and other articles, the property of James Bland Fretwell; and WILLIAM FRAY (16) , for receiving the same, well knowing them to be stolen.
ARTHUR FRAY PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BLAND FRETWELL . I am a collector, in the service of Messrs. Dyson & Son, of 60, Pitfield Street—Arthur Fray came into our service as Errand-boy on the 26th April, under the name of Arthur Freeman—I had a bed-room on the basement, and in that room was a coat, two waistcoats, three pairs of boots, four brushes, and other articles—between 1 and 2, on the 19th July, Arthur Fray left without notice, and did not return—these things produced were taken away, and are my property.
EDWARD JAMES MORGAN . I am assistant to Mr. Bateman, a pawnbroker—I produce a sheet and a waistcoat, which the prosecutor has identified—I have the ticket in reference to that pawning, which took place on the 19th July—they were pawned by William Fray.
THEODORE NEWTON . I am assistant to Mr. Gush, of 48, Stanhope Street, pawnbroker—I produce a coat and waistcoat, and the tickets in reference to them—they were pawned on the 19th July, also a pair of boots pawned on the 21st July, and another on the same day—the tickets I have correspond with those in the hands of the officer.
ENOCH EMERY . I am a City detective—on the 15th September, I went to a room at 17, Newcastle Street, Strand, and found the two prisoners there—I searched the room, and found four brushes, which I have shown to Mr. Fretwell—I took William Fray into custody, and amongst seventeen duplicates I took from him, I found four relating to property which Mr. Fretwell identified.
WILLIAM FRAY— GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
ENOCH FRAY—GUILTY— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
ARTHUR FRAY—GUILTY— Three Months' Imprisonment, and Five Years' in a Reformatory.
MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence. (After the prisoner had been given in charge of the Jury, he wished to with-draws
his plea of Not Guilty, and PLEAD GUILTY to this, and third marriage, and a verdict of GUILTY was taken. He also confessed to having then convicted of felony in the City of Dublin, on the 9th November, 1867.)— Two Years' Imprisonment
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the
ANDERS HAUSSON . I live at 27, Princes Square, Shadwell—on the 29th August, I was a seaman on board the John Goods—about 4 o'clock that morning I was called to go on deck—I saw Keith, the mate, there, and he asked me whose "Wheel" it was—I said it was "Jack's wheel"—Jack is a boy on board—the prisoner was there, and he asked if I was not going to the wheel—I said, "It is not my wheel"—he said, "If you don't go to the wheel I will kick you there?—I said I did not want any kicking, and would go there without—he wanted to fight me, I said I did not want to fight, and went aft—I said; "It looks like as if you will be master of the ship"—as I was walking aft, cutting a piece of tobacco with my knife, I heard somebody behind me, and en turning round saw the prisoner—he said, "Don't show the knife to me, because I am not frightened of it"—I said, "I do not want you to be frightened with my knife, and neither with my fiats"—I put my knife in my sheath, and turned round to go to relieve the wheel; and he commenced striking me on the head with his fists—I turned round, and he stabbed me in the throat with a knife—he stabbed me upwards like that (describing)—I had a thick comforter on, and the knife went through that—my throat bled much—I did not take out my knife—I had no struggle with him, and did not strike him in any way—I went to the captain, and the steward dressed the wound—this occurred about three weeks' sail from land.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first see that gentleman who has been called the Interpreter? A. I do not know exactly—perhaps I saw him before I went to the Police Court—it is not true that after some words between me and the prisoner, I drew my knife—I am quite sure I did not strike or struggle with him—I never touched him.
MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. Did you see the Interpreter before or after you had been before the Magistrate? A. I think after—I do not know exactly.
COURT. Q. Did you go with him to the Police Court? A. No—I went by myself—I did not have an Interpreter then.
JOHN FAULKNER . I was a sailor on board the John Goode—I recollect the last witness being called, at 4 o'clock in the morning of the 29th August, to relieve the wheel—I went on board with him, and the prisoner was there, he was kicking up a row because we were not quick enough—I heard him say to Hausson, "If you do not go to the wheel I will kick you there"—Hausson said he would go without kicking, and was going when the prisoner went after him, and struck him twice with his fiat, which made his nose bleed, and then he struck him in the throat with his knife—Hausson did not strike the prisoner at all—the prisoner cleaned the Wood off his knife and put it back in his sheath.
REUBEN COWELL . I am captain of the John Geode—about 4.25 on the morning of the 29th August, Hausson came down to my cabin, crying out, "Jem has cut my throat"—he seemed very frightened, and went on his knees, and began to say his prayers—I called the chief officer and steward,
and we dressed the wound, which was about five-eighths of an inch long—he spat up some blood.
Cross-examined. Q. When did the vessel arrive at Gravesend? A. About a fortnight or three weeks after—is arrived in London on the 17th September, and I think it was three days after that when we went before the Magistrate.
COURT. Q. How long was he ill? A. It was six and a half days before he came Out.
DANIEL GARDNER . I was a seaman on board the John Goode—on the morning in question I was on the poop, coiling ropes—I saw the prisoner go after Hausson, and when they came to the main hatch I heard Hausson say, "Mind, I don't want to fight," and the prisoner said, "I want to fight" Hausson was cutting a piece of tobacco, and he put his knife in the sheath—Hausson turned round, and said, "Jem has cut my throat"—I saw the prisoner do it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear the prisoner say to Hausson, "If you use a knife I mutt defend myself? A. No.
(MR. STRAIGHT proposed to put in the depositions of the first and second mate, both of whom had given evidence before the Magistrate in favour of the prisoner; but who had now gone to sea. The COURT ruled that they were not admissible.)
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
MARIA CHAPMAN . I am servant to Mr. Daniel, of 61, Bishopsgate Street—he deals with Mr. Higdon, the baker—on Saturday, 25th September, I paid the prisoner 2s. 5 1/2 d., and I saw him write the word "Paid" on this bill (produced)—I paid that on account of Mr. Higdon.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you ever fetch the bread? A. No.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you deal with Mr. Higdon before the prisoner was in his service. A' Yes, a great many years—I did not go out of town in September—I have not a little girl that I sometimes send for bread—I have not missed seeing the prisoner more than three days during six weeks—I did not require a receipt from him.
MARGARET JONES . I live at 13, Artillery Lane, Bishopsgate—Ideal with Mr. Higdon—the prisoner has served me with bread for about six weeks—I produce the book in which ho entered the bread he left—on the 25th September I paid him all I owed.
Cross-examined. Q. You have dealt with Mr. Higdon longer than five weeks? A. Yes, eight years—I cannot say what I paid him on the 25th, but whatever is down there I paid—I have no recollection except what is in the book—I could not trust my memory.
MR. COLLINS. Q. Do you remember the prisoner signing that book when you paid the money? A. Yes.
ROBERT HIGDON . I am a baker, at 185, Bishopsgate Street, Without—the prisoner was in my employment six weeks and three days, up to the 25th September, when he left without giving notice—it was his duty to carry out bread, and to receive the money from the customers, and to pay it to me at night, or the first thing in the morning—he has never accounted
to me for 2s. 5 1/2 d. received from Maria Chapman, 4s. 10 1/2 d. received from Harriett Carter, nor 14s. received from Margaret Jones—he made an excuse for Harriett Carter not paying, saying she was in the country—I have my books here.
Cross-examined. Q. You have been in business a great many years? A. Yes—I have about forty out of door customers—the prisoner told me he came from the country—he slept below the bakehouse—he commenced at 4 a.m. and left off at 7 p.m.—I had to complain to him about his keeping late hours—and also about the time he took in going his rounds—I did not tell him he might go if he could not do better than that—I have the book here in which I entered the cash—the 14s. is not entered that was received from Mrs. Jones on the 25th September—on the 17th September there is 1l. 2s., and on the 29th, 1l. 17s. 6d.—when he paid the money to me, I made entries on separate pieces of paper, but I never kept them—there are two other persons employed by me—he would sometimes account to them for money received from Mrs. Jones only.
Cross-examined. Q. When he did pay you sometimes, did you take any account of it? A. I put it all on the mantelpiece—I cannot tell how many times I have received money from Mrs. Jones—the sum of 14s. was not paid to me.
JOSEPH WILLIAM FAWKE (city Detective) On the 5th October I took prisoner into custody on Finsbury Pavement—I told him I was a police officer—I asked him his name, he said it was Cooper—I asked him if he worked in London, he said, no, he had never worked in London—I said, "I believe you have, and that you used to work in Bishopsgate Street"—he said, "No, I never worked in Bishopsgate Street in my life"—he afterwards said he had worked at Mr. Wilson's, in Fore Street—on taking him to Bishopsgate Street station, we passed Mr. Higdon's shop, and he said. "This is the place where I worked, and this is the place I have robbed"—I said "I thought I was right," and I told him I should charge him with embezzling various sums of money, and he made no reply—at the statics I searched him, and found these bills, and two duplicates.
Cross-examined. Q. Was anyone with you when you met the prisoner? A. No, but there was someone with him—he is outside—he may have heard some of the conversation—I had another constable with me when I was taking him to Bishopsgate-street—he is not here—most likely he heard what was said—I said, "I thought I was right" at the Police Court, but it is not in the depositions—I have not read them recently.
Witness for the Defence.
JOHN PIGOTT . I was with the prisoner in Finsbury when Fawke spoke to him—he asked him whether his name was John Harrison, and he said no, his name was Pigott—I did not hear any other name mentioned—the officer then asked him to go with him to Moor Lane station—when there the officer asked the prisoner if he had worked in Bishopsgate Street, and he said no, but that he had worked for Mr. Willson, in Fore Street—I was present when they passed Mr. Higdon's shop, and the prisoner said, "That
is the shop where I lived"—I am sure he did not say "And the place I have robbed"—I have known him from a child, and he has always been an honest hardworking young man.
Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. A barman—I have left my situation seven weeks—I last lived with Mr. Morton, at the Five Bells, close to Moorgate Street station—I was there six months—the prisoner has been staying with his sister, but he slept with me the night previous to the day he was taken—I live at 67, Whitfield Street, Tottenham Court Road—I cannot say how many nights he has slept with me—I was turned away from the Five Bells because my master promised me a holiday, and when I went home at night he would not let me stay.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Four Months' Imprisonment.
JOSEPH VINSTENCE (Policeman Y 144). About 4 o'clock, on the morning of the 25th September, I was on duty in Crouch End, Hornsey—I saw the prisoner with an umbrella in his hand—I wished him "Good morning;" but having some suspicion, I pushed against him, when I heard something jingle in his pocket—I asked what it was, and he said, "What it that to do with you?"—I took him to the police-station, Highgate, and searched him—I found two sets of silver castors, six silver spoons, two pencil cases, a gold watch, a lady's card-case, and a knife with a broken blade—on his person were three coats, two pairs of trowsers, and a table cover round his neck—I gave the knife with the broken blade, to John Harrison.
Prisoner. Q. Did I not ask you the way to Camden Town? A. Yes—you were not intoxicated.
JOHN HARRISON (Police Sergeant Y 27). On the morning of the 25th September, about 6.30, I visited Mr. Webster's house, No. 1, West Field Villas, Hornsey—that is about a mile and a half from Crouch End—I found the house had been broken into, and I called up the prosecutor—a panel had been cut out of a door leading to the kitchen—the scullery window had been forced open—in the door I found a piece of the blade of a knife, which corresponded with that which the last witness gave me.
REV. THOMAS CALTHORP WEBSTER . I am a clerk in holy orders, and live at 1, Westfield Villas, Hornsey—about 11 o'clock, on the night of the 24th September, I went over my house, and looked all up—the scullery door and the place where the panel has been cut out were all safe—I was called up by Sergeant Harrison, and found the scullery window bad been forced open—these things found upon the prisoner are all mine.
The prisoner, in his defence, said he had been drinking, and went to sleep in a shed, and when he awoke he found the things.
GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, October 28th, 1869.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
946. JAMES WORTLEY (28) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a pair of trowsers, of George Hill; and also to forging two orders for the delivery of goods, with intent the defraud, having been before convicted in February,
1866.**— Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude.
947. THOMAS CLARK (19) , to stealing a watch and chain of Charles Davey, and to burglariously breaking and entering the house of Charles Davey, and stealing 5l— Two Years' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
948. GEORGE ALDERSON (30) , to three indictments for embezzling and stealing various sums of money, of James Hicks Hetley, his master— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. COLLINS conducted the Protection.
EDWARD COLBUTT . I live at Cable Street, and am a labourer—on 23rd September I saw the prisoner and prosecutor in Wells Street, opposite the Sailors' Home—they were hating a row—they were both on the flags—the prisoner was on the top of Allandale—he struck him two or three blows, and I, with the assistance of two other men, separated then)—Allandale said he did not want to fight any more—the prisoner rushed at him, knocked him down, and bit his underneath lip right off—I picked the lip up, and gave the prisoner in charge—I think he was under the influence of liquor.
THOMAS HOSFORD . I am house-surgeon at the London Hospital—on 23rd September, Allandale was brought there—he had a lacerated wound on the lip—the lower lip had evidently been torn away—I drew the edges together, but he will always have a contracted Up—it was about an inch and a half long, exposing the gums and teeth.
THOMAS BARNBS (Policeman H 10). On 23rd September, the prisoner was given into my custody—he said he knew nothing about it—he was not drunk—the prosecutor was the worse for drink—he is gone to sea in the George Thompson.
Prisoner's Defence. We were having a fight, and fall down—Allandale's mouth was against mine, and I bit him' by the lip—I did not what I was doing.
GUILTY —Five Years Penal Servitude.
MR. HUNT conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BROWN (Police Sergeant T 18). On 1st October, from information I received, I went to the Fulham Workhouse—inquest was held there on the body of a newly-born female child—I afterwards went into the infirmary of the workhouse and saw the prisoner—I told her she must-consider herself a prisoner, for concealing the birth of her female child—I told her I should go and search her box, to see if I could find any linen, or to see if any provision had been made—she said, It is no use for you to go there, you will find nothing."
CAROLINE AMELIA BEAN . I am the wife of Alfred Beau, and live at Brookland House, New Road, Hammersmith—the prisoner was in my service as cook—I thought she appeared pregnant, and taxed her wild it she denied it, and said she was suffering from a female complaint—on 30th September she became very unwell—I advised her to go to bed, and went up to see her—I then taxed her with having been delivered of a child—she told me she had been—I asked her where it was—she said it was not in the room, it was in the cellar—and it was found there afterwards.
GUILTY— Judgment Respited.
MR. TURNER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLE the Defence.
JOHN DODGE . I live at 29, Trafalgar Road, Old Kent Road, and am a warehouseman—on 5th October, about 9.30, I was in Covent Garden, nearly opposite Garrick Street—it was very dark—as I was going along I received a blow in the face, and immediately felt a hand going over my waistcoat—I caught hold of it and said, "You have robbed me of my pin"—I then received a second blow—I called out "Police I"—I received another blow, which closed my eyes—they were very bard blows—I thought they wire given with some heavy instrument—we struggled across the road down Garrick Street—I held the man all the time—I then saw it was the prisoner—just before I gave him into custody he gave me a severe blow—I let him go for a moment, but ran after him and caught him again—I took him about 100 yards altogether—I never lost sight of him for a moment, except when I closed my eyes—I had a pin in my scarf at the time he came up—I missed that afterwards—I saw it again at the Police Court—it was shown to me by a policeman—it was worth about 2l. 10s.—I was dreadfully hurt with the blows, and was bleeding.
Cross-examined. Q. What time did you leave your employment? A. About 6 o'clock—I then went to buy some china—and after that I went to Covent Garden, to see the proprietor of a public-house—I had two glasses of sherry and water while I was out—I was at the public-house about I quarter of an hour—I only had two glasses of sherry and water, from the time I went out till 9.30—I was perfectly sober—the blows were very bird—I did not see any instrument—I had just come from the public-house.
JAMES HEMMINGS . I am a tailor, at 65, St. Martin's Lane—I was in Garrick Street, on 5th October, about 9.15—I saw the prisoner and Dodgs struggling together—Dodge held the prisoner till a policeman came up—I saw the prisoner hit Dodge on the nose, and his face was smothered with blood directly—I interfered, and helped to hold the prisoner till a policeman came—I went to the station—just as he was going into the door of the station he threw something away—a boy picked it up and gave it to me—it was this pin (produced)
Cross-examined. Q. You had not known the prisoner before? A. No—there were a lot of people there at the time—twenty, I dare say—they did not interfere—they seemed afraid to touch him.
JOHN EDWARDS . I live at 60, Field Street, Soho—on 5th October I was in Bow Street, near the police-station—I saw the prisoner taken to the station—as he was going in, he threw something away; I picked it up, and found it was this pin.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment and Twenty-five Lashes with the Cat.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. METCALFE, COLB, AND DOUGLAS, defended the Prisoners.
WILLIAM WICKE . I live at 5, Morant Street, Poplar—on 4th October, about 11.30, I went to a public-house kept by Mr. Adams—I don't know the sign—I had been there before—about 12 o'clock I was talking to Hey
and Jackson—Jackson told me that I had struck his foot—I said I was very sorry—he then threw me down on the floor—I said it was very fine that men should throw me down like that—he gave me no answer, and then he said, "Never mind, let us have a glass of ale"—I said, "No, I do not want to drink any more, I will go home "as I was going to the door Jackson ran after me, and held my arms while Hoy took my things away from me—they took my watch and chain, a look at and a key, and 1l. 16s. 7d.—I got up again—the publican was there all the time, and saw the things taken from me—the girl in the bar saw it all, too—I was not drunk, I knew all about it—when I went in, Mr. Adams, the landlord, asked me to leave my watch with him, but I would not—I mid I was only going to Morant Street, and no one would steal it in the street—there were several persons in the bar when this happened—I knew Hoy before this.
THE COURT, having referred look depositions, was of opinion that the case was too slight to go to the Jury, at she prosecutor's things went afterwards returned to him, and it seemed to have been don't for a joke.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday, October 29th, 1869.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
953. ARTHUR BROWNE (30), was indicted for feloniously causing to be received by Thomas James Arnold, Esq, a letter, threatening to kill and murder him, well knowing the contents of the said letter. Other Counts—For demanding money with menaces, and for uttering.
