CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SIXTH SESSION, HELD APRIL 3RD, 1871.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS & SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE.
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, April 3rd, 1871, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. THOMAS DAKIN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir ROBERT LUSH , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., and WARREN STORMES HALE, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNET , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir SIDNEY HEDLEY WATERLOW , Knt., ANDREW LUSK , Esq., M.P. and DAVID HENRY STONE , 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 Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq., Alderman
WILLIAM HALSE GATTY JONES, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
DAKIN, MAYOR SIXTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, April 3rd, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. F. H. LEWIS and HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
SOLOMON ZUCHER . I live at 26, King Street, Camden Town—I keep a shop there—I saw my shop safe about 9 o'clock in the morning of the 22nd January—I returned about 11.20 at night—I then found that my house had been entered; the door was broken open, the window was open, and property taken away to the amount of 60l. or 70l.—the jewellery produced is a portion of what I lost.
WILLIAM PALMER (Police Inspector). On 25th January I went to 26, Bedfordbury, and saw the prisoner in the passage of the house I asked if his name was Pearce—he said it was—I told him I was an inspector of police, and that I should search his apartments—he took me to the top of the house, to the door of the front room, which was looked—he said "I will go down stairs and get the key"—I said "No you won't, you don't leave here; take me to your rooms"—he then went down to the first floor—I went into the centre room, there are three rooms on a floor—on entering I saw a woman sitting at the fire, who the prisoner stated was his house-keeper, and a man sitting at the table, who I knew, with these articles of jewellery and this handkerchief in front of him, with a bottle of aquafortis, testing the chains—I said to that man, "Joe, go and sit down then, and remain quiet"—he sat down—I asked the prisoner how he accounted for that property—he said "He brought it," nodding to the other man, Joe—I then made a further search in the room, and in this carpet-bag I found a quantity of cigar-tubes and meerschaum pipes—I asked him to account for those—he said "He brought them," nodding to the man Joe—I have a list of the property I found in the room, I made it from the property then in my possession—in a chest of drawers I found a quantity of other cigar-tubes, and in various parts of the room I found the following property. (The witness read over a long list of articles of different descriptions.) I have not
got the bottle of aquafortis here—I asked whose bottle it was—the prisoner said "It is what I use in my business."
Cross-examined. I believe the prisoner had a shop on the groundfloor, at the back—the passage-door of the house was open when I went in—another officer went in first, I followed, rang the bell, and the prisoner came down—I had no search-warrant—he said Joe had brought the property there, he did not say it was for the purpose of testing it with his acid—I have no doubt the prisoner uses acid in his trade—I sent Joe away with Sergeant Littlechild, and a constable in uniform, whose name is Smith—I believe he made his escape—I directed Littlechild to return to me as quick as possible, Bedfordbury being a low neighbourhood—I gave directions to see him outside of Bedfordbury—when Joe escaped, Littlechild was not with him, he escaped from the other man in uniform; he is not here to-day—I have not seen Joe since; I have tried to find him—I reported the constable for allowing him to escape, and he was suspended for neglect of duty.
COURT. Q. Did you ask the prisoner anything about any of the other property? A. Yes; the whole of the property that I took away—I asked him to account for it, he said "It has been left with me at different times"—he did not say by whom.
JOSEPH GREENEBAUM . I am an importer of cigars, of 14, Edgware Road, Hyde Park—my house was broken into on 29th March, last year, and some things stolen—this pipe produced is my property, which was then stolen—it is worth six guineas.
HENRY WEST . I am an optician, of 98, Strand—in October last my shop at 4, Rupert Street, Haymarket, was entered, and I lost a number of articles—I find here some of the property I then lost; a little compass, a log glass, brass compasses, and a small barometer.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner twenty-three or twenty-four years—I have always looked upon him as a thoroughly respectable man, and the last man I should suppose would receive stolen goods.
Re-examined. He is a philosophical-instrument maker; he makes air-pumps and electrical machines—he does not deal in meerschaum pipes, that I know of, or gold chains.
MOBITZ GEBER . I am a tobacconist, of 37, Broad Street, Bloomsbury—on Saturday, 21st January, I left my house about 9 o'clock in the evening—when I returned on Sunday morning, I found it had been broken open and sundry articles stolen—here are twenty-eight cigar-tubes and pipes of mine—I lost more, and also a quantity of cigars of the same brand as those produced.
Cross-examined. The brand is "Regalia Fina"—it is not a common kind, it is called "Perfection"—I am not the only person who has them.
Re-examined. I bought the cigar-tubes of a traveller named Howes.
The COURT considered that there was no case for the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
ROBERT FARMER . I am assistant to Mr. William Ford Stanley, an optician, in Holborn—there was a burglary at my master's premises on 20th September, 1867, and another burglary on 24th September, 1889—I find here five opera-glasses, two barometers, and other scientific instruments, representatives of both burglaries.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EDWARD O'HARA . I live in Bullen's Court, Strand—in July last I called on the prisoner to turn some bagatelle balls for me—I went with him to a public-house kept by a man named Barham—at that time the prisoner was smoking a large meerschaum pipe covered with leather—while we were there a gentleman came into the bar and produced another pipe—I believe I should know it again—I believe this (produced). to be it, I put it in my mouth, and tried it, it was not coloured then so highly as it is now—when the man produced it he said "You have got a good pipe, but I think I have got a better"—the prisoner asked what he wanted for it—he said "2l. 10s."—the prisoner gave him 2l. for it; I saw the money pass—I think I have seen the prisoner with the pipe once since, he was smoking it, up in his room—I have known him about twelve years, in business transactions—he has always borne a good character; he does all my work for me.