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
THOMAS JAMES ARNOLD, ESQ . I am one of the Metropolitan Magistrates at Westminster Police' Court—on 1st June last I received this letter (produced) at my Court—Realf; "Sir,—My object in sending you this letter is to put you upon your guard, and avert mischief. You have, some years ago, iniquitously and most unjustly condemned to a very heavy fine a very innocent youth; this was on a pretence of drunkenness, though at the evidence proved that he had not been drinking. Through this condemnation he lost a very profitable employment he had at the time, and has ever since been in difficulties, of which he is tired, and he has, therefore, taken the resolution of having his revenge upon' you, the cause of them. Yes, he is decided to have your life, unless you give him a fair compensation for all the trouble he has had through your injustice. My utmost has been done to calm him, and make him give up the idea of murder, but all has been in vain. To-morrow he is to leave for London, and if, in the course of next week, he does not find in one of the numbers of the Standard newspaper an advertisement headed 'Compensation,' intimating your intention of giving damages for all he has suffered through your injustice, be has taken the catch that next Sunday you shall be dead. For your sake, then, heed this notice; save yourself by giving the justly-demanded compensation, or otherwise be will commit the deed. He is tired of the iniquities life your condemnation has made his, and would prefer death. Suicide is a crime, he has often told me, but he would one day die by the hangman's help, and quite delighted to be revenged, and to have made you suffer for your base injustice. I willingly would give you my name, to prove the sincerity of the notice, but your past behaviour to my friend shows you to be a dishonest old rascal, and I fear that if I did sign in name you would in a blackguardly
guardly mannor, through foul means, use it to bring me before men of high authority, and oblige me to betray my friend that you may have him arrested and locked up, that you may save your mean self without giving any compention for your base injustice. I, therefore, will end, and add that if you wish to live longer, the best is to give the said advertisement in the newspaper mentioned, and act fairly, without any treacherous, hidden intention, for which you would soon after suffer either directly or indirectly by the hands of your victim or of some of his friends, amongst whom is Your Forewarner, again advising you for your sake to notice this letter,' In consequence of that, I communicated with the police, and on the following day, 2nd June, by my direction, an advertisement was put in the Everything; Standard—this is a copy of it (Read: "Compensation.—Threats are quite unavailing, though if the facts are as stated, something perhaps might he done. What is asked?"—That appeared in the Evening Standard—on the 5th June, I received this letter, dated the 4th:—"Sir. This morning I have received a letter from the young man in whose behalf I have seat you my last, a also a number of the Evening Standard of the 2nd inst, the advertisement in which delighted me, in shewing that you are willing to compromise the matter in a friendly and honorable manner, which will prevent any unnecessary crime. My friend also expresses his satisfaction at hit finding it is thus. All facts are as stated in my last, but he thinks, that if you want convincing proofs to that effect, an interview would be more convenient. His financial less, all included, at the time of its occurrence, amounted to between: 20l. and 25l., besides the other damage he went through. At present, he is in very reduced circumstances, out of which, by a sum of 8l. to 10l., he could disentangle himself, and get in a position to earn respectably some money; a retribution to that amount, then, would satisfy him, for which, besides, he would ever be grateful, since it would put him in a situation to earn respectably his life, the only thing he longs for. Should you be willing to come to his terms, without further delay or intercourse, or should ye prefer an interview, to have convincing proofs of the veracity of the stated facts, please to let him know it by another advertisement, headed "Compensation," given before long in another number of the tame newspaper; and in the former instance you shall be respectfully informed where to forward the said retribution, while in the second, my friend should wait upon you at the place and at the time appointed in the advertisement. He begged of me, in his letter, to send you all these particulars, because he told me he felt too nervous to write directly to you himself. I trust you will, in the present, find nothing offensive, and hoping that the friendly feelings, which at present seem to actuate you, shall not have altered at your reception of it. I conclude with the hope, that he and my friend, at present enemies, shall one day be good friends; and that then you will know who has been the party, who at present sending you his compliments, has taken the responsibility of Intervener in this matter,"—I received that also at my Court—the post-mark to both, is Jersey—I looked at the handwriting of the two letters, with a view of comparing them, and I have no doubt they arc in the same handwriting—on 12th June, I caused another advertisement to be inserted in the Evening Standard—this is it (Read: "Compensation. Facts should be given; an interview as suggested seems desirable, or references, will be at Freemason's Tavern, Great Queen Street, at 5.30 P.M., Wednesday next")—I next received this letter, with the post-master of
Jorney, 13th June—(Read: "Sir. I have yesterday received a letter from the friend in whose name I have written; be expresses his surprise at seeing no reply in any number of the Evening Standard of this week, and damands me whether I have written to you according to his wish this week, or if I have sent ye my name and address, and received a direct reply. As this has not been the case, I beg of you on receiving the present to give without delay, in the newspaper, one of the replies demanded through my last letter, or if you find too high the damages demanded, through what ye offer. I would be sorry to see this other week pass on without a reply, became in suck a case I fear, from the content of the letter received as aforesaid, some mischief. If you have lost memory of the letter received by you on Monday last, I hope this one will refresh your memory. Compensation,' ye must not forget, is to be the heading of the advertisement, whatever may be the main part of it With complements, and the hope that this affair shall soon come to an end, believe me, air, yours; obediently, The Peacemaker")—I have no doubt that letter is in the same writing as the others—it was contained in this buff or brown envelope—on 16th June I caused another advertisement to be inserted in the Evening Standard, of which this is a copy (Read: "Compensation. The appointment for the 16th instant is unavoidably postponed to the same time and place, Thursday, 17th instant")—On the 17th I went to the Freemasons' Tavern, between 5 or 6 clock in the afternoon, with Inspector Humphreys—I waited them some hours—no one came—I heard nothing more of the matter until 2 received a communication from Inspector Humphreys on the evening of the 27th September, at my house—on the afternoon of the next day I received this letter at the Police Court, it bears the London pott-mark of September 28th—it came in this buff envelope, which seems to be of the same fabric as the other, and I have no doubt the handwriting is the sane as the other—I believe it to be the same handwriting, although I think the three former letters are in a disguised hand—I judge of that entirely from the appearance of the handwriting—(Read: "6, Hawthorndean Place, Weft India Dock Road, Limehouse, 28th September, 1869. Mr. Browne presents his compliments to Mr. Arnold, and as he solicits the favour of a interview about a meet pressing particular business, either at the Freemason's. Tavern, Great Queen Street, or at Mr. Arnold's private residence, to begs of him to let him know which place, time, or day, would be most convenient to him. Should Mr. Arnold prefer the interview to take place at his own private residence, Mr. Browne begs of him to kindly forward him his address")—I have no recollection of ever seeing the prisoner until I saw him at the Police Court on 29th September.
Cross-examined. Q. With regard to the two first letters the handwriting is entirely unknown to you? A. Quite so—I gave them to Inspector Humphreys.
MR. BESUELY. Q. Look at that manuscript; do you recollect the prisoner putting that in as his handwriting? A. When he was before Mr. Selfe he handed up this paper and said that that was his handwriting.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Have you instituted any comparison between this and the letters? A. Yes, I have read them end looked at them together—I still believe them all to be in the same handwriting—there is a general similarity of character, and a peculiar way of dividing some of the syllables.
o'clock, the prisoner came to the clerk's office window at the Court, and inquired for Mr. Arnold's private residence—I told him I did not know it—he he Said he had received a letter from Mr. Arnold for an appointment at the Freemasons' Tavern, but he had lost the address—I told him that I did not know Mr. Arnold's private residence, but the messenger did, and I heard it was about four miles from the Court—I then asked if he had private business with Mr. Arnold—he said he had—I told him it would be as well for him to come next morning about 10.15, as he would see Mr. Arnold before he went into Court, in his private room—he said, "Would 10 o'clock do?"—I said it would—he said, as ho lived a long way off, if he wrote a letter to the Court, would that do?—I said, "Yes; a letter would find him between 10 and 5 o'clock"—he then left—next day a letter did come for Mr. Arnold, and was given to him.
Cross-examined. Q. He was quiet and civil in hit demeanour to you? A. Yes, very; he apologized for giving me so much trouble, and wished me "Goodnight"—I understood him that he had lost the letter containing Mr. Arnold's address.
MR. ARNOLD (re-examined). I never wrote a letter to the prisoner.
GEORGE JOSH. HUMPHREYS (Police Inspector). I received some information on Wednesday night, 28th September, in consequence of which I went to No 6, Hawthorne Place, Limehouse, about 10 o'clock—I had seen the letter of the 28th, with that address—I found the prisoner there, in bed and asleep—from what I heard I did not wake him—I left Constable Upson there in charge—I looked about the room in the presence of the landlady, and in a box there I found a quantity of writings, amongst others the manuscript produced—it is a portion of a dictionary—I also found in the same box two copies of the Evening Standard newspaper of June 12th and 16th, each of which contain the advertisement headed "Compensation," one making the appointment and the other postponing it—they were the only two copies of the Standard I found in the box—I also found in the box about a dozen of. these buff envelopes, of the same size and character as those containing the letter—I went again to the house, about 9.30 next morning, and then found the prisoner up and dressed—I told him that I should have to take aim, into custody for sending threatening letters to the Magistrate—he asked to. go upstairs—he was in the kitchen at the time—I went up with him into his room, where I had left him asleep the night before—he then opened his box, and I took first a small piece of paper—he said, "That is in my handwriting"—I said, "Well, I will take charge, of this"—he said, "You had better take more," and he gave me this portion of a dictionary which I have produced—he said, "That is in my handwriting, also"—I then left the house with him—on the way to the Court, he said, "I did not write the threatening letters to the Magistrate, the reason I wrote that letter to Mr. Arnold, was to tell him not to fear"—he afterwards. said, "About ten years ago I was fined about 16l. by Mr. Arnold"—after that he said that he had been writing a dictionary, and he had a great desire to publish it—he had paid, I think he said, a portion to a publisher, and he wanted some 10l. or 20l. more before the publisher would take it in hand—he said the man that wrote the threatening letters resided at Pleasance Cottage, Jersey, and his name was Jackson—he was taken before the Magistrate the same morning and remanded, and eight days afterwards he was brought up for re-examination—I had in the meantime been to Jersey to find Mr. Jackson—I found Pleasance Cottage, Mr. Jackson was
not there, but he had resided there, and he is here—while waiting to go before the Magistrate on the re-examination, the prisoner called roe to him, and said, "I have written to Jersey to find Mr. Jackson, and I have received an answer that he has left the Island, and that he was a bankrupt, to I have been unable to find him, or I would hare bad him here to-day"—Mr. Jackson was standing by his side at that time.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it before he saw Mr. Jackson that he said that to you? A. I am not sure that he had seen him—I afterwards saw a second Mr. Jackson—the prisoner had a fit on the first examination, and the proceedings were adjourned in consequence—I was in Jersey two days on the first occasion—I only found one Pleasance Cottage; the direction the prisoner gave to me was Pleasance Cottage, Pleasance Steps; I found that and did not look for another—I saw the prisoner's father, he is a Major on half-pay, I believe.
MARY DE LA RUE . I reside at 6, Hawthorndean plate, Limehouse—the prisoner lodged there with me—he had formerly lived with me in Jersey: he had been with us there six years last August—he was living there in May and June last; be left Jersey on the 15th September last, his father lives there.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner living six years in your house? A. Yes, boarding and lodging with us—I am an acquaintance of his father's—he is subject to epileptic fits—they are sometimes very severe, and often leave him prostrate for along time—I know he was engaged in preparing a dictionary for publication—he came to London with us; I came to reside here, and he came to reside with me—I don't know that the publication of his work had anything to do with his corning—he did not tell mo anything about it—I came over here on account of my marrying a petson who lived here, and whose business called him hero, an if the prisoner came with us; having these fits, be wanted someone to mind him—I know be intended to nave his boot published here, and that he had written to some publishers—he has been writing it ever since he has been with us—he is a very inoffensive person, and of studious and literary habits—these buff envelopes are very common in Jersey, I have seen them in a great many shops—I hate seen the prisoner's handwriting—I very seldom went to his father's house—I know be sometimes took in the Evening Standard, he taken in different paper—I suppose the prisoner would have an opportunity of seeing them; he used to go to see hi father—(looking at the first letter) I don't know this writing—I could not know it for the prisoner's—I don't think it is his—I certainty would not say it was his—I would not know this at all for his, handwriting—I would rather say it was not, than that it was—I have frequently seen him write—he used to write in his room all day long—I had spoken to him of coming to London some weeks before I left Jersey, not months.
MR. POLAND. Q. Have you no belief in whose writing that letter is? A. No—(looking at the letter of 28th September) this one I know—that is the prisoner's handwriting—the inside looks more like his handwriting than the other, but not so much as the envelope; I know the envelope better than I do the inside—I am not so positive to that, but the envelope I know—I don't know this one of 13th June, so well as the last, it is more like, it but that one I know best of all—I won't say it is in the prisoner's writing, I have no belief about it—it does not look like his—I don't know this one of
4th June—I don't know it for his at all—it does not look like his—the envelope of the 28th is the only one I can be positive to.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Look at the inside? A. I have, but do not know the handwriting to be so certain of it as the envelope—I see it is dated from where I am living—I could not be positive to its being the prisoner's writing—it is more like his than the others—I know a Mr. Jackson, a school-master, of Lamotte Street, Jersey—and I know Mr. Jackson, of Pleasaunce Cottage—I don't know of any other.
JOHN JACKSON . I now live at Castle-end Farm, Thorpe, Surrey—I formerly lived at Pleasaunce Cottage, Pleasaunce Steps, Jersey—I was living there on 26th September, 1868—none of these letters are in my writing, I have no knowledge whatever about them—I never knew or saw the prisoner in Jersey to my Knowledge.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe the prisoner said in your presence, as soon as he saw you, "The Jackson I refer to is a schoolmaster?" A. Yes, that was before the Magistrate—he said the Mr. Jackson he meant lived in Lamotte Street.
JOHN JACKSON . I reside at 32, Lamotte Street, Jersey—I have lived there twenty-seven or twenty-eight years—I am a native of Jersey—I keep a boarding and day school—in 1866 I advertised for An assistant, and the prisoner came to me with testimonials—he was at my school for about a week—he had a fit, and I sent him home—about last Christmas he called on me with respect to a dictionary that he was writing, and asked me if I would subscribe—I said no, I would have nothing at all to do with him; and I have never seen him since—I believe his father lives in Jersey—I know nothing of these letters—they were not written by me or by my authority—I am about 6ft. in height.
Cross-examined. Q. It was solely in consequence of the fit that the; prisoner left you? A. Yes—I have one son, twenty-five years of age, he is living on the islands—he is a medical man, and superintendent of a lunatic asylum.
MR. POLAND. Q. Are these your son's writing? A. No.
JOHN MARSHALL . In 1859 I was sergeant and acting inspector at the Chelsea station—in July, that year, the prisoner was charged, before Mr. Arnold, by the name of Robinson, with three assaults, and with being drunk—he was fined 5l. for each assault, and 1l. expenses—the prisoner is the man—I entered the charge at the station, and gave evidence before Mr. Arnold.
CHARLES CHABOT . I am a lithographer, and carry on business at 25, Southampton Row, Russell Square—I have for some years made handwriting a study—I have looked at the letter of 28th September (No. 4), and the envelope, and have carefully compared it with the other three—I have not the least doubt that they are all in the same handwriting—I have examined this portion of a dictionary with the admitted letters, and with the anonymous letters, and they are all in one handwriting—I am perfectly satisfied of it, without any doubt in the world—I can give very clear reasons for that opinion, if necessary.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you have given evidence in the Divorce Court and other Courts, on several occasions? A. Yes—it is very rarely indeed that one expert will flatly contradict another, only in cases of great difficulty, not in such a case as this, where there is plenty of evidence,
and plenty of material—it happened that I have been called and given an opinion, and another expert has given one directly the opposite—that is a very rare case—experts do not differ nearly so often as other professional men—I daresay it has happened two or three times to myself—I should say three times was quite the extent in twelve or fifteen years—these letters were first shown to me on Tuesday last, the three letters were put into my hands and another letter—the three were pointed out to me is being anonymous letters—and I was asked if the writing of No. 4 was the same—I was told what the person was charged with, and I knew I was to be called on the part of the Crown, to give evidence against him—I should like to give one or two of my reasons.
MR. POLAND. Q. State them? A. I would first observe that the dictions any is all written on blue lines, regularly ruled at equal distances—the admitted letter is on plain paper, but written at exactly similar distance apart—then again the paper is exactly of the same quality, and it is a peculiar quality—in the admitted letters the small letter "r" is made in three different ways, and a Very peculiar formation terminates the words—that peculiar formation is not found in the beginning or middle of words—that formation occurs plentifully in the 1 first letter, three times in the second, and only once in the third—if a person disguises his hand, he of course intends to form all his letters differently; but if he writes much, his peculiar habit will come out, and can be detected—there is a similar peculiarity in the letter "d," M where the habit betrays itself—again in the letter "e," in the word "Magistrate," on the admitted envelope; also in the words "the" and "private"—the capital "H" is made in a very peculiar maker, and it frequently occurs, both in the admitted letters and the others, and also in the manuscript—I have never seen an "H" made in that way-before—the capital "M" is also peculiar—that is very little disgated, just sufficient to deceive those who cannot see beneath the surface of these thing again, the anonymous letters are punctuated, showing them to be written by a person of some education—taking all the things together, I have no doubt as to their being all written by the same person.
The Prisoner's statement before the Mcyutrava read at follow. "All I have to say is that I never had any feeling against Mr. Arnold. What gave so the idea of writing to him on the 28th was to obtain an interview with him, and to ask him if he remembered this occurrence of June, and he was not to be frightened; and I wanted to show him the papers I had that brought the circumstances to my mind, to refresh his memory, and to toll him to take no notice of these threatening letters, since I had nothing to do with them, and if he could not find the true author of them, he or I had been chaffed; but not being able to find his private address, I came here and sought an interview with him, that I might expose, my mode of living, and having no weapons I intended no harm; besides which, I could have given him references to show I was not a man of a revengeful disposition; instead of receiving a reply I was taken up and charged, for wishing to relieve Mr. Arnold's mind. Yesterday week I wanted to explain all this to Mr. Arnold, but I was seized with a fit, and the consequence is I have been locked up a week, not knowing I could have bail, which bail I could have procured if I had been conscious when I was thrust into the prison-van, and taken to gaol"—(The Prisoner took the envelopes and letters produced, and says, "They are not Mr. Jackson's writing at all, they have been humbugged."
GUILTY— Judgment Respited
954. LOUIS SAUMADE (59) , Feloniously sending, on 6th February, letter to Charles Ochse, threatening to murder him. Second Count—Demanding money, with menaces, without any reasonable and probable cause.
MR. POLAND. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS
CHARLES OCHSE . I am a fancy goods dealer, of 166, Piccadilly—I have been a little over four years in the country—before that I lived at Paris, and had some business transactions with the prisoner there—he lives on big income—I know his writing—in February last I received this letter by post, at Piccadilly, in this envelope—it is signed by the prisoner—the signature only is his—(The letter was translated by an interpreter as follows, "Great thief. Before killing thee I give thee fair warning. Boulevard, Montmartre, Saumade")—that is his address in Paris—on 30th April I received this other letter—the signature only is by the prisoner (Transmitted: "Paris, April 30, 1869. Great thief. If thou wilt not send me some money I will threaten thee")—that letter was brought to me by a gentleman—I had not seen the prisoner between the two letters—about 30th September, it was four weeks last Wednesday, I was in my parlour, and he came into the shop—my wife would not let me go out—she went out and spoke to him (I had last seen him in England about a year and ten month ago)—a constable was sent for, and he was given in custody—I cannot say what day that was, but it was about two hours before I went to the Police Court—I only came out of the parlour when the constable was there, after my wife had given the prisoner in charge.
Cross-examined. Q. Under what name do you carry on business? A. Bernstein Ochse—my name is Charles Ochse—I have known the defendant six or seven years—money has passed between us, going and corning—I do not know if I owe him anything yet—I am morally indebted to him at the present moment—I had business transactions with him, and I failed—he was a creditor, and my books were offered back to me by the official assignee, which I considered as a discharge—he deposited with me a sum of 2500 francs, Italian Stock, and I returned him 1800 francs—the rest pasted in business—this (produced) is my writing—as my books were given back, I cannot say whether the money paused in business, and whether I an not his creditor—I have got my discharge—I have very often expressed my regret that I have not paid him—that is four years ago—it is over four years since I left Paris—I left of my own accord—I owed money when I left—it could nut be so much as 276,000 francs—that was the reason I left—I was not tired of Paris, that I know of—I was not tried, and sentenced to four years' imprisonment, par contumacy that I know of—this is the first time I have heard of it—I do not know that I was tried as a fraudulent bankrupt—I carried on business at 32, Rue Vivienne—I understand the French language—this copy of the "Gazette des Tribune" (produced) refers to me—this is the first time I have heard of my being sentenced to two years' imprisonment—I have not, that I know of, been cross-examined lately in reference to this very fact—I know Mr. Lewis, who is sitting next to you—I have been examined in a Reference going on at the present moment, and I gave the same evidence—I may have been asked whether I was tried, in my absence, for fraudulent bankruptcy, and I gave the same
mater; I said that never heard of it—I have never been a fraudulent bankrupt—Mr. Lewis said, "Have you ever been tried?" and I said, "No, sir"—if he put the question whether I had ever been charged as a fraudulent bankrupt, I told him not to my knowledge; but I cannot say if he did or not—the body of these letters is not In the prisoner's writting—he can read, certainly, for I remember he always read the receipts over-five or six years ago, to my knowledge he read receipts over; but he could only write Was name—he has lived at that address at Paris for many years—this is October, and I have not been over to Paris to take any steps—I was last in Paris a little over four years ago—I never had occasion to go back them.
MR. POLAND. Q. You were in pecuniary difficulties in Paris, and came over to England? A. Yes.
ROSALIE OCHSE . I am the wife of the last witness—the prisoner came to the shop on the day he was taken, and wanted to see my husband—I told him he would, not see him, as he had written him threatening letters, to kill him—I begged him to leave the shop, and said that what he wanted he could tell me, as I would not let, him see my husband if he stopped all day—he would not go—I tried to take him by the arm and push him out, but I could not—I told the shopman to fetch a policeman, which he did, and then my husband came out of the parlour and gave him in custody-spoke in French, as be can joint speak English—I told him at the police-station, at the inspector's request, that he was taken in charge was writing threatening letters to my husband, to get money and to murder him—he said, "I sent those letters because he will not give me any money"—I had seen him in our house about a year and nine months before.
Cross-examined. Q. Where is this business carried on? A. In Piccadilly, just opposite Bond Street—it is for fancy goods, and gloves for ladies and gentlemen—we get some of our goods from Paris—I have not been to Paris for twelve months—I have not lived in the Rue Vivienne—I have only been married four years—the shop is carried on in the name of Bernstein Ochse—my name was Bernstein before I was married—the prisoner was not very long in the shop, only while I spoke to him to leave, and while the policeman came—he wanted to come into the house, but I would not let him—my husband was iu the book parlour, with the door shut—the prisoner waited till the policeman came—he would not leave.
MR. POLAND. Q. Did you tell your shopman to go for a constable in English or French? A. In English, I think—I saw that theirs was something heavy in the prisoner's pocket.
SIMON CARPENTER (Policeman G 81). I was sent for to the prosecutor's shop—I forget the date, but the prisoner was taken before the Magistrate the same day—I did not search him—he was taken to the House of Detention the same day that he was taken up.
JOHN HALL . I am sub-warder in the House of Detention—the prisoner was brought there on Wednesday, 29th September—I searched him, and found on him a six-chamber revolver, with five chambers loaded with powder and ball—the Governor drew the charges.
MR. WILLIAMS contended that the second Count could not be sustead, as the prisoner did not demand the money without a reasonable and probable. THE COURT considered this objection to be a good one, and therefore directed the Jury to confine fair attention to mercy first Count.
GUILTY on the first Count. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of the provocation, and of his not understanding English law sufficientally — Judgment Respited.
MR. POLAND offered no evidence— NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, October 29th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
BERNARD JAMES O'CONNOR . I am foreman to Messrs. Cooper &Co., warehousemen, of Duck's Foot Lane—Mr. Smith sometimes does carting for the firm—on the 31st August, he was engaged in carting wool from Duck's Foot Lane to Dowgate Dock—the prisoner had charge of a van and two horses—the first load consisted of twenty-five bales—I was present when the van was loaded—that load left about 9.30—I saw the carter's delivery ticket given to the prisoner, and he drove away—he came back for a second load about 11 or 12 o'clock—I saw the carter's ticket given him, and he went away—he returned about I o'clock with his van empty—I saw the van loaded the third time with twenty-five Tiles—I have the descriptions of the bales here—they were all marked—he left with that load about 2.30, and he ought to have returned about 4 o'clock—he did not return then—I next saw Vim about 7.15, at the corner of Duck's Foot Lane, along with our clerk and foreman.
Cross-examined. Q. How far is it from your premises to the place where this wool had to be taken? A. About 150 yards—the prisoner has very often carted things for us, and there has never been anything wrong before—the carter's note is sometimes put in one of the bales—he gives the note up with the goods, when he delivers them—they keep it as a voucher.
ARTHUR POLLETT . I am clerk to James Graves & Co., Free Trade Wharf, Upper Thames Street—on the 31st August we were receiving wool from Cooper Co.—it was my duty to receive the carter's notes in reaped of each load—I produce two carters notes signed by me—I received eleven notes altogether—I have been over the wool—I was supplied with the number of twenty-five bales by the last witness—all the wool is in Grates & Co.'s possession, except those twenty-five bales.
Cross-examined. Q. Who brought up these delivery notes? A. Various Men—I examine every bale—we had twenty or thirty men in our employ at that time—there was nothing else but wool received that day.
CHARLES DICEY . I was engaged on the 31st August in unloading the vans which came with wool to the Dowgate Dock—the vans drive along-side the, warehouses, and the loads are hoisted out with a crane—I saw the prisoner come with his first load about 10.30—he gave me a ticket of each load, and I gave it to the last witness—he came with his second load between 12 and 1, which I unloaded—he did not come with another load.
Cross-examined. Q. You were very busy, were you not? A. I was receiving loads all day long—I received eleven loads of wool instead of twelve—the carmen have to hook on the bales.
JOHN JORPON . I am in the service of Mr. Smith, at carman—on the 31st August I took four loads of wool to the Dowgate Dock—I followed the prisoner each time—I saw him start with his first two loads, and between
2 and 3 o'clock he left with his third load—I left about half au hour afterwards, but when I got to Dowgate Dock I did not see the prisoner nor his van there.
Cross-examined. Q. You sometimes have to wait for the van in front to go on? A. Yes.
JAMES DICE (Police Sergeant 15). On the 6th September Mr. Smith gave the prisoner into my charge for stealing twenty-five bales of wool, of the value of 300l.—the prisoner said, "I received the wool in Duck's Foot Lane, and delivered it here," pointing to Dowgate Dock—at the police-station, he said, "I discharged my load of wool. I put my van in Queenhithe, and went into a coffee-shop at the corner of Garlick Hill, and went to sleep for about five hours."
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose You did not take down the exact words he made use? A. No.
He was further charged with having been previously convicted on the 7th November, 1864, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Judgment Respited.
MR. HUNT conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY — Two Years Imprisonment.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
Prisoner. Q. When you paid me that 38s., did I not give you regular official receipts, to the value of 38s.? A. Yes.
Prisoner. Q. Did you have receipts for the exact amount? A. Yes—I did not see that you took them out of the receipt-book.
Prisoner. Q. Are these regular official receipts? A. Yes—I think I saw you tear them out of your receipt-book.
JOHN STUART CROSBIE MORRIS . I am proprietor of the Business Directory of London, and carry on business at 4, Moorgate Street Buildings—the prisoner has been in my employ as canvasser, for a little over two years—his wages were originally 30s. a week, with 2d. in the shilling upon these class of payments—there was a similar commission upon all books and advertisements—the commissions upon advertisements were to be paid in a manner specially laid down, and one of the clauses in the form of application which the prisoner filled up is, "All amounts collected must be paid into the office upon the settlement after collection, and in cases where the canvasser has not brought enough money with him to square up completely, and correct
any errors that may have been discovered in previous accounts, he will receive no work and no pay until he does square up"—the prisoner came into my employ upon that understanding—afterwards I altered his salary to 50s. a week, with 6s. for lodging-money, and no commission, and if I felt extra satisfied with him and felt inclined to make him a present, I might do so but there was to be no claim beyond, and he was to settle up every week in the same way as before—during that year I made him a present of about 7l., extra beyond the money that he was entitled to; but taking the whole body of canvassers, I found they had done about half the amount of work, and I thought it advisable to alter the terms again, which I did—I made a third arrangement, viz., that they should receive 15s. a week, and 2 1/2 d. in the shilling commission, and on all moneys they collected they were to take the commission from it, and send me the difference—after that, on the 29th June, I put up, voluntarily, a memorandum, in my office, that the following canvassers, on account of their long services, would receive 3d. instead of 2 1/2 d.—during the present year the prisoner has been receiving 15s. a week, and a commission of from 16 to 25 per cent.—the moneys are accounted for in the manner set out in this document (produced)—the numbers here ought to tally with the counterfoil of the receipt-book, consequently, it is impossible to miss a number if you look carefully into the receipt book—it was his duty, specially enjoined upon him, if he had any deductions of any sort or kind to make, to do so when he accounted to me—I made a communication to him in March, in consequence of his being behind hand in a sum of 9l., and he gave me as a reason for that, his family difficulties—that the lady he called his wife, and his children were ill—he so worked upon my feeling that I accepted it as a civil debt, and he gave me an I O U for the amount, which from time to time he has paid off a portion of it—he has at times exerted himself rather more than was customary for men to do, and upon those occasions I have sent him, in one case, 7l., and another 5l.—he never, until this charge was preferred against him, made any claim against me for 39l. 16s. 9d., or of any other kind—he has never told me I owed him that amount for revising sheets—I have not received the sums mentioned in this indictment, viz., 1l. 18s., 18s., and 16s.—I have carefully examined the sheets, referring to the dates on which they were paid—he has never accounted to me for them—during the present year he has paid me large sums of money, but he has never made any counter charge against me—there was a settlement on the 28th July, 4th August, the 7th August, the 14th and 23rd, the 2nd and 10th September.
Prisoner. Q. Do you remember sending me down some sheets for revision and correction? A. Yes—they were sent at your request—I kept you down at Manchester to correct them, partly because you were settled there, and it was your duty to correct them—when I engage a canvasser I expect him to work eight hours a day, as stated in the form of application—I know you did not work till 2 in the morning because you could only do that work out of doors and during daylight—I should expect a memorandum of corrections to be made in the street—I would not give a fig for any memorandum that was not made at the time—the I O U for 9l. was composed of the price of a lot of Manchester directories—they were debited to you, and you acknowledged the receipt of them—I think there was a dispute about a couple of books—I do not know anything about a dispute for twenty-one books—Mr. Paris, my managing-clerk, is not here, but I can send for him—I sent you the 5l. immediately before you commenced
reading these sheets—I have not, the letter here, in which I sent the 5l., but I have your answer—(The letter was read, in which the prisoner acknowledged the receipt of the 5l. as a substantial and, handsome gift. The I O U was also read, as follows: "Memorandum of books due from Robert Laing. Cash received from Messrs, Heywood for six books, 3l., sixteen copies for which I am accountable, and for ten of which I have received the cash already, 6l. 6s. 8d. I O U the above nine pounds six shillings and eight pence. Robert Laing."
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. In the course of the last twelve months what amount has he received? A. From, the day he came into my service he has received at the rate of 153l. a year.
CHARLES MORRIS . I am brother of the last witness—on the 10th September, I remember going over a list of unpaid accounts with the prisoner—I called his attention to Messrs. Johnson's, of Basinghall Street, and he. said he had not received it in consequence of not being able to see the right party, who he believed was out of town—he had stated that to me on a previous occasion—I ran down several other sums, including that of Messrs, Griessellch & Domeier, and he said they were unsettled—he has not accounted to me for those sums, neither has he ever intimated to me that he had received them—I remember his being taken into custody, I was, standing on the door-step as he left, and he said, "Oh, Mr. Charles, do speak for me to your brother"—I said I could not, and he continued, "You can have the money to-morrow"—I shook my head, and declined to interfere at all—I believe I said it had gone too far.
Prisoner. Q. Did I say you might have the money to-morrow, or that I would settle with you to-morrow? A. You said, "You can have the money. to morrow"—I have frequently told you that you had too much uncollected, and you have always said you tried to get them in.
THOMAS HURST (Policeman S 62). About 5.30 p.m., on 16th September, I was called to Mr. Morris's office, and the prisoner was given into my custody for embezzling three sums of money, viz. 18s., 38s., and 16s.—the prisoner said if Mr. Morris would wait till to-morrow he would compromise it—he was sorry, and it had all happened through a hole in his pocket—he put his hand in his trowsers pocket—I examined the hole and it appeared to be a very old one—at the station he stated Mr. Morris owed him some money—Mr. Morris denied that, and the prisoner said he could prove it.
Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I have received altogether the sum of 11l. 17s. 9d., after allowing for my commission; that is belonging to Mr. Morris; against which I have a contra claim for work done, outlay out of pocket, and commissions due on various advertisements, amounting to 39l. 1s. 6d. A few weeks ago I lost about 8l. out of my pocket, through a hole. Mr. Morris requested me to bring my family to London, for which purpose I took the temporary use of 2l. 5s. I also sent my wife 1l., in stamps, which was lost. I had no intention of defrauding Mr. Morris.
The prisoner, in his defence, repeated the above statement, and stated that he had a claim against Mr. Morris for extra work, amounting to between 40l. and 50l.; and that the amounts mentioned in the indictment had been paid to Mr. Morris, though not in the names of the parties who originally paid him.
MR. JAMES JOSEPH CLIFTON , a clerk in the employ of Messrs. Esdailes & Co., stated that the prisoner was formerly in their service, as collector, that he had defrauded them of a sum of 50l. in a similar way, and stated that he had lost it through a hole in his pocket.— Five Years Penal Servitude.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BROMBY the Defence.
BENJAMIN BURMAN . I am a fishmonger, and live at King's Cross—about 6 a.m., on the 12th October, I was at Billingsgate Market—I had a pony and barrow, which I left on Fish Street Hill—I bought three pads of mackerel at Billingsgate, one of which I put on the barrow—the other two were to follow—my brother spoke to me, and I went to the barrow about 8.10, and found the pad gone—it contained about ninety fish.
Cross-examined. Q. Fish Street Hill is a place where there are a lot of people about at that time in the morning? A. Yes, lots of barrows and people.
JOHN BOARDMAN . I am a cart minder, and live at 17, Upper Hall Street—about 8.30, a.m., on the 12th October, I was on Fish Street Hill—I saw the prisoner, another man, a woman, and a boy there, with a barrow—the prisoner was pointed out to me six weeks previously—I saw him go to prosecutor's barrow and take a pad of mackerel, and throw it quickly into his own barrow, and then walk away very fast, the man shoving the barrow and the prisoner following—I could not follow, as I had a great many carts to mind; but I gave information to the police—I am sure the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. How far were you off? A. About twenty yards—I could see them quite clearly—I have never gone by any other name, and have never been sentenced to imprisonment nor penal servitude—I have been threatened by the prisoner's companions that my life is to be taken—I deny, upon my oath, that I have been ever sentenced to three years penal servitude—I do not know a Mr. Osborne, a milkman, at Clerkenwell.
MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. Was the prisoner, at the Police Court, represented by a solicitor? A. Yes—he asked me the same questions, and afterwards came and apologized to me, and said he was very sorry.
WILLIAM WILSON (Policeman C 167). I have known the prisoner about six weeks—on the 12th October I was on duty in Golden Lane—about 9 a.m. the prisoner said to me, "If you wait half a minute, I will show you some fine mackerel"—he had a pad of mackerel on a barrow—he cut it open with a knife, and took out two or three, and said, "They are very fine ones;" I said, "Yes, they look very fine."
EZEKIEL LAW (Policeman C 151). I apprehended the prisoner on the morning of the 12th October, in Golden Lane—he had a barrow, with some mackerel laid out on a board—I charged him with stealing them, and he said, "I bought them"—I took him to the station, and found on him 10s. 3 1/2 d.
Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I bought the mackerel in lots, and paid for them, and my wife was present when I bought them."
PLEADED GUILTY— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
FOURTH COURT, Friday, October 29th, 1869.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. TURNER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BROMBY the Defence.