Cross-examined. I never saw the man who sold the pipe, either before or since—it was in the afternoon—we had come from the prisoner's house, he was living in Bedfordbury—the public-house is at the top of Bedfordbury—I was in the habit of visiting Pearce on business—I don't know any one of the name of Joe—I am a billiard-table finisher and contractor—I have lived in Bullen Court for twenty years—I believe I have seen the pipe once since, up in the prisoner's private room, where I have often gone on a Sunday.
JOHN MANNING . To the best of my belief I have seen this pipe before, or one similar, in a public-house in New Street, Covent Garden, Mr. Pearce had it—I have seen it in several persons hands—I have seen Mr. Green smoking it—I have seen Mr. Pearce smoking it there and at other places.
Cross-examined. When he was smoking it the bowl had no wash-leather on it—I have seen him with it several times of an evening, two or three months ago.
Several witnesses deposed to the prisoner's good character.
GUILTY of receiving—Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. F H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. ST. AUBYN the Defence."
GEORGE CHAMBERS . I was in the employ of Messrs. Henry Webb & Co., butchers, in the Metropolitan Meat Market—on 29th January, 1870, my master sold three pigs to a butcher of the name of Golding—the prisoner came and asked for three pigs, in the name of Golding, and I let him have them because he came as Gelding's man—he said he was Mr. Gelding's man—I did not see him again before he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined. It is the custom for men to go and say they come from such and such butchers—they are supposed to have badges on.
the prosecutor's employment—I saw the three pig? going out of the shop, on the prisoner's baok—they were given to him by the last witness.
JOHN GOLDING . I am a butcher—on 29th January, 1870, I purchased three pigs of Messrs. Webb & Co.—I did not give the prisoner any authority to fetch them away—I did not know him, and never saw him till I saw him at Guildhall.
JOHN HARTOPP . I took the prisoner into custody for obtaining three pigs from Webb & Co., about twelve months ago—he said "It is not me"—the charge was read over to him at the station, and he made no reply.
Cross-examined. Before the men were licensed, it was the common practice for men to come and take away meat from the shops to the carts outside—they have been licensed nearly twelve months—but they were not at the time this affair took place—I never saw the prisoner at work in the market.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. I was employed by a man to fetch the pigs.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
GEORGE HEPBURN . I am a detective in the service of the Great Western Railway Company—on Saturday afternoon, 11th March, I saw the prisoner in Lisson Grove, and followed him—he went into a shop—I went in after him, and said "Jim, I want you for stealing a box from the Moorgate Street Station, on 23rd January last"—he said "All right;" and on the way to the police-station he said "I am very sorry; I would not have done it only I was drunk."
EDWARD CHILD . I am a constable on the Metropolitan Railway, stationed at Moorgate Street—a box, which I have seen since, was deposited in the cloak-room about 11 o'clock on the morning of 23rd January—I missed it about 2 o'clock—I had seen the prisoner loitering about in front of the station from 11 till 1 o'clock—he appeared to be drunk.
WALLACE MARMADUKE PICKTHALL . I am vicar of St. Mark's, Hatcham—this box belongs to my son—it was left in the cloak-room at the Moor-gate Street Station on 23rd January—it contained wearing apparel to the value of about 12l.
JESSIE RUSSELL . I live at 4, Guy Street, Vauxhall, and am the wife of Henry Russell—on Monday, 23rd January, between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening, I saw a box in the kitchen of my house—I have seen it since, and identified it—the prisoner was there, and another man of the name of Davies—they were taking the clothes out of the box—they stopped in my house that night—the prisoner said the clothes belonged to the other man, who was a pal of his—they were both drunk, but the prisoner was more in liquor than the other one—he went away the next day, and has been missing ever since.
THOMAS DAVIES . I am now a prisoner in the City prison, Holloway, under a sentence of nine months from last Sessions—I know the prisoner—on 23rd January I saw him in Stamford Street, Blackfriars Road—he had a box on a truck—he was walking along the side of the pavement, and a man was shoving the truck for him—the prisoner asked me to go and have some beer, and we all three went to a public-house
in Stamford Street—we stayed there about five minutes, and the prisoner then asked me to go to his lodging in Guy Street with him—the other man wheeled the truck—I don't know who he was—when we got to 4, Guy Street, I went into the back yard for about five minutes, and when I came back I found the box in the back-room—the man who wheeled the truck had gone then—the prisoner told me he lodged there—I slept with him—there were clothes in the box—he introduced Mrs. Russell as the landlady he rented the room from—he told me to give her a pot of jam, which I did—I took that out of the box—the next morning some of the clothes were taken out, and I pledged them for 7s.—the prisoner asked me to pledge them—I did so, and gave him the 7s.; he lent me 1s. 6s.—I only knew him by the name of Jim.
Prisoner's Defence. I was very drunk at the time. I went to the docks and met the party with the truck there. I have a very imperfect knowledge of what happened.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted this Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence
JOHN ALSOP . I am superintendent registrar of Newton Abbott, Devon—I produce a certificate in the handwriting of Mr. Elias Ford, the Registrar—I know the prisoner—she is the person referred to in that certificate, and was married to William Henry Fletcher on 5th April, 1863—I was present—I last saw him on 4th March, the day the case was heard at the Police Court (The Certificate was put in and read.) I have seen them on two or three occasions since the marriage—they lived together at Torquay for some time—the last time I saw them together was four years after, in 1867—I believe there was one child at that time.