THOMAS MORGAN . I am a sea cook, and live at 33, Belgrave Street, Rateliffe—I returned from a voyage on 27th September last—about 3 o'clock in, the afternoon, I was in the East India Road; as I got to Belgrava Street, a man, who I know now to be Dunkin, came up and asked the way to the Mile End Road—I pointed it out to him, and he said he was a perfect stranger in London, that he had just arrived from New York, and he was looking about the suburbs of London—we had some more conversation, and he walked up Belgrave Street with me—after we had walked a little way, Ball rushed past us, and his pocket-book fell on the pavement—I picked it up, and sung out, "Friend, you have dropped your pocket-book," and ran after him—he turned round, and said, "I do not know how I can repay you and your friend; I will give you a 5l. note each for your honesty"—Dunkin said, "It does not belong to me; this gentleman, a stranger to me, picked it up; you might have lost the pocket-book and the, contents," and then he said, "What might the contents be?—Ball pulled the strap off, and showed me a great many notes, or what appeared to be notes—I declined the 5l. note—we walked on, and Ball said he was a gentleman, from Devonshire, and had an estate there, and he was sorry I could not go down to have some. time with him—I thanked him, and said I should soon have to go to sea—Ball said he had to go on the continent the next day, on business—he said he had come up to London on a point of law, that he had seen his solicitor, and had gained the case, and that an uncle had died, and left several thousand pounds to be distributed to the poor of different districts, and he should like to find trustworthy men to do the great work he had in handy—he also said that he had already given away a considerable sum to some clergymen, to be distributed to the poor, and if any person could show him 200l., he would give them another 200l. to distribute—Dunkin said, immediately, "Could you produce 100l.?"—I said, "Well, I have not got it upon me; but no doubt I could get it"—Ball said, "If any person could show him. 100l., he would give them 200l. to distribute—Dunkin said, could show it, and I said I could—Dunkin then promised to show 200l., and he was to receive 400l. for the poor of Coventry—I do take an interest in the welfare of the poor myself and have laboured hard as a temperance man—Ball then said that I was to meet Dunkin at the London Hospital, at 12 o'clock the next day, and then meet him at some hotel in London, at 1 o'clock, and Dunkin told me to, be punctual in meeting him—I went home, and went to Mr. Williams, a ship owner, and asked him to lend me 100l. and he gave me a crossed cheque—I was to return it the same evening or the next morning—I went on the following day to the London Hospital, and met Dunkin there—he asked if I had got the money—I said I had got part of it—he said, "Can you get, 50l.?"—I said, "Yes"—he then said, "I will lend you another fifty; and when we have seen the gentleman, and shown him the 100l., you can easily pass it to me, and he will be none the wiser for it"—he went away, and we were to meet again, in a quarter of an hour, with the 50l.—I had spoken to a detective before this—I did not see Ball there while I was talking to Dunkin, and I did not see a man named Jones.
Cross-examined. Q. When you first met Dunkin and Ball did not you go to a public-house? A. Yes—I had a glass of lemonade—I am a teetotaller—I will swear I had nothing to drink besides lemonade.
—Dunkin joined him and shook hands with him—they walked down the front of the hospital, in conversation—I have known Dunkin for some few years—I saw a man named Jones on the opposite side of the way, and I had seen Ball in a beer-shop opposite the hospital, at the same time that Dunkin was with Morgan—Ball came out and walked down the road, and turned up North Street—I then lost sight of the prosecutor, but I saw Dunkin cross the road and join Jones—they walked up the road, and went towards where Ball was standing—I followed—Ball saw me, and went down North Street again—I sent a constable after him, and I stopped Dunkin and Jones—Ball was taken into custody and brought back—I took Dunkin and Jones to the station—Jones was discharged at the Police Court because Morgan could not identify him in the transaction.
JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a merchant and ship owner, and live at 5, Mercer's Place, Stepney—I know Morgan very well, and have known him since 1867—he has been very active for many years as a temperance advocate—on the 27th September, between 7 and 8 in the evening, he came to me for 100l., and I lent him a crossed cheque for that amount—he would not tell me anything more than he had met with a friend, and that if he could show 100l., to prove that he was a respectable man, he would get 200l. to distribute amongst the poor, and my cheque would be returned again the next day—I was not satisfied, and communicated with the police.
Cross-examined. Q. You say the prosecutor told you that he was not going to part with the cheque? A. No, only to show it, and I gave it to him upon that condition—it was a crossed cheque, and would have to be paid through a banker.
GUILTY — Two Year's Imprisonment.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
ANN TAYLOR . I live with my aunt, Mrs. Hilton, at 12, Hawkins Street, Mile End Road—on 29th July last, I saw Berry at my aunt's house—he came up to the window and spoke to her—he said he could get her a nice gold chain, that it was in pawn for 3l. 5s., and she could have it for 3l. 10s.—Eigley then came in, and Berry said he would send his man for it—I went with Eigley by omnibus for some distance—he went to a pawnbroker's, and left me outside the door—I don't know what street it was—when he came out he put a chain round my neck, and said "There is a nice thick chain"—we then went back to my aunt's house—Berry was not there then—Eigley and I went in, and Berry came in two or three minutes after—he took the chain off my neck and put it round his own, saying it was larger than the one he had sold before—aunt then gave him 3l. in his hand, and I went out to get change for a sovereign, to give him 10s.—it was to be 3l. 10s.—the chain was to be bought forme—I paid for it with my own money—they went away then—I saw Berry a few days after, at my aunt's window again; he said "Don't get lumbering that chain, for it was nicked out of Hatton Garden"—my aunt said she did not want the chain owned directly she got it, and asked him to give me the money bock, and take the chain—he said we should not get any money out of him and he went away—the chain was put away—I saw him at the house
some time after, and aunt asked him if he would come to an agreement, and he said "No"—I took the chain to Mr. Adley's, in the Mile End Road, and he began to laugh, and said it was nothing but a brass chain—the 3l. 10s. was mine—I had been saving it up—I parted with my money because he said it was a nice chain—I should not have parted with the 3l. 10s. if it had been a brass chain—I thought it was a gold one.
Cross-examined. Q. Where is your aunt? A. She is an invalid, and could not come—she was not before the Magistrate—she has broken her knee cap, and has erysipelas—she did not go to the pawnbroker's I went—she was on the sofa in the parlour when the men spoke to her—she was at the Potion Court about a fortnight before this matter, but the Magistrate had to go out to speak to her—I got this money by saving it up for a year and a half—it was in a box in the house—there is a lodger in the house—I don't know what she does, her husband is a seafaring man, I believe—I am fifteen years old—I never knew of any complaints against the house—I never tried to pawn the chain at all—I went and asked Mr. Adley whether he would lend me 4l. on it and he laughed and said he would lend me under 2l. 10s.—I did that to see whether it was a good one—Berry was in the room when I went back, he said "Take it to Mr. Powell's—I took it there, and he said it was a solid brass one, worth about 9d.—I knew Berry by sight when he came to the house—this is the chain (produced.)
MR. MOODY. Q. Did you take it to Mr. Powell's after you had been to Mr. Adley's? A. Yes—Berry told me to take it there after I told him what Adley had said—he was gone when I came back from Mr. Powell's.
MARY TOFTS . I am servant to Mrs. Hilton—on 29th July I saw the prisoners at her house—I did not hear the conversation—I saw this chain in the hands of the last witness, when she came back from that pawnshop—I saw Mrs. Hilton give Berry 3l. 10s. but Ann Taylor went for change for a sovereign first—when she returned she gave two half soveraigns to her aunt, and one of them was given to Berry.
Cross-examined. Q. Where did the aunt fetch the money from? A. I don't know—I suppose she took it from her pocket—Mrs. Hilton, held the chain up and said, "It looks a nice chain"—it was afterwards locked away in a desk—it was the girl's money that she had been saving up from childhood—I have been at the house since the 8th April, and I am still there—it has been a brothel, but it is redeeming its character now—there are two lodgers in the house—it is not a brothel now—Mrs. Hilton keeps the house, and has been in it for fifteen years—I occupy the front part of the house—I act as servant and housekeeper for Mrs. Hilton—there is a person up stairs occupying furnished apartments—her husband is a sea-faring man—I have never seen him—there are only five rooms in the house.
JAMES BRIDEN (Police Detective R). On 17th September, I took Berry into custody and charged him with obtaining 3l. 10s. by false pretences—he said, "Oh, I can settle that if you take me to Mrs. Hilton's"—I took him there, on the way to the station—I told him if he paid the amount I should execute the warrant, and he put the money in his pocket—I took Eigley—he said he had nothing to do with it, he only redeemed the chain for Berry.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know this house? A. Yes, it is a brothel—I have known it for many years—I shall report it as such when the time comes.
BERRY— GUILTY *— Two Years' Impisonment.
EIGLEY— GUILTY .
He was further charged with having been, before convicted in November, 1866, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY*— Five Years' Penal Servitude, and Seven years' Police Supervision.
Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor—Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. MOODY, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against POWELL— NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLE the Defence.
THOMAS GRIGG . I am the head constable of the Victoria Docks, in the service of the London and St. Katharine Dock Company—I know the prisoner, he is a ship worker at the E jetty department, in the employ of the London and St. Katharine Dock Company—on 21st September I accompanied Clements to 10, Cheshire Street, Bromley, the prisoner's residence—Clements went into the house, and brought out these four skins, (produced) value about 2l.—I took them to my office in the docks, and next day the prisoner came to my office, and said, "I hear you want to see me about some skins"—I said, "Yes; what do you know about them?"—he said, "On Saturday last I went into Clements' office, he showed me some skins, and asked me if I would take them out of the Dock for him; I unfortunately took one of the skins under my coat, and conveyed it out of the Dock into the Marine Hotel; Clements followed me out, and came into the hotel, where I gave him up the skin, and he put it in a bundle with other skins; I afterwards went to the Sir John Franklin public-house, Poplar, and Clements came in while I was there, and offered these skins for sale; he said, 'I will sell them for half-a-crown;' he offered them publicly for sale; I said, 'Do not be pleading poverty here; here is a half-crown, and I will take the skins, and I took the skins from him"—I took the prisoner on the 20th, and he said, "This is a very bad job; Clements has drawn me into it"—I had held out no promise or threat to him—this portion of the skin was found at Clements' house, and this other portion in a cask at the Docks—this exactly corresponds—the Dock Company's regulations are in writing—I have not got them here—no one is supposed to pass out of the Docks with any article, without a pass, which is not given unless it is a proper transaction—the prisoner had no right whatever to take these goods out—he has been many years in the service of the Docks—the skills are the Company's property.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that he has been fourteen years in the Company's service? A. Not from my own knowledge—he has always borne a very respectable character—Clements was tried at Alford Police Court, on Saturday last, for stealing these skins, and was sentenced to two months' imprisonment—the prisoner insisted on being tried here—it is a fact that when the matter came to Seaman's knowledge he came to me first and said, "I hear you want to see me about the skins"—I went to his house, but did
not go inside—Clements went inside; he was unable to tell me the number of the house or the street; but he said that be would show me, and he went with me, went in, and brought out the skins (produced)—I held out no promise to Clements; he volunteered his services to show me the house and number—after that I took him before a Magistrate—I here known the prisoner several year; but not familiarly—I have seen him occasionally—Clements was a clerk in the Company's service.
JURY. Q. You say that the prisoner made that statement on the 22nd September, and he was apprehended on 20th October; why was all that interval? A. From information I received 20th September, I reported to the directors on 23rd or 24th September—I believe, they there consulted the solicitors—from information I received, I went to Clements about the skins, and he volunteered a statement, which led me to know that they were in the prisoner's house.
Witness for the Defence.
CHARLES THOMAS TURLEY . I am a baker, of 34, Manor Street, East India Road—five weeks ago last Saturday I was at work in the, docks—I went to the Sir John Franklin, to have a glass of ale—a man named Clements came in, and said that he was rather hard up, for he had spent his money on the previous evening, and he wanted some money to make up for his week's board, and he would sell the parcel which he had got for a half-crown—he had a parcel—the prisoner afterwards said that Clements was not to plead poverty there; but he would lend him a half-crown if he was hard up—Clements asked the prisoner if he would take the parcel home, and let it remain there till he called for it—the parcel was not opened at that time—there were several other persons before the bar—Clements had a little half-and-half, and the prisoner also had something to drink—I did not hear the prisoner say anything about his not wanting the parcel—he said he wanted to make something for his chest.
Cross-examined. Q. Who said that? A. Clements—the parcel was not opened while I was there—I came out of the Docks with Regan—Clements did not say what was in the parcel when he offered to sell it for a half-crown—I was not aware what it contained—when the prisoner said he would lend him a half-crown, and take the parcel home, nothing was said about the contents—Clements only said that he wanted to make something for his chest—I thought it must be a skin, or something of that sort.
RICHARD REGAN . I live at 12, Thomas Street, Bromley—I am a sea faring man—on the day this happened I was working for Seaman at the Docks—it was five weeks ago last Saturday—about 12 in the day we went to the John Franklin—I saw Clements there with a newspaper parcel under his arm—Seaman was there then—Clements said that he had spent all his money the previous evening, and he had not sufficient money to pay his mother for his week's board—Seaman said, "Don't plead poverty, I will lend you ft half-crown, and you can leave the parcel with me and call for it when you like."
Cross-examined. Q. You knew what was in the parcel, did not you? A. Yes, he showed them to me at a tavern in the East India Road, just before we got to the John Franklin—that is about a mile from the Marine Hotel—he showed me a square piece of skin that he had for his chest—it was similar to that, or larger—he did not offer to sell them to me—he offered them to time persons at the bar—he only showed them to me—I saw Mr. Seaman take the parcel in the "Sir John Franklin"—he did not say what was in it at that time.
COURT to T. GRIGG. Q. Had Clements any authority to give tie prisoner authority to take skins out? A. No.
THE COURT considered that there was no evidence on the first Count.—
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. METCALFE, for the Protection, offered no Evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
JOHN WILLIAMS . I live at 8, Basing Row, Greenwich, and am a hammerman—on 2nd October, between 9 and 10 at night, I was standing at my door, with my wife and Mrs. Mars—the prisoner lives next door, at No. 7—I said "There is always a bother here, you can get no rest night or day"—as I said that, the prisoner opened his door and came out—he was near enough to hear me—he said "What is your game?"—I said "What is yours?"—he said "I will soon show you," and struck me with a knife on the right breast—he struck me three times in the face with the knife—I lost a good deal of blood, and was losing my senses when the doctor came—my with came to my assistance and I saw the prisoner stab her as I got up—he was kneeling on my chest, and stabbed me after I was down—I cannot tell whether he stabbed my face before I fell or after—my wife got him by the hand, and he pulled the knife out of ray throat and stabbed her—the prisoner's wife stood by his side, but I never heard her speak—I had had no quarrel with the prisoner, no more than I have with you, nor any dispute in my life—I had not challenged him to fight—I never interchanged a word with him.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you standing at your own door, or opposite the prisoner's door? A. At my own door—I had not been to the prisoner's door or window—I never knocked at his door in my life—he opened his door and came to me before I spoke to him—I had said nothing with regard to his wife—I did not say that she was the landlord's b—where—I never said so to him in the hearing of the neighbours, nor anything like it—I said nothing disrespectful of his wife—I did not call him any ill names—I did not know him, and could not—I positively say that I did not strike him—I had no altercation with him—I did not strike at him, I never lifted my hands to him—I said nothing about a dog—I had no dog with me, my dog was in the cupboard at the time—my dog did not lay hold of the leg of the prisoner's trowsers—he was not there—the prisoner did not say, "Won't you give time to mend?" in my hearing—I did not say, "What the hell do you want?" such an expression never came out of my mouth during my existence—the prisoner did not reply to that, "Anything
you like"—there was not such a word, nothing of the sort—we did not fall together, I fell through his stabbing me—nothing was said, and no struggle took place—I have not forgotten it owing to the pain and suffering—I have got the same feeling as if I was dying—no charge hats ever been made against me of being a quarelsome man and Committing, an assault—I was locked up once for being a little the worse for drink, and that was the only time—I was never convicted of committing an assault—it was dark—my cottage and the prisoner's are in a kind of back street, which is very dark—I know Mrs. Mars and John Mitchell—I never had a fight with a man named Cranley, but he once threw me on some stones opposite my own door, and put some of my ribs out, but I did not fight with him.
MR. PATER. Q. Is there the slightest foundation for suggesting that you offered any provocation, in word or act, to the prisoner, previous to his attacking you with the knife? A. Never in my life.
JOHN MITCHELL . I live at 3, Basing Row, East Greenwich, and am a hammer-man—on Saturday night, 2nd October, about 9.45, I heard a disturbance outside my door, and saw the prisoner, who lives six doors off—I know him intimately, by living in the neighbourhood, but do not know what he is—I heard him say, "Is not there time to mend? Is not there time to mend?"—he mentioned that three of four times over—he was standing in front of Williams—they closed and fell to the ground, the prisoner uppermost—they rushed into one another's arms, but I cannot say which began, it was all at once—the prisoner was lifted up by the collar by a female, not the prosecutor's wife—he passed me as I was going to the man who was stabbed, and went in at his own door—I cannot say whether he had anything in his hand, as it was very dark—I went to Williams' assistance, and fetched a doctor and the police.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner a little in liquor? A. I cannot say; but Williams was a little the worse for drink—I was standing at my own door—when the prisoner said, "Ant there time to mend?" Williams said, "What the b—hell is it you mean? it was not "What the b——hell is it you want?"—I did not say so before the Magistrate—the prisoner replied, "Anything you like," and then closed and fell—the prisoner's wife was there—I did not hear Williams say anything to her, or of her—she said nothing, but she screamed and halloaed—I did not hear the prisoner say anything with respect to her.
JOHN JONES . I am a mechanical engineer, of 4, Lampton Terrace, East Greenwich—on 2nd October, between 9 and 10 o'clock, I was in Mile Street, Greenwich, and heard cries of "Murder!" and "Oh, my poor father!"—I went to the spot, and saw Williams on his knees, with one hand on the ground and the other on his cheek, just outside his own door—I did not see the prisoner then—I took Williams up in my arms and carried him into the house—he was bleeding from his face, breast, and arm, profusely—I asked for a cloth, they gave me a towel, and I attended him till a doctor came—I afterwards accompanied the police-sergeant to the next house, and saw the prisoner sitting on a sofa—I said, "It is a very bad case, and very bad cuts, I should like to see the knife it was done with"—the prisoner's wife said that what her husband had done he had done with his fist, he had no knife, and it was in his own self-defence—the prisoner said that all he had done was to stand in his own self-defence, and he had no knife—the sergeant told me to go and get a candle—previous to that the prisoner's wife produced two table-knives, and said they were all the knives she had in the house—
the prisoner was present at that time—I obtained a caudle, and went up stairs with the constable—the prisoner's wife went up first—I went on one side of the bed, and the constable on the other—I held the candle, he took the bed off, and said, "It is pot here, but we turned up the mattrass, which was in two halves, and something dropped on the ground; he then picked up this knife (produced)—it had been washed, but there was a little blood on the shoulder—I know it had been washed, because both blade and handle were wet, and there was water on the floor—it was closed.
Cross-examined. Q. How far do you live from the prisoner and prosecutor? A. Nearly three-quarters of a mile—I knew Williams before.
FREDERICK BARNARD (Police Sergeant R 19). On the night of the 2nd October I went to the prosecutor's house—I was directed there by Mitchell, and found Williams attended by a medical man—I went next door with Jones, and knocked, but could not get an answer—there was no light in the house—I put my hand against the door, but could not break it open—I tried a second time and broke it open—there are only two rooms in the house—it being dark I caught hold of the prisoner's wife, not knowing whether it was a man or a woman—Willoughby, who was with me, Went up stairs, and brought the prisoner down—I said, "This is a very serious charge, I must take you in custody for cutting and wounding this man"—he was going to say something, and I said, "This is a very serious charge, I would rather you would not say any thing"—he said, "I have done nothing but in self-defence"—he was, I believe, sober, I saw nothing to the contrary—I asked to see the knives—two common table-knives were shown to me and a third was produced afterwards—the wife said, "This is all we have got"—I obtained a candle, and Jones and the constable went up stairs—the prisoner's, hands bad blood on them, and his right shirt sleeve was saturated with blood—the prisoner's wife was also taken in custody, but discharged by the Magistrate—I went up stairs next morning, Sunday, the 3rd, and found a hand-basin in the bed-room, containing water stained very much with blood.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you say to the prisoner, "You are a very foolish person to throw yourself in that way on that man Williams? A. Certainly not, nor anything similar—I said nothing to him in the cell—I never saw him after the charge was taken that night till I saw him before the Magistrate next morning—I did not see him at the policecells next morning, or in any cell at all, and never used such an expression to him at any time or place.
MR. PATER Q. Were you asked these questions before to-day? A. No.
CHARLES WILLOUGHBY (Policeman R 208). On the night of 2nd October, I accompanied Barnard to the prisoner's house—he desired me to go up stairs—I went up and caught the prisoner by the right arm—it was very dark, and I cannot say what he was doing there—he was not in bed—I brought him down stairs, and then went up with Mr. Jones and a candle—as I removed the mattrass from the bedstead this knife fell on the floor—it had been fresh washed.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner say that if he had done anything, he had done it in self-defence? A. Yes—I say that the knife had been washed, because it was wet with water—there was no soap.
MR. PATER. Q. Had you an opportunity of seeing the condition the prisoner's shirt was in? A. The wrist was very much saturated with blood, on both arms—the greatest amount was on the left sleeve.
COURT. Q. When he said if he had done anything he hade done it in Self-defence, did he say anything more? A. He said, "And you see, constable, what I have done I have done with my fist, as I have no knife or other weapon in my possession"—that was prior to my finding the knife.
ELIZA MARS . I am the wife of James Mars, of 5, Basing Row—on the night of 2nd October, I heard Mrs. Williams calling for help, and trying to get the prisoner off her husband—I pulled him off, and as I did so Williams said, "I am stabbed"—I went in doors, got a candle, and found Williams lying in a pool of blood—I have lived seven yean in that neighbourhood, at No. 5, and never heard Williams and the prisoner have a word; but their wives had been quarrelling for about a fortnight—I heard them.
Cross-examined. Q. But you never beard an alteration between Williams and Mr. Clark? A. No—I know Mr. Brewster, who lives close by, and Mrs. Bennett, who lives with her husband, and Mr. and Mrs. Baker, who live close by, and so does Harriett Cook—I did not notice all those persons, that evening till afterwards—it was a very dark evening—I heard the cry, and ran to the spot; but did not see the commencement.
ELIZA WILLIAMS . I am the prosecutor's wife—on 2nd October I had been out with him to market, about 7 o'clock, we returned about 9—my husband was sober—he had had one pint of beer, when he came home to his supper—he had his supper, and after that went to the door to take his pipe, which I handed to him, when it was knocked out of my hand by the prisoner, who stepped out at his door, and asked Mr. Williams what was his game—Mr. Williams said, "What is yours?" and Clark said, "I will soon show you"—he stabbed Mr. Williams four times before he fell, and then he fell—I went to get the prisoner's hand from his throat, and could feel something in his band; but cannot say what it was, because it was so small—I was trying to get the prisoner's hand from my husband's throat, because, he was bleeding so—Mrs. Mars heard me crying for help, and catched hold of the back of him, and pulled him off, and so soon as he rose he made a strike at me, which numbed my arm—it was with the same hand which I held at my husband's throat—I afterwards examined my arm, and found I was stabbed—I undid my jacket, and found a gash, and my arm was all lying open.
Cross-examined. Q. What was the length of the wound? A. Five inches long—we had not called at any public-houses when we went to market, we had not a drop of anything till we came home, and then I had a cup of tea—I had my supper when I came home—I went out before my husband, he only came on to the steps—I was not in the inner, room when he was on the steps, I was on the steps of the next neighbour's door, getting a pipe for him—he did not go and knock at the prisoner's window repeatedly, and use abusive expressions to the prisoner within—he was not out of the house at all during the time I was in it—I will undertake to swear He did not go out after supper—I was outside when he was on the steps—I swear he did not go out for a moment by himself—I never heard him use abusive language to the prisoner, or speak disrespectfully of the woman, or call her the landlord's where—I did not hear the prisoner say, "Give, me time to mend," or my husband reply, "What the b—y hell do you want"—I saw them rush to each other, but I did not know what Mr. Clark had in his hand—I saw Clark rush at my husband first.
in a chair, supported by two men, bleeding profusely—I got him up stairs and partly undressed, and found several wounds—the principal one was on his right cheek, about six inches long, completely through into his month, another was on his left arm, about eight inches long and two inches deep, another on his chest, under the right collar-bone, about two inches long and nearly an inch deep; another on his left shoulder, a small wound in his throat, half an inch long, and one in his left thumb—he was in danger several days and upon my advice the Magistrate took his testimony—toil pocket-knife might have inflicted the wounds.
FRANCIS JAMES RYDER . I am a surgeon, of East Greenwich—I was called to attend Mrs. Williams, who was suffering from an incised wound, about six inches long and an inch deep—this knife would have inflicted it—the great danger would have been from erysipelas setting in afterwards.
Cross-examined. Q. Was she in danger? A. She was in danger of erysipelas.
GUILTY on Second Count — five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
966. HENRY STANHOPE (18) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing one witch and chain, three rings, and other articles, of William Wray, in his dwelling-house; also two brooches and other articles, of Robert Beard, in his dwelling-house; also one chain, one locket, and other articles, of John Bolton, in his dwelling house— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. TURNER conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES HUTCHISON . I am a draper, of 100, Queen's Road, Bayswater—on 25th September, the prisoner came in for three pennyworth of black Scotch yarn, and gave me a florin—I gave him the change, and after he left found it was bad—f went after him, brought him back, gave him into custody, and he was remanded and discharged.
Prisoner. I had left the shop ten minutes, and stopped looking in a shop window, whereas, if I had done anything wrong, I should have made my way off as fast as I could.
HENRY BRIERLY . I keep the Woodman public-house, George Street, Greenwich—on 9th October, about 6 o'clock, I served the prisoner with a glass of ale—he gave me a florin—I put it on a shelf by itself, gave him the change, and he left—about two minutes afterwards, a second party came in for a glass of ale, and gave me a bad shilling—I then examined the florin the prisoner gave me, und found it was bad—I went out to the prisoner and told him—he was about 200 yards off, apparently waiting for the other person—he said that he was not aware it was bad—I told him he must wait and gave both into custody, with the florin—they were both searched in the house—there is a hole in the floor, in front of the bar, where spirits are let down—the prisoners stood near there, and I afterwards found this bad half-crown and shilling close to where they had been standing.
COURT. Q. How do you know the prisoner was waiting for the other man? A. When he got out of the main street he waited, looking towards my house—the second one was standing outside the door, but I did not see
them speak—the prisoner stood is one of the side streets, peeping round the corner, and I went up to him.
Prisoner. I was looking round because I heard people running. Witness. Nobody was running—I did not run, I was on the same side as he was—but the public-house is on the opposite side—I had crossed over—the other one came close behind him, and I came to the conclusion that they were he concert.
JAMES HAZLEDON (Policeman R R 21). I took the prisoner and the other man in custody—the other man was discharged at the station—I told the prisoner the charge, he said he did not know the florin was bad—I found on him a half-crown and 7d. in coppers—I received a counterfeit half-crown at the station from the sergeant—I took him just outside the door, and under where he was standing I found a 5s. piece.
COURT. Q. You left the prisoner waiting there, nobody detaining him? A. No—he might have gone away for what I knew.
Prisoner's Defence. I am quite innocent. There were five weeks between the two passings. After having the ale, I heard some men reading, and thought they were running a race; but it seems they were naming after me. The 1s. 7d. I had was the change I got for the florin.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Protection; and MR. MOODY defended Morris
WILLIAM LOFT . I an a dustman, and live at Loampit Hall, Lewisham—on Thursday, 7th October, I had two mares in a brickfield—one was brown and the other grey—they were safe that morning at 7 o'clock—next morning I went to the field and they were gone—I went to Mr. Benjamin Nicholls' next day, and saw them—they were worth about 7l.—I never gave anybody permission to remove them—I know Morris and Hawkes—Morris lives near me, and Hawkes lives at Deptford—I have seen them together.
Cross-examined. Q. From whom do you rent the field? A. it is where I take my dust to—I don't pay anything for it—it is the property of Mr. Spinks—there is a brickfield adjoining, belonging to Mr. Lea—I don't know whether Morris' father keeps hones there.
THOMAS COOMBER . I live at Loampit Hall, Lewisham, and am a labourer—on the evening of 7th October, I saw the three prisoners together—they came from Mr. Spinks' field, across Mr. Lea's field, and went to an unfinished building—I saw them come back again, and go into Mr. Spinks' field again—I then left to go to tea.
Cross-examined. Q. What time did you leave? A. About 5.45—Morris's father has the field next to Mr. Loft.
THOMAS JAMES MITSON . I am a labourer, and Silver at Silver Street, Lewisham—on 7th October, I saw two boys driving a brown bone over Mr. Lea's brickfield—I don't know whether it was Morris—I did not swear before the Magistrate that it was Morris—I saw two boys leading the houses, a brown one and a grey one, but I do not know either of the boys—I knew Morris before—he was not one of the boys—I never saw them before—I
don't know who they were—the biggest boy was leading the first horse—I did not notice the other boy.
JAMES JOSEPH BARRY . I am a plasterer's boy, and live at Heather Green, Lewisham—I know the three prisoners—on 7th October, I saw than coming from Morris's father's house—I asked Morris where he was going—he did not answer me, and went on—they went to Mr. Spinks' brickfield, and then came back—they went to a stable belonging to Morris's father, and when they came out, I saw Morris hand Jackson a halter, and bridle—they went under the railway arch, while Jackson went on to the railway, and hid the halter and bridle in the ditch—I went to see what they was doing, and Morris picked up a stone, and threw it at me—it just grazed my head—I went and stood round the corner till they had gone—I went back and found the halter and bridle in the ditch on the line—I heard about the mares being lost the next morning, and I made a communication to Mr. Loft.
Cross-examined. Q. You know them all? A. Yes—Morris' father keeps horses in Mr. Lea's field, next to Mr. Loft—I saw them between 4 and 5 o'clock in the afternoon—I saw Jackson hide the bridle, and I went and saw where he had put it afterwards—I did not take it away.
BENJAMIN NICHOLLS . I am a horse slaughterer, at 187, Kent Street, Borough—on 7th October Jackson came to me and said he had brought two horses from Mr. Ballard—I refused to let him have the money, as he was too young—he came again in half-an-hour with Hawkes—Hawkes wanted to know the reason I had not paid the money, and he said he had been sent on purpose for it—I said the horses were worth 3l. 10s.—he said very well, and I paid him the money, and they went away—Mr. Loft came on the following morning and identified the mares.
Hawkes' Defence. Mr. Nicholls gave me the money, and I gave it to Morris. He said they were his father's horses, and told me to take them in Mr. Ballard's name.
Jackson's Defence. I saw Hawkes, and he said he had two horses to take to Chubby May's, the knacker's. He left me in Kent Street while I went and sold them. The money was given to Morris.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
MARY MERCER . I live at Union Buildings, Woolwich, and urn the wife of John Mercer, who keeps a marine store shop—on 3rd September the prisoner came to me and said he had come to do the weights and scales—he said he had been sent by Mr. Wedderburn, and that the other man, Alf, had broken his leg—I said, "Has Mr. Wedderburn allowed you to take his situation?" and he said "Yes"—I gave him 1s. 6d., and he gave me this receipt—I gave him the money because I believed he had come from Mr. Wedderburn.
Highbury Vale—on Tuesday, 1st June, the prisoner came to my shop—he said he had come from Mr. Wedderburn to do the scales—he said they were wrong, and charged half-a-crown for them—I told him father and mother were not at home, and he said if it was not paid we should have to pay a fine of 30s.—I then paid him 2s. 6d.—I knew Mr. Wedderburn was the proper man to do the scales—if he had not mentioned his name I should not have allowed him to do them—the prisoner went out and came back in about two minutes with three weights—he said he would take our weights away, and leave the others—I asked how much they were, and he said 2s. 6d.—I paid him the 2s. 6d., and he went away—Mr. Wedderburn has seen the weights since.
JABEZ WEDDERBURN . I am a maker of scales and weights, and live at 6, Gott's Place, Woolwich—I have been in the habit of adjusting Mr. Kent's scales—he is the employer of Miss Heath—I have also adjusted Mr. Mercer's scales—I do not know the prisoner at all—he was not in my employment—I have a son in the business—he is an adjuster of scales—I never authorized the prisoner to adjust scales for me—some weights were shown to me by Miss Heath—a man named Alfred is one of my journeymen—he has not broken his leg—he had not Ceased to work for me—he has been with me seven years—I do not adjust Mr. Bosworth's scales.
Prisoner. I did work for Mr. Wedderburn for one day, and I could not get any pay.
JABEZ WEDDERBURN, JUN . I am the son of the last witness—the prisoner has worked for me as an adjuster of weights and scales—I carry on business at 22, High Street, Islington—I have no one in my service of the name of Alfred, or anyone Who has broken his leg—I have given the prisoner weights to sell to persons at different times—I did not give him any on 3rd September—I did net send him to Mr. Motor's or Mr. Boswerth's—he has not accounted to me for the money he got.
Prisoner's Defence. I was employed by a man who told me Mr. Wedderburn had given him those shops to do, on account of Mr. Wedderburn's man breaking his leg. The man went with me to the shops, and I gave him the money. I have a good character, and have my discharge from the army here. I knew nothing of the man; he was a stronger and I did what he told me as my master. He absconded after I was taken, and I have not been able to find him.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. PATER the Defence.
JAMES SKIPPER . I live at 10, Grove Road, Forest Hill, Lewisham—I am a carman—I know the prisoner by sight—on the 10th August my grey,—more was in a field opposite the Swiss Cottage, at Forest Hill, at 7 o'clock—I have not seen it since—it was gone on the 11th—it was worth about 7l.—I gave information to the police—I never gave the prisoner any authority to take it.
LUTHER MARTIN . I live at Park Road, Forest Hill, find am a cow keeper—I know Mr. Skipper's grey more—I saw it in the field on 10th August, opposite the Swiss Cottage—I saw the prisoner there—he went into the field and caught the horse, and put a rope round its neck—he tied it to the fence, and went to shut the gate—the horse got loose and went down the road—I was on my milk rounds—the prisoner asked me to help him
catch the horse, and I said I had not time—I knew the prisoner before, by I sight—he caught the horse the second time, and went away with it towards Deptford.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know he lived at Deptford? A. I don't I know where he lives—I have known him about twelve months—I did not I know his name—I knew he was a carman—he has his own cart—Mr. Skipper came to me on the 11th, and I told him what I had seen—there were other horses in the field.
JAMES SHARP . I live at 5, Queen's Street, Deptford—on the 10th August I saw the prisoner, between 7 and 7.30, going towards Forest Hill, with a cord in his hand—he was in his shirt sleeves, and had a red shirt on—I knew him by sight before.
HENRY BUCKINGHAM . I live at Deptford, and am a rag and bone dealer—I know Mr. Skipper's grey mare—on the morning of 10th August I saw it coming down the Brackley Road—another man was leading it—the prisoner was about ten yards behind when I first saw him—the man who was leading the mare asked me for a bit of cord—he was going from Forest Hill towards Deptford—it was between 8.20 and 8.30—the prisoner said, "Good morning" to me, and he said my donkey was a better one than be thought it was.
Cross-examined. Q. You took him at Deptford, where he lives? A. Yes.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MESSRS. PATER and KELLY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
JOHN LOGAN . I am a draper, residing at 3, Cambridge Terrace, Woolwich—on Monday night, 20th September, I was in the Freemasons' Tavera, at Woolwich, from 11 to 12 o'clock—the prisoner and deceased were there—they were quarrelling—they went out to fight two or three times and came in again—I went out the last time, hearing a scuffle—they were then in the middle of the road—I saw the prisoner strike Smith, I could not say where being dark, and a lot of people about—they both went down, Beasley was uppermost—I believe I saw him strike Smith while he was down, but I don't feel quite certain about it—Smith seemed very much hurt; he did not get up, and he was carried to the side of the public-house—I ran inside, and got some brandy for him—I believe I told the sergeant where he lived, and he was taken home.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not see the commencement of it? A. No there may have been one or two there before me—they had been an hour or three-quarters in the house—Smith was drunk; I should think they were both very drunk—I have not the least idea what the quarrel was about.