Cross-examined. I saw them four years after the marriage, at the Police Court at Torquay—the wife made a charge there against her husband for not supporting her, and she was received into the workhouse, and I was directed to take proceedings against the husband, which I did.
Cross-examined. I am prosecuting this case—I knew her three months before the marriage—we lived at 7, Leinster Yard—it was her suggestion that we should be married—she asked me to make her an honest woman.
ALEXANDER PIKE (Detective X). I took the prisoner into custody and charged her—she made no reply—I found this certificate in her box in her room. (This was an extract from the Parish Register of a marriage at St. Peter's Church, on 5th April, 1870, between Timothy Fitzakerley, bachelor, and Annie Fletcher, spinster).
GUILTY — One Month's Imprisonment.
MR. BBINDLEY conducted the Prosecution.
it safe on the Wednesday—I know the prisoner—he was on board the ship on the Thursday morning—he brought one of the ship's compasses—he fixed the compass up, and then he said to me, "We will go up on the poop and see how it looks;" and I went up with him—he said, "It does not seem lively to me; I will go down and shake it a bit"—He went down and was about two minutes in the cabin, and then he came up holding his coat—this is the box that the barometer was in—it was worth about 3l.—I have not seen it since—the prisoner was the only one who had been in the cabin—I saw the barometer safe the day before—no one went into the cabin, after the prisoner, before I missed it—no one was in the cabin except myself and the mate—I was on board all the time—I slept on board in the cabin—it was kept on the cheffonier in the cabin.
COURT. Q. You are not in the cabin all the time, I suppose? A. I locked the cabin and gave the key to the mate when I went out—the captain was in the cabin sometimes—the carpenter would have nothing to do with the cabin—he was on the ship—there are two entrances to the cabin—the captain came on board on the Friday, and asked me about the barometer—I saw it safe on the Tuesday, and on the Wednesday I lifted up the case, and I could tell by the weight that it was in the case.
NOT GUILTY .
JOHN BARLOW . I am mate of the Juanpore, and I am now living at 16, York Square, Stepney—I was chief officer of the ship on 20th November—on that morning the captain and myself sent the second officer to call the prisoner into the cabin, in consequence of his showing mutinous conduct—he had been told to haul in the main brace, and he refused to do it—there was a squall—I was in my berth at the time, and I heard a disturbance on deck—the captain gave the prisoner some orders; I did not hear what they were—he repeated the orders, and the prisoner did not take any notice of them—I heard something said about irons—the captain told me, in the morning, the man had been disobedient, and had not obeyed his orders, and he was going to stand it no longer—he told me to put him in irons—the prisoner was sent for—he came down in the cabin, and the captain charged him with being mutinous on deck—the prisoner said he was not mutinous, and he would have to prove the mutiny—the captain said "I am going to put you in irons," and he told me to do so—we threw him on his back, and when he was down, I was trying to put the irons on his wrists, when I felt something sharp in my leg, above the knee—I turned round, and saw a knife in his hand—the second mate got hold of his hand, and tried to get the knife from him—I said "He has cut me above the knee"—the blood was spurting out—the carpenter came down the stairs, and put his foot on the prisoner's face, and said "Give that knife up"—the prisoner said "Don't you do anything, carpenter"—the carpenter said, again, "Give the knife up," and he gave it up—I said "Give me your hand, and put on the irons, and have done with it"—I put the irons on him, and after that he threatened the captain, and said he would have his life, if he lived 100 years, for it—it was a sheath knife, like a dagger.
Prisoner. The captain asked me what was the reason I did not obey his orders; you were standing in the passage at the time. Witness. He
asked why he had disobeyed his orders, and he said he had not disobeyed them—there were some words, but he got blustering, and raising his voice high.
COURT. Q. The captain had told him, before, that he would put him in irons? A. Yes; he gave me the orders, and I was carrying out my orders—I was not in the passage; I was behind the prisoner and the captain at the time—I did not see the knife in the sheath, before I was cut—I was kneeling down on him—he was thrown on his back, and I had my knees on his breast—the knife could not come into my knee without his doing anything; he must have had it in his hand—I did not see it in his hand until I was cut.
AUGUSTUS HALDHAM . I am captain of the Juanpore, now lying in the London Docks—on 20th November, early in the morning, I was on deck—it was a very bad morning—I told the prisoner to haul a certain rope in—I told him at least three times—he came, and said he wished I would call him by name for the future—it was so dark before, I could not see who he was—later in the day I called the prisoner into the cabin, and gave directions to put him in irons, and I told the mates to prepare themselves in the event of his using a knife—I asked him about his misconduct on the previous night, and he raised his voice very high and said he had not done anything; but he had committed himself on several occasions, and it was my intention to confine him for a time—as soon as I gave the orders to the mates, he drew the knife and said, "I will have some of your b—lives first"—my officers ran at him and got round him—this is the knife he had in his hand—I did not see him put the knife into the mate—I saw the blood.
Prisoner. I did not say I would have some of your lives; I said there would be a row first; that was the language I made use of.
Witness. I did not hear that expression—you wrote to me several times for wages which were due to you, but I did not think it was sufficient to defend your cause—it was 3l. 15s.—I did not know how to act—I thought I was not justified in sending it.
DAVID STEWART . I am the second mate of the Juanpore—I was present when this took place in the cabin—it was my watch on deck—the captain told me to send the man down in the cabin, and when I went down I found them struggling—I found this knife in the prisoner's hand—I took it from him after the carpenter threatened to put his foot on his face.