WILLIAM MOULDER . I keep an eating-house at Woolwich—I was opposite the Freemasons' Tavern on this night about 11.30—there was some quarrelling in the tavern, and I walked over—Smith had his coat off—the prisoner said, "If you come out here I will fight you"—he was advised to go in, and he went back into the house, and returned with his coat on, and struck Beasley—Beasley closed with him, and they scuffled about, too Beasley struck him in the face, and knocked him backwards—he fell from
the effect of the blow—they both fell, Beasley upon him—Beasley got upon his knee, and struck him while he was on the ground—Smith fell on the back of his head—I saw blood coming out of his ear—he was quite senseless after he received the blow—two or three persons came and assisted to remove him, and they set him against the house—Beasley said it served him right, and if he was left there all night it would do him good.
Cross-examined. Q. Smith, you say, had his coat off when he first came out? A. Yes; I did not hear him speak, but I suppose it was for the purpose of fighting—he went in and came out again—Beasley was talking to I someone else, and Smith came up and hit him a back-hander about the face—it was a violent blow—then they scuffled, and Beasley struck him—while they were scuffling I suppose they exchanged blows two or three times—they were not struggling on the ground—Smith never moved after be fell—he fell on the crossing—I don't know what the dispute was about.
JOSEPH CRAMP (Policeman, R 18). I was on duty near the Freemason's Arms, Woolwich, on Monday night, 20th September, about 12 o'clock—seeing a crowd of persons, I went up, and found the deceased lying on the payment, against the railings of the house, insensible—he was very ill, and under the influence of drink—I got four men to help me carry him to the divisional surgeon—he attended to him, and said there would be no harm; he would be safe till the next morning—he was then charged with being drunk and incapable—he was discharged by the Magistrate next day—I afterwards saw him dead—I took the prisoner into custody—I was referred to him at the time as having struck the man, and he said, "It leryea him right; he is not so bad as he pretends to be; he is only acting the goat"—when I took him into custody he said he had heard of it, and he was very sorry to hear it.
Cross-examined. Q. When did the man die? A. On the Friday, and I apprehended the prisoner on the next Thursday—I thought that the man was more drunk than hurt—he was kept in the station at night, and taken before the Magistrate next day, and discharged, upon paying 7s. 6d., the doctor's fee—he walked away, with his friends, to a public-house—I don't believe he drink anything.
BRANTFORD EDWARDS . I am a surgeon at Guy's Hospital—the deceased we received there on 22nd September—he was suffering from symptoms of injury to the brain—he died the following morning—on making a post-mortem examination, I found a fracture at the base of the skull—being thrown violently on the pavement would be likely to cause such an injury.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you find a corresponding external injury? A. No—there was blood effused under the scalp; but no external wound—it might have been caused by a falls—the brain was not injured by drinking—the injury to the brain was probably caused by the fall, otherwise it was in a healthy state—there is no doubt that death was caused by the fracture.
MR. METCALFE called the following witness for the Defence.
HENRY WALSH . I live in Chapel Street, Woolwich—I was at the Freemason's Tavern, with a person named Webber—the prisoner came in, without a hat—he said he had lost it in the train, and wished to borrow one—Smith was there, round the other side—I don't know what the quarrel commenced about; but I saw Smith with his coat off, wanting to fight Beasley—Smith appeared to be the provoking party—Beasley said, "I don't want to kick up no row inside the house, come outside, and see, what
you want with me"—when they got outside Smith had his coat off, and wanted someone to hold it, and everybody declined—they advised him to go in—he went in to get someone inside to hold his coat, and they declined—he stopped inside two or three minutes, or more, and during that time Beasley was talking to a friend outside, and Smith ran out and struck bin a blow—Beasley could not see him coming, his back was turned to him—it was a violent blow—Beasley turned round, and they had a struggle together—Beasley made a blow at him, and it just brushed him—the struggled together, and Smith fell, pulling Beasley on the top of him—there was no blow struck by Beasley when they were down—I was close against them—Beasley got up as soon as he could get clear of Smith—Smith was found to be hurt, and was carried away by one of the sergeants—I knew both the parties—Beasley worked at Mr. Henley's—I always found him a quiet, peaceable man—I was never in Smith's company.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. Q. Will you undertake to swear that it was not a direct blow in the face from Beasley, which knocked Smith down? A. Yes, I will, it was not a blow to knock a man down—I won't swear it did not hit him in the face, I did not see it—I won't swear the blow did not knock him down; he was pulled down in the scuffle.
BENJAMIN WEBBER . I live at 29, King Street, Woolwich—I was with Walsh at the public-house—I saw Beasley standing outside, talking to a gentleman—I saw Smith come outside the door, he passed round my back and struck Beasley in the face—it was a violent blow—Beasley said, "I can't take that for nothing," and then turned round and ran at him, and he just brushed his coat, and Smith fell off the kerb—he did not fall from a blow—Beasley did not strike him, he struck at him, and he tumbled—I believe the tumble was caused by the kerb as he was going back—he tripped and tumbled off the pavement into the road—they both tumbled—there was no blow struck when they were down.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see, Beasley strike any other blow than the one that brushed his coat? A. No, Smith was half on the kerb, and he was half drunk—they were not fighting—I can't say what caused Beasley to fall—I will swear Beasley did not strike Smith a blow in the face—I had been in the house and had one glass of beer—I am an apprentice to a carpenter—I heard nothing of the row inside—the first thing I saw was Smith pass behind me and strike Beasley—I saw no blow struck by Beasley while the were on the ground—I can't say there was none, I might have turned my head—Beasley was picked up, and Smith laid there.
WILLIAM PREBBLE . I live at 43, Hudson Road, Plumstead—I was in front of the bar on this night—the dispute arose upon the spelling of the word "Saddler"—the prisoner corrected Smith—he was appealed to by somebody, and he gave his decision against Smith—Smith was angry at this and there was a bit of confusion—I did not see Smith take off his coat inside, but when I went outside he had got it off—he went inside again—Beasley came in front of the bar and stood for a short time—he then bade us all "Goodnight" and went out, and was talking to a gentleman outside, and Smith came up and struck him—Beasley turned round and struck back at him—I could not say whether he hit him—they had a scuffle, and fell off the kerb together, into the road—Smith tumbled, pulling Beasley on the top of him—I can't tell whether any blow was struck then; I saw none.
The prisoner received the good character
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS RIBTON and BROMBY the Defence.
EDWIN FOX . I live at No. 1, Wellington Street, Rotherhithe, and am a hairdresser—on the afternoon of 19th October, about 1.30, I was in the Deptford Road—the prisoner overtook me, and by his invitation I went into the Windmill public-house—I have known him fifteen years he called for a quartern of rum, which he paid for—about a minute or so after we bad been in the public-house, the prisoner looked out of the window and said, "Who is this coming here?"—I went to the window, and saw that it was Abrahams—I told him to—Abrahams came into the house this spoke first, and said to the prisoner, "Halloa, Joe; you have beaten me to-day, you are here first"—Welsh replied, "You have beaten me this morning; I will have my money"—Abrahams said, "I will pay you, but not what you want"—Abrahams then said, "Well, let the work be judged by Mr. Finlen, Crackwell, or any other competent man you like; I will pay you all they say it is worth"—Welsh said, "When?" Abrahams replied, "Once within a week"—Welsh then said to me, "Mr. Fox, I have done the work for Abrahams, Abrahams has received his money, and he won't pay me mine"—I said, "Whatever differences there may be between you and Mr. Abrahams, you can settle without my interference"—Abrahams then handed me a Police Court summons—I have it here—it is a plaint for 1l. 6s., for work done, taken out by Welsh against Abrahams—I knew nothing about the summons—Abrahams handed it to me, and said, "Read it, Mr. Fox, that will explain all"—he knew that I had known Welsh for many years, in fact, I have known them both an equal period, ever since I have been in the neighbourhood of Rotherhithe, that is fifteen years—Abrahams said, "Well, I will have a glass of ale; Fox, have you got any money?"—I said, "Yes—he said, "Lend me sixpence"—I did so, and Abrahams called for a pint of ale; be offered a glass to Welsh, he would not accept it—he said, "I would not drink with such a man as you are"—I was reading the summons, and I saw Welsh make a push at Abrahams with his two hands thus (describing it)—it was a push, not a blow—Abrahams did not advance towards him, but he advanced towards Abrahams, and pushed him—Abrahams said, "Joe, keep your hands down; talk as long as you like, but keep your hands down;" and Abrahams put his open hand within about six inches of Welsh's face—I suppose they might have been two feet apart at the time, an arm length, and six or eight inches over—Welsh said, "If you could serve your wife in that way, you cannot stop my tongue"—I said, "Welsh, lot the dead rest, you ought to know better"—Abraham's wife had been dead about three years—Abrahams remained in the same position, with his ale in front of him—I was reading the summons, and I saw Welsh force Abrahams on to a seat, underneath the window on the opposite Me of the bar, at the back of me; he then retreated back from him, about 4ft.—I heard somebody call out, "Look out, Fox, Joe has got a knife"—I don't know who it was said that, someone in front of the bar; that caused me to turn round, and I then saw Welsh almost upon Abrahams, and the knife within about six or eight inches of his belly, and When wrote it into Abrahams' bells, before I could get hold of him scarcely—I pulled him from Abrahams with my right hand, and pulled Abrahams off the seat with my left, and thrust him out at the door, and followed him—I was standing in the door way Abrahams
outside and Welsh in, and Welsh was making an advance towards me, and I said, "Joe, get away"—he then had the knife open at his hand—it was a white-handled knife, 8 in. or 9 in. long, with a spring back—I did not see the handle then; I saw the blade—I did not observe whether there was any blood upon it—in consequence of what Abrahams said, I took him into the tap-room and examined him—I undid his trowser and found blood on his shirt, at the left side of the belly—I did not notice anything protruding then—I went outside and a policeman was called, and Welsh was taken into custody—I then took Abrahams inside again, and made a further examination, and I then saw the intestines protruding—I put him into a cab, and he was driven, first to the police-station, and then to Guy's Hospital.
Cross-examined. Q. You seem to have been reading the summons? A. Yes—I don't think anybody could have seen much more of the transaction than I did—I saw a push; there was no scuffle—I saw Welsh push Abrahams on to the seat; there was no scuffle on the part of Abrahams—there was no scuffle, I did not see it—I was not with my back exactly to the two men—they were standing, as it might be, at the side of me—I know Phillips—I believe he would tell the truth in the matter—I can't think that anything could have happened which I did not see while I was reading the summons—I was not in the public-house three minutes before Abrahams came in—he was a carpenter and joiner—I had not seen him since the Sunday before this—when I went into the public house with the prisoner, I did not see Abrahams—I should think the public-house is a mile from the Police Courts—the prisoner did not say a word to me about Abrahams before he made his appearance—I can't say that he knew anything about Abrahams being about to come there, he had not mentioned it to me—Abrahams was a man very prone to chaffing, and when he was the worse for liquor he was very irritating and insulting—he did not speak in that style to the prisoner that day—he said "Halloa, Joe, you haw beaten me to day," in a sort of light-hearted manner, not in a chaffing way—I can't call it chaffing—I was not reading the summons when Welsh pushed towards Abrahams with his two hands—Phillips was standing at the side of the bar—Welsh touched Abrahams and pushed him back—he pushed towards him, and Abrahams came back with the push he received—Abrahams was not advancing towards him—he was very near him, and he put one hand close up to Welsh's face, so—it was his left hand, I am quite sure of that, and it was open—he put it within 6 in. or 8 in. of his face—it was after that I commenced to read the summons, and it was while I was reading it, that I saw Welsh force Abrahams on to the seat underneath the window—I could see what occurred immediately before that, although I was reading the summons; they were at the side of me, and I could see what was going on; if I am looking fit you I can see my lord at the same time—nothing happened before but what I have repeated—I should imagine a scuffle to be, two men struggling together—I did not see anything of that sort.
MR. PATER. Q. You say Welsh pushed Abrahams with his two hands; was that after Abrahams had asked him to drink? A. Yes—it was directly after that that Abrahams put up his hand—the prisoner was not approaching him, he was standing still.
the deceased man Abrahams to the Windmill public-house—we found the prisoner and Fox there—they had somedrink before them—the deceased went in a minute or a minute and a half before me—when I went in I heard Welsh say, "You have got the better of me that morning"—Abraham replied, in a jocular sort of way, "I thought I should"—that was in allusion to the summons—Abrahams asked me if I had got any money—I said, "No," and he asked Fox to lend him sixpence, which he did, and he called for a pint of ale, poured out a glass, and asked Welsh to drink—he refused, he said, "I will not drink with such a man as you"—Abrahams did not repeat the offer—they were standing in front of the bar, near to each other—the window was behind them—after Welsh had refused the ale Ab got rather close to him, and he said, "Keep away from me," and Abrahams retreated back to the window—at this time I saw the summons in the hands of Fox; he was reading it—Abrahams said, "If you get any competent man (mentioning two neighbours close by, Cracknell and another) I will pay you every farthing"—the prisoner answered, "You don't intend to pay me at all"—Abrahams said, "Yes, once within a week"—the prisoner then went and shoved him up against the seat under the window—he was standing up close by the seat he had advanced from the window again a little way, 2ft. or so—the distance from, the bar to the window is about 5ft.—I did not hear the prisoner say anything when he shoved him, but the deceased said, "Keep your hands off, Joe; talk as long as you like"—I did not hear anything else said after that—as Abrahams was leaning up against the window the prisoner came up to him, and with one hand, like that, he shoved him, and after that I saw him withdraw his hand, and I saw a knife in it, and I called out, "Stand on one side, he has got knife; he is stabbed"—I had not seen the prisoner take the knife out—I first saw it in his hand after it was done—Fox pulled hold of the prisoner and pulled him back, and shoved him to the door—I did not see the prisoner make the plunge, but I saw him withdraw his hand, with the knife in it, after the man was stabbed—it was after he withdrew his hand that I called out, "He has a knife"—I saw the knife—I went for a policeman.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you accompanied the deceased from the Police Court after the dismissal of the summons? A. Yes—I can't say whether he was excited—he seemed as comfortable as I had ever seen him—I did not hear him make any exultation about having gained the day—it is about a mile from the Police Court to the public-house—I did not know that the prisoner had gone in there, and I don't think Abrahams did—their meeting there was entirely an accident—I don't suppose more than five minutes elapsed from the time I went in till I saw the knife in the prisoner's hand—Abrahams got rather close to the prisoner, and the prisoner said, "Keep away from me"—I did not see Abrahams put his hand close to the prisoner—I might have said before the Magistrate that there was a bit of a scuffle; I believe I did say so—when one man shoves another that is a scuffle, but there was no actual fighting, or anything of that sort—the deceased got within about 2ft. of Welsh—I don't know whether the deceased was rather given to joking and jeering—I did not see any bread-and-cheese there—I had none, nor bad Abrahams—I can't say whether there was any at the bar, or on the counter—I don't know whether the prisoner had been eating any.
COURT. Q. I wish to know, in plain torns, did you see the deceased
strike or push the prisoner? A. I saw him put up his hand, and he said, "Keep away, Joe"—I don't think he touched him—I should not like to swear to such a thing—I saw him put his hand up, and say, "Keep your hands off, Joe, don't come too near me"—I did not see anything like a blow struck—whether he touched him or not I cannot say.
JOHN HAMPSHIRE (Policeman, R 174). On Tuesday afternoon, 19th October, I was on duty in Windmill Street—in consequence of what I heard, I went to the corner, and Phillips made a communication to me—the prisoner came out of the public-house at the time, and was pointed out to me—I told him that he was given into custody for stabbing Mr. Abrahams, and he must go with me—he said, "I am quite willing to go"—I asked him where the knife was that he had done it with—he said, "I know where it is, I will give it you at the station"—on getting to the station I searched him, and found this knife upon him—it is a clasped knife—it had marks of blood on it—he made no reply to the charge when it was entered at the station.
JOHN BELITH . I am assistant boose-surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on Tuesday, 19th October, I was called to attend to Abrahams, who was brought there by Fox—I examined him as soon as he came in—I found he had as incised wound of the abdomen, from which the bowels protruded—it had entered the abdominal cavity—it had perforated the whole of the wall of the abdomen so that the bowel came through—that was as deep as it could go—it must have been inflicted with considerable violence—this knife would inflict a wound of that nature—I attended him till he died—he died from that injury next day at 1.30.
ELEANOR MARY GREAVES . I am the wife of George Greaves, of 32, Thames Street, Rotherhithe—the deceased, John Abrahams, was my sister's husband—I went to Guy's Hospital to see him on the morning after this happened—I remained with him till he died—he was sensible up to the time of his death.
JURY to WILLIAM PHILLIPS. Q. Look at that knife; is that a knife inch as is usually carried by working men? A. Yes; the circumstance of its having a spring back is not unusual now.
Several Witness deposed to the prisoner's good character at a quiet inoffensive man— GUILTY—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on the ground of his privious good character — DEATH .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
After hearing MR. CARTER'S opening, THE COURT was of opinion there was no case for the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CARTER, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conduced the Prosecution; and MR. PATER the Defence
JAMES GRAHAM . I life at 11, Cornwall Terrace, Regent's Park—on 28th August, about 10.30 at night, I was called by my servant, and found my house had been entered by an attic window, and an inner door of that attic had been forced—I missed from my dressing-room a desk containing five 5l. notes and 15l. in gold making altogether 40l., a gold watch, and a cigar-case—I had received the notes from the Alliance Bank on the 27th August, in payment for a cheque—there was an empty house a few doors from my house—the drawing-room window was open—it had been closed about 9 o'clock.
CHARLES HOLLAND . I am manager of the North Woolwich Gardens—the prisoner, on 27th September gave me a 5l. note, and I gave his change—I asked him to write his name on it, and he wrote something—I put the note in my cash-box—I had no other notes then—I afterwards said to away to Dr. McOscar.
Cross-examined. Q. You knew Mr. Byworth before, did you not? A. No—I was a stranger to him, and he to me—I don't knew whether my brother knew him—my brother is the proprietor of the gardens.
RICHARD ADTH BAILEY . I am a clerk in the Bank of England—I produce the note spoken to by the last witness—the number is 23,130 dated 2nd July, 1869—it was paid into the Bank be the 1st October by the Union Bank—it bears the name of "John Parker," "Holland," and "Mcoscar."
CHARLES HUMPHREY . I am a clerk in the Alliance Bank—on 26th August last I cashed a cheque for Mr. Graham—I gave him five 5l. notes, numbered from 32,129 to 32,133 inclusive—these (produced) are the noted.