Prisoner. The witness held my hand, so that I could not let go the knife, and it wounded me.
JAMES RORISON . I am third mate of the Juanpore—I was in the cabin the day this took place—I heard the captain tell the mate to put this man in irons—as soon as the captain said that, he made a rush at the captain and drew a knife from the front of him, but where I can't say—I caught the prisoner by the wrist and we fell together in the passage—I said "Look out, he has got a knife," and in the struggle he cut me across the arm—I said "I am out," and I called out to the second mate to take the knife from him, and he subsequently got it away from him—the wound on the mate was inflicted after I was cut—he was struggling to use the knife—he got his arm free from me—if his arm had not been caught hold of, I think he would have done serious damage with the knife—he was struggling to get his arm free at the time the wound was inflicted.
day in question—I heard the second mate call O'Connor to the cabin—after that, I heard the prisoner ask a seaman named Plummer to lend him his knife, that he was going down in the cabin and he might want to use it—Plummer gave him the knife, and the prisoner went down in the cabin—soon after that I went down and saw the prisoner on the floor—he asked me for the knife about a quarter of an hour before he went down into the cabin.
Prisoner. When I asked him for the loan of his knife I was not aware I was going down to the cabin; Plummer says "Be quick with the knife;" it was a good ten minutes before I was asked to go down by the captain. Witness. You said you might want to use it.
GEORGE RAINE (Thames Policeman 54). The prisoner was given into my custody in irons—I told him I should have to take him to the station, and he said, "We had a bit of a must on board, and I was head foremost in it."
Prisoner's Defence (written). "I was splicing a rope on the forehatch. I wanted a knife, and I called a man named Plummer, as I was in the habit of using his knife when I had any heavy work to do. Plummer gave me the knife, The second mate came to me and said 'The captain wants to speak to you in the cabin.' I went down, and he said 'What is the meaning of your giving me abusive language?' I said "I did not do anything.' He jumped up, and said 'Put him in irons.' I was determined not to be put in irons. The second mate, third mate, steward, and carpenter, were on the stairs. When I saw the cowardly way I was trapped, I pulled out the knife, for I was afraid it would injure me as it was not in a sheath. They were all round me, and on top of me. I could not let go of the knife, because they held my hand. I did not know any person was cut in the struggle. I did not try to cut any one of them. I was kept in irons night and day till we got to England. I have been at sea seventeen years, and never had anything against me before. I wrote to the captain, to ask him for my wages, for I wanted to procure legal advice, and he would not answer me; and then I wrote to the Sailors' Home to know if he had deposited the wages there; and then I wrote this in my defence; and this is true, just as it happened."
NOT GUILTY .
The following prisoners PLEADED GUILTY:—
266. ALFRED GEORGE ALLISON (21) , to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 5l. 10s. with intent to defraud. He received a good character— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
269. GEORGE SEYMOUR (22) , to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Frederick Crabtree, and stealing a bag and 5l. 19s., his property— Nine Months' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, April 3rd, 1871
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WATHERSPOON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM JAMES PENRY . I keep the "Copenhagen" public-house, York Road, Islington—on 22nd March, about 6.15 or 6.20, I served the prisoner with a glass of cooper, which came to 1 1/2 d—he gave me a florin—I tried it with my teeth, and found it was bad—I said "This won't do"—he said "What is the matter with it?"—I said "Why, it is a bad one"—my teeth marked it—I gave it back to him, he held it in his hand, looking at it, drew out several coins with his other hand, and paid me with a good florin—I gave him a shilling, sixpence, and 4 1/2 d. in copper—he said that it was wonderful how well they got up bad coins, and it was a shame, as they ultimately fell into the hands of the poor man—I afterwards saw a florin at the Police Court, but could not swear that it was the same—I next saw the prisoner at the Police Court, coming out of the van—he is the person—he stayed five or six minutes in the shop.
ALFRED ARMITAGE . I am a gardener, and live at 15, York Terrace, Islington—on Wednesday evening, 22nd March, I was in the "Copenhagen Arms," from 6.20 to 7 o'clock—the prisoner came in while I was there, and remained all the time I was there—he tendered a florin for a glass of stout.
JAMES BLYTH . I keep the "City of London," York Road, St. Pancras, about 150 yards from the "Copenhagen Arms"—on 22nd March, about 6.30, I served the prisoner with a half-pint of porter—he took out a half-crown and a florin, hesitated, and then put the florin down hard, so that I could not tell, by the sound, whether it was bad or good—I examined it, and told him it was bad—he said "It is a bad job, I did not know it"—I said "You ought, for it is bad enough"—I asked him if he could account for the possession of it, and if he had any more money—he said "No," but afterwards paid with the half crown—he said he was a cabinet-maker, and had been to Hornsey for work—he asked for the florin back, but I declined to give it to him; I bent it, and gave him in charge—he refused his address.
JOHN COLE (Policeman 45 T R). The prisoner was given into my custody with this half-crown and florin (produced)—after he was charged he gave his name Edwin Banister, and afterwards Edwin Hill, 5, Charles Street, which was correct.
W. J. HENRY (re-examined). I fancy this florin is the same, by my mark on the side of it, but I cannot swear to it; when I saw it it was flat, it is now bent.
Prisoner's Defence. I never was at Mr. Blyth's before; if I was, and if he gave me 1s. 10 1/2 d. change, what became of it? I should not give it away in the street.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WATHERSPOON conducted the Prosecution; and
MR. BESLEY the Defence.
ROBERT FORBES . I keep the "Lord Stanley," Camden Park Road—on 6th March, about 8 o'clock, I served the prisoner with a half-pint of beer—he paid me with coppers—about 10.45 I served him with two of rum, warm—he gave me a half-crown—I gave him 2s. 4d. change, and put the half-crown at the back of the bar, by itself—I commenced serving a servant-girl, and it then flashed across my mind that he had given me a bad half-crown, and as I took it up, he left—I ran round to the other door, but he got away—I found the half-crown was bad, marked it, and locked it up—on 14th March, about 10.10, I was in the bar-parlour, and recognized the prisoner, who was in the bar, as having been there on the Monday previous, and went to the till, to see what money he had passed—he saw me go to the till, and walked away, and I said "Stop that man!"—the barmaid said "He gave me this shilling"—I said "Can't you see at a glance that it is a bad one?—the prisoner said "If I have given you a bad one, I will give you another for it"—I said "No, you have had me before, and I intend to prosecute you"—he said "You are locking up an innocent man; do you know there is a God above, and you will have to meet me face to face with Him"—I said "I do not know about that, I know you will have to meet me before the Magistrate to-morrow morning," and gave him in charge with the half-crown and shilling.
Cross-examined. I noticed him in the house on 6th March, from 8 to 9 o'clock, when the special edition of the "Standard" came in—he returned at 10.45, and was in my presence a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes; he was there quarter of an hour before he ordered the rum—my wife and the barmaid were also in the bar; they are not here—the rum was only partly drunk—I have not said that till to-day; it was too trivial for me to call to mind—there were six customers there, but there was no other shilling in the till—all money is put in the till if we have change, if not, we go to the packets of silver at the back—we then put the coin changed by the side of the packet—I had cleared the till five or six minutes previously.
JANE LARKINS . I am barmaid to Mr. Forbes—on 6th March I was in the bar the whole evening, except a quarter of an hour, when I was at supper—I saw the prisoner there first at a little before 8 o'clock—I do not know who served him—he stayed some considerable time, and went out before 9 o'clock, because he asked for the "Standard" and it had not come in—I saw him again just before I went to supper, between 10 and 11 o'clock—I was asked for the "Standard" and he had it—I did not serve him at all—I saw him next on the 14th, at a little after 10 o'clock, and served him with a half-pint of stout-and-bitter—he paid me with coppers—Mr. Forbes was then at supper, in the bar parlour—the prisoner then called for more drink, and gave me a shilling, which I placed in the till, where there was only a half-crown, and gave him his change, a sixpence, and 4d. in copper—Mr. Forbes came into the bar, recognized the prisoner, went up to the till, and was going to open it, which the prisoner saw, and left his drink, and went away—Mr. Forbes called out "Stop that man!" and the potman ran out, and he was stopped—Mr. Forbes broke the coin in two, and gave it to the constable.
Cross-examined. The till was cleared a few minutes previously, and the half-crown was taken after that for a bottle of old Tom, and no change was
given for it—I had not noticed the prisoner on 14th March, till Mr. Forbes said that he was the man—I then recognized him—I am sure the "Evening Standard" did not come in till 9 o'clock.
WILLIAM HENRY CALDECOURT . I am barman at the "City of London" tavern, York Road, St. Pancras—on 7th March I served the prisoner with 2d. worth of rum hot—he paid me with coppers, and afterwards called for a glass of bitter, and gave me a bad shilling—I broke it, and gave half to him, the other half I kept, and gave to the constable—the prisoner said that he must have taken it in the City that morning.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner in the dock, at the Police Court, and said that he was the man.
CHARLES GUNWALE (Policeman). I took the prisoner, and received this half-crown and shilling from Mr. Forbes—he said that he was innocent; he did not know he had got it in his pocket—I found on him a half-crown, two sixpences, and 7d. in copper, all good—I received this piece of a shilling from Caldecourt.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY —Recommended to mercy by the Jury— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 4th, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WILLIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
CYRIL WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the Queen's Bench Office—I produce an original affidavit sworn by the defendant—it was used and filed on the argument of a rule in the case of "Borden v. English," on 25th November, 1870. (This affidavit, sworn on 26th August, 1870, was read at length. The portions upon which the perjury was assigned were, that George King had said to Fry, at his hotel at Sittingbourne, either on Monday or Tuesday preceding 26th August, 1870, in the presence of Ward, "What I have told you before, I say now, that what I said at the trial for English was the truth;" and that King and Ward went away together. That Ward afterwards came back to fry and said, "King still insists that what he said at the trial was true" to which Fry replied, "Before the trial, King told me that what he was going to say was nothing but the truth" and that King had since told him he had spoken the truth at the trial; to which Ward had replied, "Yes, he told me so five minutes ago.")
Cross-examined. I have some other affidavits—here is one by a person named Mutlow, on the same side as Fry's, filed on the same rule.
ALFRED CHARLES TATHAM . I am a solicitor of Staple Inn, and am a Commissioner for administering Oaths in the Court of Queen's Bench—on 26th August this affidavit was sworn before me by the defendant—the oath was duly administered to him.
DAVID SUTTON . I am clerk to Mr. Wainewright, of that firm of Coombe and Wainewright—they were solicitors for the Rev. Mr. English in the case of "Borden v. English"—I produce the record, with the postea, and a minute of the Judgment in that action—I also produce the rule absolute made on 25th November, 1870, that discharged the rule obtained by the plaintiff in "Borden v. English," on 21st April last. (The declaration of
Peter Borden stated that he was induced, by false representations on the part of the Rev. Mr. English, to enter into an agreement to become tenant of a brick field, by which he had incurred great loss, and laid his damages at 5000l. The verdict was for the defendant.). I was present the greater part of the time when the rule was argued—Fry's affidavit is mentioned in the rule—there were several affidavits besides Fry's on both sides—I have King's affidavit here.