WILLIAM MCNATH (Detective Serjeant D). I went to Mr. Graham house on 39th August—No. 21, in the same Terrace, was empty, and under repairs—you could go from that house over the roofs of the adjoining houses—I went over and got in at the attic window—I found the door had been broken open—on Thursday, 7th October, from information I went to the prisoner's house, 14, King Edward Street, West minster road—I knocked at the front door, and the prisoner came out of that the area door—I said, "Mr. Byworth, I want speak to you"—he said I had made a mistake, his name was not Byworth—I found he was going in doors, and I jumped here the railings, down the area, quite close to him—we went into the kitchen—I heard some footsteps coming down the area, and I turned in head to see who it was, and when I turned round again, the prisoner had the lid off the kettle, which was on the fire—I rushed at him, and shoved him—he fell, and this purse fell out of his hand—I opened it, and found these three notes, which have been produced—I told him they were three of five which were stolen from No. 11, Cornwall Terrace, on the 28th August—I asked him how he accounted for them, and he made no reply—before this, I had told him that I was an officer, and asked him about a note that had been changed at Woolwich Gardens—he said he had not changed one, and I said. "I know you have, and you have signed your name as John Parker"—he made no reply to that—he was in the act of putting the puree in the kettle when I took him—I can't say whether it was full of water.
Cross-examined. Q. Why did you jump over the area railings, was not there at gate? A. That was the shortest way—I don't think the gate was locked—I followed the prisoner into the kitchen—I was about three yards from him when he was putting the purse in the kettle—it was about 6 o'clock in the evening, just dusk—I told him I was a police-constable directly I got into the kitchen—I never saw him before—he did not complain of weakness or ill-health to me.
Several witnesses deposed to the prisoner's good character; but two constables stated that they had known him for many years as a receiver of stolen goods— GUILTY of receiving.
976. THOMAS BYWORTH was again indicted for burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Lucking, and stealing twenty-eight spoons, four sauce-ladles, and 12l. in money. Second Count—Receiving the same.
ELIZABETH LUCKING . I am the wife of William Lucking, An auctioneer, of 2, Linden Cottages, Brixton Road—on 19th September last I went out, about 7 o'clock in the evening, and returned about 8.20—I left the house quite safe, with no one in it—on my return I found the gate in front of the house unlocked, and the street-door open—I had locked them before I went out—I missed a quantity of property, worth about 50l.—these spoons were amongst the property stolen—I can swear to them.
Cross-examined. Q. Is there anything else? A. Yes, this cheese-scoop—I know them by the initials on them all.
WILLIAM MCNATH (Detective Serjeant D). I took the prisoner on the other charge—I asked him if he occupied the whole of the house—he said he did, and that the property in it belonged to him—I went into the first floor back room—I saw the prisoner's wife snatch a bag from the top of a chest of drawers, and put it under her apron—I asked her what she had got, and she said "Nothing"—I lifted up her apron and took this bag from her, and found the articles which have been produced—I asked the prisoner how he accounted for the possession of them, and he made no reply.
JOHN CARTER (Police Detective). I went with McNath and assisted in searching the house—I found this spoon amongst a quantity of plated goods—the prisoner said they were his, and he had had them for years, and that he had them when he was in the trade.
MRS. LUCKING (re-examined). This is my spoon.
GUILTY of Receiving— Eighteen Months Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. RIBTON and GRIFFITHS the Defence
NATHANIEL NOTTAGE . I live at 6, Albert Place, Thatcham Road, and am a pork butcher—the prisoner is a spiced beef and sausage maker—on 13th October, about 2.15 or 2.20, I was on the prisoner's premises—I had been employed there for about eighteen months—the deceased man, Swift, was also in his employment—Swift was addicted to drink, and he was the worse for liquor on the day in question, but I have seen him do his work when he was in a worse state than he was then—I came into the please about 2.15 or 2.20, and saw Mr. Lister and Swift quarrelling—I heard
Lister say to Swift, "You talk about my wife," and he struck him in the face, and knocked him down by the strap wheel of the machine—he got up again and Lister knocked him down again across the horse-track—he got up again and Lister knocked him down again by the smoke hole—Swift got up and said, "Have mercy on an old man"—I said to him, "Charley, go home"—he was coming past the filling machine to get out into the arch-way, when Mr. Lister picked him up and threw him into the copper—the copper was about three yards from the filling machine—Swift was going out, and Lister picked him up by the trowsers and threw him into the copper with his face downwards—head formost—the copper was three parts full of water, and about three parts boiling—it was a fifty-five gallon copper—as he was thrown in, his legs were sticking out—I was about two yards away from him at the time—I did not interfere to save the man, it was done momentarily—my brother was there, and Mr. Lister's brother, I believe—I did not see the traveller there, I believe he ran away—I gave information to the police—previous to doing so I assisted the prisoner in picking Swift out of the copper—I said to him "You have done something, now help me to pick him out," and he did so—he caught hold of him on one side, and I the other—I went for a doctor first—I brought a policeman, and somebody said that Swift had fallen in—Swift said, "I was picked up bodily and thrown in"—the prisoner made no reply to that—I was not related to Swift.
Cross-examined. Q. You say the prisoner picked him up, what do you mean by that? A. As the man was coming along he picked him up by hit trowsers and threw him over his shoulder—they were not struggling together at all—I swear that—I know Dr. Simpson—I went him down—I was not there when he came in—the policeman went in—I went the policeman down first—I don't remember hearing Lister say that they had struggled together, and the man fell into the copper—I don't remember the policeman turning to me and asking me if that was true—I did not hesitate and then say it was true—I swear that I said nothing like it—I was in such a fright I don't know what passed—I could not tell what the policeman said, or the doctor—I know what I said—I did not say it was true that they had struggled together; I think not—I saw Mr. Allingham when I went for the doctor—I said to him, "Come down at once, a man has tumbled into the copper at Lister's factory"—I said that, because Mr. Simpson being Lister's medical man, I did not know what to say—I thought of I had told him the man was thrown in he would not come down—Swift had wooden clogs on—the copper was about 2ft. 9 in. high, I should think—Swift was about 5ft. 6 in.—he might be taller—it is not a very large place where the copper is—I should think it was about 6ft. acres, but not where the copper was, that is narrower—of course if they were stuggling they must come against the copper in a narrow place like that, but they were not struggling at all—I have known the prisoner three years—I was working for him at this time.
JURY. Q. Did the prisoner take hold of Swift from behind, or in front? A. In front.
WALTER NOTTAGE . I am brother of the last witness—I am not employed at the prisoner's factory, but I was at work there that day—I went there about 7.15 in the morning, and remained till dinner-time—I came back from dinner, about 2.20 or 2.30, with my brother—Mr. Lister and Swift were in the factory—Swift was quarrelling—he was not sober—they were having words; I did not hear what they were—I saw the prisoner knock
Swift down against the strap of the machine—he got up and then he knocked him against the track machine where the horse goes round—he got up and went towards the smoke-hole, and he knocked him down against the smoke-hole—Swift said, "Dick, have pity on an old man"—she got up and came towards the copper, to the filling board—Lister came up and said that were younger men in the place, and he would fight any man that was then—Swift was making his way out—he stopped against the copper and Mr. Lister caught him by the thighs of his trowsers and threw him into the copper—there were no words exchanged then—Swift was standing up against the copper—there was no struggle—his body went in first—his legs did not go in—my brother said to the prisoner, "You have done something now'—he assisted to pick him out—I went out when the doctor came—I heard the prisoner say the old man had robbed him, and been a vagabond to him—I stopped there till about 9.30 that night—I was there when the constable and the doctor came, and I heard Swift say that he was picked up and thrown into the copper—the prisoner made no reply—his brother was then when the constable came—I think the traveller ran out.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear the prisoner say that they had been struggling together, and that the man fell into the copper? A. No, I did not—I did not hear the policeman ask my brother whether that was true or not, and say that he must answer—there was no struggle that I saw—Swift had been in about ten minutes before me—the first I saw, was Mr. Lister knock him down as I opened the door—what Swift had being doing before that, of course I don't know—I saw Golding there, and the prisoner's brother—I had not known Swift many weeks—I did not hear him challenge Lister to fight—nothing of the sort—there was no struggle—he took him by the front part of the thighs of his trowsers—they were facing each other—Swift was not coming on towards the prisoner—he was standing close against the copper.
JURY. Q. Did the prisoner follow the deceased from where he had previously been, and come up to him? A. Yes.
MR. PATER. Q. Was Golding the traveller of the prisoner? A. I believe so—he was not there at the time Swift was thrown into the copper—I am certain about that—I don't know whether the prisoner was sober or not.
COURT. Q. What aged man was the deceased? A. He was an oldish man, I can't tell you exactly.
STEPHEN SMITH (Policeman R 225). On the afternoon of 13th October, Nathaniel Nottage came to me, and from what he said, I went to the prisoner's premises—the prisoner opened the door to us—I asked him what was the matter—he said, "Nothing"—I stepped in, and saw the medical man there—I asked him what was the matter—he said a man had fallen into the copper, pointing to Swift, who was then standing against the machine, about two yards from the copper—I said, "I have been informed that he has been thrown into the copper"—the prisoner said, "It is no such thing, we were wrestling together, and he fell into the copper"—the deceased made no remark at that moment—the medical gentleman and I walked towards the copper, and were speaking about the height, and the deceased said, that it was nothing so hot as it would be that he should have to put up with when he got to hell—the prisoner was standing by, and the deceased said, looking at him, "You b—, you picked me up and threw me into the copper"—he repeated that three or four time—the prisoner made no
reply—the deceased appeared to be very much the worse for liquor—the prisoner appeared quite sober.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner use the word "Accidentally? A. I believe he did—I said to Nathaniel Nottage, "Did he throw him in or did he fall in?"—he did not answer at first, and then he said, "They were wrestling"—he would not say decidedly, whether he fell in, or whether he was thrown in.
MR. PATER. Q. Do you mean he would not answer, or that he used the words, "I can't say decidedly?" A. He said they were wrestling, but he would not say decidedly whether he fell in or was thrown in—he did not say, "They had a struggle, and what Lister says is true"—I did not notice whether the floor was wet and greasy—it was Nathaniel Nottage who brought me to the house—he told me the man had been thrown into the copper.
BRANTFORD EDWARDS . I was house-surgeon at Guy's, Hospital when the deceased was brought there, on 13th October—he was severely scalded over the chest, back, arms, hands, and face—the skin was destroyed in many places—he was in considerable danger—he died on the 16th—I made a post-mortem examination—I found congestion of the brain and lungs; the usual appearance after death from scald—the scald was the cause of death—I was in attendance on him from the time he was brought in till he died—I should think he was the worse for liquor when he was brought in, but I could not say very positively for the injuries.
HENRY CHANDLES (Inspector E). I went to the premises on the night of the 16th—I measured the height of the copper—it was 2ft. 9 in.; the diameter was 28 in., and the depth 22 in.—the copper stands on the angle of a passage—there is not room for more than two persons to walk abreast there.
The, Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "On the morning of the accident Swift came to work. He was very dull about the, eyes, and appeared to be hardly sober then. He went to his work till breakfast time, when he asked for money. I refused him, as I told him he was half drunk then. He pulled down his sleeves, and went backwards, and said he would do no more work till he got some money. I went to market, and left him there. When I came back, he came rolling across the place very drunk, and I begged him to go away and come again the next morning, when he was sober. He threw down his hat, and said he was an Irish Cockney, and he must fight it out with me He had a potatoes and some ribbons hinging to his hat, and he came up to me with his fists up, and said ho would have it out there. I pushed him away, and pushed him down twice, and told him to go away, but he would not I caught hold of him, and said, "Now you shall go." I caught him round the waist. When he got to the side of the copper, he caught his foot, either against the copper or the bench, and accidently went into the copper. He was no sooner in than I pulled him out, not knowing whether there was any water in it, or whether it was hot or not His shirt was taken off, and some oil and floor put on him, and after that he said again he was an Irish Cockney, and would have it out. I told him to go to the hospital, and by that time the doctor and the police came."
Witnesses for the Defence.
CHARLES LEWIS GOLDING . I am town traveller to Mr. Lister—I was at the factory on this morning, and saw the deceased there—he was drunk after dinner, and challenged Mr. Lister to fight—he said he was an Irish
Cockney, and he wore the colours—he had in his hat a raw potatoes and some violet ribbon—he said, "Dick, you have had your game this morning, I will have mine out now; you are a young man and I am an old one, and we will find it out—Mr. Lister told him to go off the premises, and come when he was sober—he said he would not go—he insisted on fighting—his hands were" clasped, and he came forward to Mr. Lister, and I believe his was about to strike him—Mr. Lister shoved him away with his left hand, and I noticed particularly that his hand was open—the deceased fell because he had clogs on, and ho was very drunk—he came up to Mr. Lister again, and ran at him, and Mr. Lister shoved him away with his right hand, and he fell again near the copper—I then went out to get a policeman, and I saw no more—the floor about the copper was always wet and greasy—Swift had asked Mr. Lister in the morning for some money, and he refused to give it him, as he knew he wanted it for drink, and Swift said he would have money before he went to work, and he put down his sleeves.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been town traveller to tin prisoner? A. Nearly two years, but I have been in his employment about three—I did not see the prisoner knock the old man down—he shoved him with his open hand—he did not strike him in my presence—I went to got a constable, because Swift was a dangerous man; he had more than owe threatened to severely injure me.
WILLIAM LISTER . I am the prisoner's brother—I was at the factory the day this happened—I saw Swift come in—he was very drank indeed—of hid a potatoes in his hat with a ribbon on it—he pulled it off and laid it on the bench facing the copper, and said to my brother, "You have had your lark this morning, Dick, and now I will have mine," and he clenched his fist to fight—the prisoner said, "Charley, you are drank; go off my premises, and come to work to-morrow morning, when you are sober"—he said he was an Irish Cockney, and had Irish blood in him, atfd wore the colours, and he would fight for them—his fists were clenched—he went very close to my brother, and made as if he was going to fight him—my brother pushed him away, and he fell, and he did so a second time, after persuading him to leave the premises—a struggle ensued after he was pushed down the second time along the side of the copper, and Swift fell into the copper during the struggle—the floor was very greasy indeed, and very wet—the deceased wore very large clogs—he slipped before he fell into the copper—his feet went from under him, and he went right over into the copper, head first—my brother immediately pulled him out—the deceased would stand about 5ft. 9 in. his clogs.
Cross-examined. Q. Where were you during the struggle, in the first instance? A. Standing in the archway—I did not hear Nathaniel Nottage say, "You have done a fine thing now"—the prisoner pushed Swift three times—I did not hear him say, "Have pity on an old mon"—I was present when the constable came in, but I don't remember—t took the old man to the hospital—I did not hear him say that the prisoner had thrown him into the copper—I was running about, and putting the horse into the cart, ready to take him to the hospital—I did not know what the constable had come about—I know Nathaniel Nottage went out and sent the constable, but I did not know why he had come.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you see Nottage go out? A. Yes, I saw them both go out, after the man was in the copper—neither of them were sober.
JURY to STEPHEN SMITH. Q. When Nathaniel Nottage came to you, was
he sober or drink? A. He appeared to be sober—his brother was quite sober, and so was the prisoner.
JURY to CHARLES GOLDING. Q. Did you bring a policeman in with you? A. No—I did not succeed in finding one, and I thought it might possibly blow over—I thought Swift would very likely get locked up, and I did not want to do anything of that sort.
GEORGE SIMPSON . I am a surgeon, and was called to the factory to see Swift—I heard the prisoner say they had struggled together, and the man fell in the copper—the policeman asked Nathaniel Nottage if that was the case—he hesitated—the policeman said, "You must tell the truth," and Nottage then said it was true they had a struggle, and that what Lister said was true—I saw the two Nottage's—they were not tipsy; but I could notice they had had a little to drink.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean that either of them were the worse for liquor? A. No—I mean they were not exactly sober—I mean Nathaniel—he certainly conveyed to me the impression that he was the worse for liquor.
COURT. Q. You said just now he was not? A. Well he was not tipsy; but he had been taking more than I had that day—he was not excited—I can't exactly describe it to you—I am the medical adviser to the prisoner, his wife, and family—I did not hear the deceased say, in answer to the prisoner's remark, that it was done in the straggle; that the prisoner had thrown him into the copper—I heard him make that statement; but not in answer to the prisoner—I asked him, when I get there, what had happened, and he said he had been thrown into the copper—I think he said the prisoner was the man.
Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, believing it to be done under the influence of the moment, and under great provocation.— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. RIBTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
980. WILLIAM MORRIS (36), and HARRIET MORRIS (37), five indictments for feloniously stealing and receiving two coats and various other articles, of Joseph Asman and others, WILLIAM MORRIS having been before convicted, in May, 1866**— Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude, HARRIET MORRIS— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. ROLLAND conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK DUCK . I am a leather dresser, at Swan Yard, Bermondsey—about 6.2 on the morning of 16th October, I went down stairs and saw the prisoner standing behind the door—he had my coat on, and this umbrella in his hand—I pounced on him, and asked what he wanted there—he said, "It is all right"—I took the umbrella out of his hand—I got him into the
yard, and we had a violent struggle—I got him to the gate, called a policeman, and gave him into custody—he then said, "Oh! this is your cost." and he pulled it off and threw it down—he had things stuffed in the pockets—my house had been entered by the back window—I had shut it the night before—it was open when I went down—the things were all safe when I went to bed.
Prisoner. I was drunk, and do not know anything at all about it.
CHARLES FISHER (Policeman M 59). About 6 o'clock on the morning of 16th October, I saw the prisoner and the last witness struggling together—I went up, and took the prisoner into custody—he was wearing this hat—the coat was lying on the ground by the side of him—I found a shawl, a waistcoat, and shirt—the things were all identified by the prosecutor—I found the back window open, the prisoner was perfectly sober.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COLE conducted the Prosecution; MR. TURNER defended Holmes, and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Hall
JOHN ROSS (Policeman V 265). On 7th August, about 3 o'clock in 1st afternoon, I was on duty in Church Road, Battersea—I saw the two prisoners there with a horse and cart—I followed them to a landing place on the river, and saw a barge lying there called the John—there were three other men there—they went on board the barge, and I saw them take from it twelve cases which I afterwards found contained brandy, and ten packages which I found contained linen—they all loaded the things in the cart—after they were loaded I went down, and asked a man named Robert Wilton, what he had there—he did not give me any account of it, and I took him into custody for the unlawful possession of the goods—the prisoners were present—Wilton said, "I know nothing of it, I have been engaged by that man, pointing to Holmes, to day, for 15s.; I was to take the goods from here to Limehouse"—I told a man to go and apprehend him, but he and Hall, and a man not in custody, jumped into a boat, crossed the river, and got out on the Chelsea side—I am perfectly certain the prisoners are the persons I saw.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. There were five men there? A. Yes—Holmes was on the barge—it was next to the landing place—then were several other barges there—I did not know that Holmes was a lighterman before—it was just after high water when I saw them—just the time when barges would unload—it was nearly a month after when Holmes was taken into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. You addressed yourself first of all to Wilton? A. He was the first man I took into custody—he told me Holmes he I engaged him—he was discharged because he was employed by Holmes.