THOMAS WILLIAM WARD . I live in Princes Street, Rochester—I am now an engine-driver—in 1869 I was employed by Mr. Borden to be his foreman at the brick-field known as the Horsham brick-field, about ten acres—I know Mr. Fry; he keeps the "Sittingbourne Hotel"—King was foreman to Mr. Borden before me—I recollect the Monday or Tuesday prior to 26th August, 1870—I was not at Fry's hotel at Sittingbourne, in the company of King, on either of those days—I did not see King there—I did not on any day in August see King at the prisoner's house at Sittingbourne—I was never there with King in my life—I never had any conversation with King in Fry's presence, at his house—I did not hear Fry ask King, at his (Fry's) house, when the trial would come off—I did not hear King say "Not till October"—he did not say "What I have told you before, I say now, that what I said at the trial for English was the truth"—we did not go away from the public-house together—I did not at any time go to the prisoner's house by myself and say "King still insists that what he said at the trial was true"—Fry did not reply, "Before the trial King told me that what he was going to say was nothing but the truth, and he has since told me that he spoke the truth at the trial"—I did not say "Yes, King told me so five minutes ago;" that is all false—in consequence of something I heard from Mr. Borden, I went in company with Mr. Borden to the prisoner's house at Sittingbourne, somewhere about the 9th or 10th of January last—I saw him, in the presence of Mr. Borden—Mr. Borden asked Fry if he remembered making an affidavit for Mr. English—Fry said "Yes"—Mr. Borden then asked him if he knew what was in it—Fry said "What I heard King say?"—Mr. Borden then said "But you have said about Ward"—Fry said "No, I have not"—Mr. Borden said "But you have about my foreman, that meant Ward"—Fry said "Yes, there he is now," pointing towards me—Mr. Borden then said "You said Ward was here, and heard a conversation of King's"—Fry said "They passed each other at the door"—Mr. Borden then said "But you have sworn they were here together"—Fry then said "Well, they went away together"—Mr. Borden then said "Was it not read over to you?"—he said yes, it was gabbled over to him in London—Mr. Borden then said "You can read and write; you should be more careful, as you might swear a man's life away"—Fry then said "Well, I don't care; whatever I have said I shall adhere to"—to the best of my belief, Mr. Borden said it was ruination to him, and he told Fry that he would have to prove it, meaning the statement that was in the affidavit.
Cross-examined. When Fry said King and I went out together, I don't think I made any answer—Mr. Borden was talking to him—I believe I heard all that was said—Mr. Borden and I had been to Mutlow before that—I was not lodging with Mutlow at that time; I had a few weeks before that, at the latter part of the summer—Mutlow made an affidavit for Mr. English—I did not ask Mutlow how he came to swear that I and King were together at Fry's house—I did not hear Mr. Borden ask it—I am not aware
that any conversation took place between I and Mutlow—I did not go with Mr. Borden to Mutlow—I was there with him—I did not hear what took place—Mr. Borden told me afterwards—while I was there there was only ordinary conversation—Mutlow shook hands with me when I went in—I knew that Mutlow had sworn that I was at Fry's house with King—I saw the affidavit—Mutlow has not been indicted that I am aware of—I think I should have been told of it if he had—I have been to Canada and the United States—I was never in Canada with Mr. Borden—I first joined him at the latter part of 1868—I have several relations in America—I have been to Fry's house about three or four times; once before the trial, and I think three times since; it might be four times—I have not talked about the trial since, to my recollection—I won't swear that I have not—there might have been some little conversation before the trial—I was talking to Fry and some more about America—I don't know that I had any reason to talk about my friends there—I was talking about America—there was a young man there just on the point of going to America, and I was explaining to him the best way to go—I think his name was Jooelyn, Mr. Scoles' son-in-law—I don't know whether Scoles was there or not—I know Mr. Sayers, who keeps the "White Horse" at Rainham—I have never seen Sayers at Fry's—I really swear that—I have never been to Fry's when Sayers has been there, when King has been there—I swear to that most positively—I was at a porter-shop, at Upchurch, called the "Brown Jug," with King, when Sayen was there—Sayers invited King and me there; that would be some time in the summer of 1869, that is close to Mr. Borden's brick-field—I know Henry Deane, foreman to Mr. Muggleton, a brick manufacturer—I have seen him several times since the trial, and have talked to him about it—I did not tell him that I had been to Maidstone, and stated that the earth would not make bricks—I was not examined—he told me I had stated so—I told him that I was an engine-driver—he said it, thinking that I understood the quality of brick-earth, but I do not—I did not say I did not care what I did or said if I could help my good master out of his trouble; I swear that positively—no doubt I said I would help him, as far as laid in my power, and so I would—I daresay that was when we were talking about what I was to state, or what I knew; by helping him I, meant to speak the truth for him on the trial—I would not go further than the truth, to help my master, or anyone else; that was all I meant—I had no other meaning, when I said that Deane did not say that I was a bad man, and ought to be either flogged or committed for perjury—he said something about the lot of us; he did not mean me—he did not say I ought to be flogged, he said something about flogging, or something that way; I forget what it was; we were joking together—there was one or two there—I don't think he meant me, personally—he said something about committing for perjury; King was not there, or Mr. Borden; I don't know who the other men were, they had nothing to do with the case—I don't know who he meant by "the lot of us"—I should think he meant all the witnesses—I had not been a witness, but I suppose he thought I should be at another trial; he knew I was down there as a witness, but was not called—he had got it in his mind that I was called—he might have said something about offering to show me that bricks could be made from the earth—I did not take some bricks while the distress was put in—there was a distress put in against Mr. Borden for rent; not for the first quarter, I think it must have been the third or fourth—there were two distresses: one was paid out—there
was a sale in the other—Mr. English did not threaten to prosecute me for taking away some bricks during the second distress—he did not say anything to me about taking away some bricks, nor did I bring them back; I swear that; I do not know what you are talking of—I took some straw away—King said something about it, and I went to Mr. English about it—he did not threaten to prosecute me; he said he would not prosecute me—I told him I had taken this straw away, and I heard I had done wrong by doing that, and I took it back before he said he would not prosecute me—I took it back as soon as I found out I was wrong—I told him I hoped he would not prosecute me—Mr. Borden had given me leave to take this straw before the distress was put in; that was why I took it—I thought there was no harm in taking a handful, but I did not take it thieving—I don't recollect that I went to any other of the witnesses for Mr. English, besides Fry and Mutlow—I did not go to King, I met him on the road—I did not talk to him about it, we were not on speaking terms.
Re-examined. The straw I took was old waste straw, that had been used in the brick-field all the summer; useless stuff, lying in the field—I took it home, and threw it in my pig-pound, for litter for my pigs—I had been in the habit of doing that all the summer, by Mr. Borden's consent—I had his consent to remove this very straw, though of course the distress was in at the time I took it—King frightened me about it, and I took it back, and went to Mr. English directly—the conversation with Deane took place after the trial, about June or July, to the best of my recollection, in Mutlow's porter-shop, at Sittingbourne; that is about six miles from Upchurch—the way be brought it up was by saying he knew Mr. Borden, as he had lived somewhere up that way, and he commenced running him down, and I differed from him, as I have every reason to respect him—we had a few pretty sharp words about it—as to what we really did say, I could hardly say on oath now—it was at that time he used the expression about our being flogged, and he would not speak to me after that, when I met him on the road—I was not present when Mr. Borden had any conversation with Mutlow about the affidavit—we have had general conversation, but nothing about its being true or false, or anything like that, only just talking in the ordinary way—I know that Mutlow made another affidavit about this matter—when I went to Fry with Mr. Borden I don't think I spoke to him at all, but I can't recollect—I said something to his wife—I did not know Mr. Borden before I went into his service—I am now in Mr. Aveling's service, not in Mr. Borden's employ at all.
PETER BORDEN . I am the prosecutor—I reside at Norland Square, Notting Hill—I am a manufacturer of brick-machinery—after being in Canada for many years I returned to this country in 1863—I had constructed some machinery for the purpose of improving the manufacture of bricks, and was desirous of getting a field of brick-earth upon which to employ it—in consequence of that, and an advertisement I saw, I saw Mr. English, who was at that time the Vicar of Milton, near Sittingbourne—in company with him I went to the Horsham brick-field, and as the result of certain negotiations I entered into a written agreement for the demise of the brick-field—at that time certain representations were made to me about this field by Mr. English—I entered into possession of the brick-field under the lease—I thought I had reason to complain of the condition of the field—I lost some thousands of pounds—I commenced an action against Mr. English in the Court of Queen's Bench—I was present
the trial before Lord Chief Justice Cockburn, at Maidstone—Mr. English was called for the defence, and was followed by George King, who gave evidence—there was a verdict for the defendant—after that, upon receiving some communication from King, I got his communication embodied in an affidavit, and upon that I got the rule—on 25th November, upon reading the affidavit of Fry, and two others, the rule was discharged; I was present—the Court laid stress upon Fry's affidavit in discharging the rule, and Serjeant Parry referred to it several times; it was used to impeach King's statement—the Lord Chief Justice relied upon Fry's affidavit, and the others, in discharging the rule; that was one of the principal ones—I did not know of these affidavits until they were used on the rule, and read in Court—I had instructed my attorney to apply for any affidavits which they might use—so far as I know, my counsel knew nothing of them; I was very anxious to see them—in consequence of this affidavit of Fry's, I, in company with Ward, went to Fry's hotel, at Sittingbourne—I asked him if he remembered making an affidavit for Mr. English—he said "Yes"—I asked if he remembered what was in it—he said what he had heard King say—I said "You have mentioned Ward"—he said "Well, there he is now"—he had before denied saying anything about Ward"—I said "I have got it in the affidavit"—I had the affidavit there—he then said "They passed each other outside the door"—I said "You have said they were here together; you might swear a man's life away in that manner"—then he said "They went away together"—I said "You said a minute ago that they crossed each other at the door, one going out, and the other coming in, and now you say they went away together; you are a scholar, and can read"—he then said whatever he had said he should adhere to—he said he went to London to sign the affidavit—I asked him whether he had read it—he said they had gabbled it over to him in London—he said that by way of excusing himself—I have taken proceedings against Mr. English, and a true bill has been found.