JOSEPH BUNYAN (Policeman H 84). I was with the last witness on 7th August—I saw the two carmen with the horse and cart—the two prisoners were on the barge—I was told to arrest Holmes, and he and Hall and another man made their escape from the barge, in a boat that was lying alongside—I am certain the prisoners are the two men—I saw them together about 1 o'clock at the Swan public-house, Battersea.
JAMES JACOB SMITH . I am a Custom-house officer, and live at 6, Portland place, Mile End Road—I have seen the cases of brandy—I had charge of them on 6th August—I sold them into a tug called the Stoke—there were 200 cases, all numbered—I delivered them to a lighterman named Everett—he was with me, and took charge of them.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. What was the lime of the tide that day? A. It was high water about 2 o'clock—when the goods were loaded into the barge it was about high water.
CHARLES EVERETE . I live at 236, Albany Street, Camberwell—I am a lighterman, in the employ of Mr. Thomas Moore—I took charge of these cases on 6th August—this (produced) is the lid of one of the cases—I saw them about 5.30 o'clock, and missed them on the 9th.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. You know the prisoners as lightermen? A. I know them by sight.
ROBERT WILTON . I live at 17, Catherine Street, Poplar—I am a carrier—on 7th August, about 9.15, Holmes came to my house—he asked me to convey some packages and cases from Battersea to Limehouse—I was to have 15s. for the job—I took the horse and cart direct to Battersea—Holmes and Smith went with me—Smith went to help me—we went to the Swan at Battersea, and I saw Hall and another man there—Holmes said the things would not be ready for some time—it was about 2 o'clock then—I waited a little time and he then told me to go round to the wharf and load the things up—he walked on and I followed him down to the wharf—Smith went with me—I saw Holmes on the barge—I did not see Hall—Smith handed the packages to me and I put them in the cart—we were just going away when we were stopped—I did not observe Hall there—I don't know who handed the things to Smith.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. You very often have to unload barges at the river side? A. We have jobs sometimes—I had not done work for Holmes before—there was a tall man at the Swan, with Holmes and Hall—when the police came up, I was on the cart, getting the last case in—the cart was within four yards of the barge—Homes was about four yards from me to the barge—the policeman took me into custody at once, and Smith also—I was examined three or four times at the Police Court—I I had no idea anything was wrong—I went about it just as I should any other job.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Were you there all the time Smith was there? A. Yes; I went to get my dinner while he minded the cart at the Swan—I was there all the time he was leading the goods.
JAMES SMITH . I live at 2, Catherine Street, North Woolwich—I went with Wilton, on 7th August, to Battersea—Holmes went with us—I saw Hall there about five minutes after we got there—I waited outside the Swan with the cart—I went down with, Wilton to the barge, and put the cases in the cart—they were handed to me by one of the prisoners, I can't say exactly which it was—they were both on beard, and chucked the cases on shore—I am certain Hall was on the barge.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Where was Wilton? A. On the cart, I was on shore—I should think Wilton could see into the barge.
HENRY WILLIAM SMITH . I live at 13, Clarence Street, Rotherhithe, and am a barge owner—I have a barge of the name of John—on 5th August Holmes came to mo, and wanted to know if I could lend him a barge on hire—I said I had only one, and she was not ready to go out; I was doing
a little repairs to her—he asked me when he could have her, and I said the next morning—he came and took her away on the 6th.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. You had let him barges before A. Once.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. He was alone when he came? A. Yes.
CHARLES EVERETT (re-examined). There are two Johns, one is a boat and the other a barge—one belonged to Mr. Moore, and one to Mr. Smith—the one belonging to Mr. Smith is a different one altogether—these cases are my employer's property—the prisoner had no authority to remove them—I was in sole charge of them—my employer is not here—I am foreman to him and manage his business in his absence.
HOLMES— GUILTY .
He was further charged with having been before convicted, in June, 1865, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude.
HALL— GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. KELLY conducted the Protection.
WILLIAM HOCKLEY . I live at Little King Street, Old Kent Road—on the morning of 3rd October, about 1 o'clock, I was in the Old Kent Road—as I was going across the road, I was set on by two or three men—I was in liquor—as soon as I collected myself together, I found my pocket turned inside-out, and 3s. 6d. gone—I saw the prisoner held by the officer.
Prisoner. Q. Did not the policeman say to you, "Say you have lost 3s. 6d.?" A. Not to my knowledge—I had no occasion to say that.
JAMES HAYNES (Police man M 228). I was on duty in the Old Kent Road, about 1 o'clock on the 3rd October—I saw the prisoner going along, the worse for liquor—I turned round to look down my beat, and saw a man run from the opposite side of the road—I ran back, and saw three men—the prisoner had the prosecutor by the throat, and the other two had their hands in his pocket—he said, "Oh! you are robbing me"—they let go, and struck him and kicked him on the ground—I seized the prisoner by the throat before he could get from the spot—the prosecutor got up from the ground, and I asked him what he had lost, and he said 3s. 6d.—his pockets were inside-out—I took the prisoner to the station—his three companions came round me, and I had to draw my truncheon to keep them off—I did not tell the prosecutor that he was to say he had lost 3s. 6d.—he called out that he was being robbed.
He was further charged with having been before convicted in August, 1867, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude, and Twenty-five Lashes with the Cat.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; MR. COLE defended Perry, and MR. TURNER defended Green.
JOSEPH ROBINSON . I live at London Road, Southwark, and am a paper manufacturer—on 25th September Green came to my shop, and said his employer had taken a shop in the neighbourhood, and had instructed him to buy papers for him—I said, "Will you take patterns?"—he said, "No,
he left it to me to select the patterns"—he selected sixty-eight pieces of paper—he said, "Never mind the invoice, send it with the goods, and the money will be paid"—the address he gave me was 98, Kennington Road—I sent them on the Monday following, by Michael Meyers, and gave him instructions not to leave them without the money—Meyers brought the goods back, and not the money—in consequence of what he told me I sent him again, next day, with them—he came back then without the goods, and without to money—he brought this card with him—in consequence of what I read upon that card, I went to Grimscote Street, Bermondsey, and made inquiries for a Mr. J. Perry, but could find no such person there on the following day, Wednesday, I went to 98, Kennington Park Road, and saw Green—I asked him why he took the goods away from the boy—he said, "The money is all right"—I said, "As a man of business, you ought to know better; he told you he was not to leave the goods without the money"—he said I should have the money by 4 o'clock, when he would see Mr. Perry—I left him—he called on me the same evening—he said Mr. Perry had not been to the place, and I should have the money early in the morning—he did not come again—I went to 98, Kennington Park Road again, and saw Perry—I asked him who took the goods in, and he said he did—I said I thought it was Green, and he said, "No, I did"—I told him I had called about the money, and he said he would see Mr. Perry about it—I asked Mr. Perry's address; but he said he could not give it me—I asked for his address, and he said, "You will always find me here, I am employed by Mr. Perry"—I asked him his name, and after some time he said his name was Smith—I asked him who the man was who had ordered the goods; at first he said he was a stranger to him, and then, before I left, he said his name was Green—he did not know where he lived, or anything about him—I said, "Possibly Mr. Perry is a myth, and there is no such person"—he said, "Oh, yes there is, I get my money from him, and see him every night"—it was quite contrary to my orders that the goods were parted with without the money—I went to 7, Lambeth Walk, a week or so after, and saw some of my goods there—there were ten pieces of paper—part of the quantity I had sent by Meyers to 98, Kennington Park Boad—about 100 yards altogether—the sixty-eight pieces, altogether, would be about 700 yards.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. Had you done business with Perry before this transaction? A. No—I knew him before—I do a pretty large business, as much as I can—I give credit to very few persons—I usually give directions not to leave goods without the money—I can't swear that it has ever happened before that goods have been left without the money—I believe they have in one or two cases—I did not enter this transaction in any book—the boy brought the invoice back with the receipt taken off—I only keep one book—a sort of debtor and creditor—I have very few credit accounts, it is all cash—I was angry at not getting my money, possibly I spoke in rather an angry tone.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. When Green called upon you he said the goods were for his governor? A. Yes—I went on the same day that the boy left the goods, to Grimscote Street—I next saw Green on the Wednesday—he did not speak of Perry as his governor then—Perry represented himself as a paper-hanger, Green did not—some of the paper was hung in the parlour—the shop was shut—Perry said he was going to open it as a shop—I did not go again to the house till I went with the officer—there
were only about five pieces of paper there then—I did not go into the room till I went with the officer—I looked through the window—I never asked them to give me the paper back—I did not get it back—I should have been satisfied if I had got the money—if I had got the goods as they had been sent out I should have said nothing—the lad told me that he had asked for Mr. Perry's address when he came back on the second occasion, and someone wrote it on the card—that was on the Tuesday—he told me that they had said he was in a large way of business, and anyone could find it—I don't know who said that—the boy said something about them sending the money.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Q. You say you knew the prisoner by the name of Perry, before; how long before? A. I remember him as shop man to Mr. Goldsmith, who owed me some money some time before—when the boy came back on the Tuesday, he said the writing on the card was the address of Mr. J. Perry, and that he was a miller, in a large way of business, on the right hand side of the road—I could not find such a person.
MICHAEL JOSEPH MEYERS . I am in the employment of Mr. Robinson—on Monday, 25th September, I was sent with sixty-eight pieces of paper, to 98, Kennington Park Road—I had a bill with the receipt on it—I was not to leave the goods without the money—I saw Perry at the house—he said his name was Smith, and he was doing the paper-hanging, and painting the place, and they were waiting for the paper, as they had got nothing to go on with—he said Mr. Perry had been waiting there all the morning, and could not wait any longer, and had gone home—I said, "Can you tell me where he lives?"—he said, "Somewhere down at Bermondsey"—he said, "You can leave them, the money is right enough"—I said, "Master gave me orders not to leave them without the money," and I took them back again with the bill—I went the next day, and saw Perry again—he said, "I have seen Mr. Parry last night, and he will be here every minute"—I waited an hour and three-quarters, and he said, "It is no good your waiting now, because he won't be here; I think he was going to the bank to get a cheque asked, you had better leave the goods; I would not let you leave them if the money was not all right"—he wrote on a card, "J. Perry, Grimscote Street, Bermondsey," and said he was a miller, is a large way of business, on the right hand side of the way—I said, "Do you know what number?"—he said "I don't exactly know the number, but he is well known down there"—he also said that Mr. Perry was angry because I did not leave them on the Monday; that he would call and pay for the goods, as he wanted about hundred pieces more—I was persuaded to leave them—he said, "How much is the bill?"—I showed it him, and he tore the receipt off the bottom and gave it me back—he kept the bill—I took the receipt and card home to Mr. Robinson—he said his own name was James Smith—I called again the next day for the money, and the prisoner said his orders were that Mr. Perry would call down at 4 o'clock and order some more things—he said, "The money is all right; I would not like to get you into trouble."
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Q. What is your age? A. Seventeen next birthday—I have been six months in Mr. Robinson's service—I only took out goods once before on credit, to Clapham Junction, and then Mr. Robinson had a good reference.
BENJAMIN ROLAND . I live at 87, Lambeth Walk, and am a pawnbroker—on 28th September Green came to me—he said his name was Wilson, and he had got some paper for sale—I said I did not want any paper—but
my wife said she should like some for her bedroom—he laid he had taken it for a bad debt, and wanted to get rid of it—he brought the paper to me—Perry came with him to the front door—there were thirty-eight pieces—he asked me 30s. for them—I told him I could not give him to amah, and theft he asked me 12s.—I ultimately gave him 7sa 5d. for the let—this is the receipt he gave me at the time—I saw him sign his name, "Thomas Wilson"—I afterwards showed the paper to Mr. Robinson, and he identified it.
WILLIAM GEORGE BUNDT (Police-Detective L). I took Perry into custody on 11th October, at 98; Kennington Park Road, on a warrant—I read it to him—he said, "I did not order them, the boy left them"—I asked him his name, and he refitted to answer any questions at all—Green was brought to the station on the following day—I read the warrant to him, and told him I should apprehend them for obtaining these goods—"I only ordered them for Mr. Perry"—he gave the name of Thomas Wilson, and afterwards he said it was Green.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. Are you sure it was not Thomas Wilson Green? A. He turned it to that afterwards—I did not know that was his name—he said he had ordered the goods for Mr. Perry.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment each.
MR. ROBERTS. I am a registrar in the Seamen's Office, and live at 25, Chester Street, Kennington—on Saturday, 11th September, between 11 and 12 o'clock, I was in the White Bear, Kennington Road, in the skittlelley—I hung my coat on a peg—I washed my hands before leaving, and then went in and saw Billington with his hand in the pocket of my coat, which bung on a nail—I said. "You are picking my pocket," and struck him, but not to mark him"—he cried out "Oh! and Buras, who was there, struck me a violent blow on the nose—I put my coat to and escaped out at the door, and Burns gave me another blow in the same place—I then got outside, and they both came out and seized me and knocked me about, and I called out—I was smothered with blood—it was dart, and I could not see—I went to the bar, and the people there wiped the blood from my face, end then I missed my watch and chain, which I had handled a minute before I went in for my coat, and I believe I looked at the time—I also missed a pocket-book, a pipe, and some tobacco—not a thing was left in my pockets—the waiter came up to me when I cried out, and as soon as the prisoners saw him they escaped up the yard—I am sure these are the men—I had had no drink to hurt; no more than usual; three or four glasses—one man struck me in the place, but I do not know how many struck me outside—I only saw the prisoner in the place, bat there may have been another man—I went there between 6 and 7 o'clock, but only sat down and watched—they all seemed very respectable.
Cross-examined. Q. Where had you been to? A. I only had a walk—I was watching these people play from 6 or 7 o'clock to between 11 and 12 o'clock—I do not know that I had more than three glasses of ale, and no spirits—I did play at skittles—there were a dozen persons in the skittle
ground at one time or another, but only these to when I went in for my coat—the others had gone when I returned from washing my hands—I looked at my watch after I had washed my hands—I passed nobody else.—Billington remained in the skittle-alley after I told him he was picking my pocket—I was blind, and cannot say whether he came up to mo again—the prisoners were the only two who I saw follow me out; if there were any others they must have been concealed—I did not see either of them touch my waistcoat—my watch was in my waistcoat pocket—it was dark, and I do not know which of them took my watch—Burns came into the skittte. ground a little before this happened—he was there when I went in for my coat—there arc two skittle-alleys, but I did not know of the other one—the prisoners were both where my coat was.
COURT. Q. Is the skittle-ground open to the road? A. They can go in from the road, or from the bar—I played at skittles for half an hour, and my coat was hanging up the whole time I was playing—I swear that nobody struck me but the two prisoners—they took the watch and chain outside—I put my coat on before I struck Billington, and then found that I had nothing in my pockets, but my watch was in my waistcoat—when I found I had lost everything, I struck Billington—I did not call the waiter then.
MR. LINGFOBD. Q. In order to reach the skittle-alley, have you to go up a garden? A. No—there is a back door at the top of the garden, leading to the bar—I only saw the two prisoners about me after I was struck. Billington. My coat was hanging by the side of yours, and when I put it on you came and laid hold of me, and said, "I accuse you of putting your hand in my pocket" I said if you think so, search me," and you tore the sleeve out of my coat, and struck me on the nose, and nearly knocked me senseless. I had my hat knocked off, and somebody, I believe it was Charles, the waiter, said, "Whose hat is this?" I said, "It is mine." He said, "Where is that gentleman's hat?—I said, "I don't know, I believe I threw it somewhere." Anybody can go into this ground. It began to rain, and I went home to bed. I went into the City so see for employment, and pasted the police-station two or three times, and the policeman took me in charge. You were washing yourself against the kitchen door, where there were half-a-dozen round you. Witness. No, that was after I had lost my watch, I was washing the blood off.
CHARLES ALFRED TEWSLEY , I am waiter at the White Bear—the skittle ground is about thirty yards from the road—on Saturday night, 11th September, between 4 and 8 o'clock, Mr. Roberts came in and played at skittles occasionally till 11.30—Burns came in about 10.45—I had never seen him before—about 11.30 or 11.40 I heard cries for help, and a dog barking, and I saw the prisoner and Billington engaged in a scuffle, and as I came out Burns ran down the path—after that I picked up a hat—Burns then came back, up the yard, and passed through the bar—he pushed his way through everybody, and Mr. Roberts happened to stand first—that was while Roberts was having the blood washed off his fuel—I gave bock the hat to Billington, and Billington picked up Mr. Roberts' hat, which was a sort of alpaca one—nobody was running away—I called the potman, and told him to stop that man (Billington) as he had got Mr. Roberts' hat—he had his own hat then, he had pitched it behind, in the water-butt—I have known Billington three years—I thought he was going to steal the hat, because he had his own at the same time, and therefore he knew it was not his—Roberts appeared sober.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose there were several people in the skittle-ground? A. I do not know, I think not—I was called by Roberta' ones; but did not go into the skittle-ground, only to the door—it was dark, 11.30—this was in the pathway leading to the back premises—I saw no one with Roberts but Billington; but Burns was just leaving him—he went towards the back premises—I saw his face, he passed close to me, and ran away from me, from the back door towards the back premises—he came back after—that was when he scuffled up against Roberts, when I heard the cry, and saw Roberts and Billington and a man running away—that man's back was towards me—about the time that Roberts went into the public-house, to wash his face, Burns passed—I feed sure that Roberts was not the worse for drink; if he was, it was not perceptitle—I said before the Magistrate that if he was the worse for drink it was slight—he had beer during the six hours he was at our house; but there were several others to drink it—I did not serve him—I only judge from His manner, when he had the blow.
MR. LANGFORD. Q. Do you remember what time Billington came in? A. No.
Billington. Q. Did not you ask me where his hat was, and did not I say I threw it somewhere, and did not I look for it? A. I desired the potman not to let you go until you gave up the bat—it was behind a water-butt.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 22nd NOVEMBER, 1869.