Cross-examined. The proceedings against Mr. English was on the evidence of King, with others, and Ward and myself; we had twenty-one witnesses—Mr. English's case was expected to come on at the last assizes, I believe—I had taken those proceedings about the time I went to Fry's, I can't tell for the moment whether they had commenced; it was about that tune we commenced proceedings against him—I did not know that Fry would be a witness for him—I did not think he would, because what he stated there would have very little to do with the perjury he had committed in the false statement—I did not look Fry up, knowing he would be a witness for Mr. English—I left this country when I was twelve years of age, my father and family went to America—I came back about eight years ago—I have brothers and sisters there—I have no opportunity of getting persons work in America—my brother is a brick-manufacturer there, he employs a lot of labourers; we have plenty of labourers there—the trial of my action against Mr. English commenced on Friday, 11th March, and occupied the 12th, and finished on the 14th, with a verdict against me—I went on the 16th to see King; not to see King, I went to Maidstone to get some bricks—I did not go to see King while I was there; I did not go with that intention—I did not go partly to see him; I swear that—I did not go to King, he came to me at the railway-station; when I was going from the station to the public-house, to get change to pay the cabman; he voluntarily came to me—I went to his house; he asked me to go—he put himself
in my way there, and then I went to his house—I had a conversation with him there—I arranged that he should come up to London to see me the next day; he offered to come—he did come up to town the next day—before I left I gave his wife a sovereign to pay his expenses to London—he is a brickmaker—I don't know what the third-class fare is from Rainham to London; I believe it is more than 3s., I think it is 5s. return—I met him at the Victoria Station by appointment, and we walked to a coffee-shop near Westminster Bridge, and I put down his confession in writing, that he had committed perjury; it is stated so in his affidavit—I then took it to my solicitor—I think King went with me part of the way; he was willing to go before any solicitor—Mr. Lloyd, of Bloomsbury Square, was my solicitor at that time—when I went him to Mr. Lloyd I think I left King in Oxford Street—I have since taken the case out of Messrs. Lloyd & Ford's hands—after showing Mr. Lloyd the paper, I went back and found King—I told him he would not be wanted that day, I had left the paper with the lawyers, and next day I would see him—he was to come to the same place in Oxford Street to meet me—he went to his lodging then, at the coffee-shop, and slept there, and met me at the same spot in Oxford Street next day—when I came out of Mr. Lloyd's I stopped with King a hit, and went into a coffee-shop and had some coffee, in a little street off Oxford Street, and he then made a fuller confession to me; a further confession—I did not tell him to do so—I put it down and he signed it—I asked him if he remembered so and so, and he said "Yes"—he met me next day, and I went to Mr. Lloyd and told him that King was there, and he got some other solicitor to prepare the affidavit—I took him before some other solicitor to be sworn—there were two or three in the office to read it—I think I was to meet him after I came out—I was in an inner room, waiting for him—I think he then went home—that was on the Friday—he came up on the Wednesday, I think—he was here for a day or two—I think it cannot have been on the Thursday that he came up—I think it was on the Saturday that he signed the affidavit—he went home on the Saturday—I suppose he slept at the coffee-shop on Friday; I did not go with him—I gave him another pound in town to pay his expenses, and 10s. at another time—I gave him 2l. 10s. altogether—I went down to his house afterwards; I don't think I went on the following Saturday, the 25th, I don't remember it—I got his wife to make an affidavit also; I went down, I forget what day it was—I have been down many times since—I went down with the affidavit that was prepared for his wife by my solicitor—I had spoken to her before, when I was down there with her husband, and she told her tale—I went down with the affidavit, and it was read over to her; that was soon after I had sent King home—I am not sure of the day, but it was about 23rd March—I gave her some money then, I paid her expenses to Chatham, to have her affidavit sworn—I think only a shilling or two, it was not 10s.—I might have given her 6s., that would be the extent—I don't remember whether I got her to make a further affidavit after that; oh, yes; on 10th April, King and her came together to London—my lawyer sent for them—I saw them at the station—Ward wrote to say they were coming, and I went to meet them—I did not know what they were coming for—I was not aware my solicitor had sent for them; he was not going to tell me, and I just happened to meet them—I went to meet them because Ward told me they were coming to London; neither King nor my solicitor told me—I did not take them to the same
coffee-shop, I took them to my solicitor—King showed me a letter he had got from my solicitor—I did not know what business they had come on—I did not take them anywhere after taking them to my solicitor, I went off home; my solicitor said "You have no business with them"—I gave them a half-sovereign then; they said they were pennylest—my solicitor said I ought not to have given that—I don't remember his telling me that he had sent them a half-sovereign by post-office order before they came up, he may have told me; I have not given them any more money, that I knew of; not about English's affair at all, only since, not about that part—I have given them their money since, about prosecuting King, when they have been down at Sittingbourne I have given them their money when I have subpoenaed them—I don't know how much; I gave them many to pay their expenses—I gave a sovereign for the three witnesses toe go to Maidstone, King, his wife, and son, a little more than to pay their expenses; that was to go to Maidstone, to prosecute Mr. English—they told me they could not go without money, that he was poor, and out of work—his sons were working; he told me one of them was in a barge—he told me he was very badly off, and without any work for himself or his wife—he was out of work on 16th March—he had been foreman to me, after he was foreman to Mr. English, and he afterwards worked for Mr. English again—I said nothing about his going to America—he may have known that I have brothers there; I don't remember telling him; I am positive I said nothing to him about America after the trial—I went to Mutlow before I went to Fry—I knew that Mutlow had also made an affidavit in favour of Mr. English—Ward and King went with me—we went from Rainham; I wrote to Ward and King, I think, to meet me at the Rainham station, and we went together to Mutlow's—we did not go, at first, all three together, they kept back a little—Mutlow was working in his garden—Ward said "That is Mutlow," and then I went up to him—I knew that Mutlow had made an affidavit, something the same as Fry, and I went to speak to him about it—I got him, afterwards, to make an affidavit—he went to Chatham that same day—I did not give him any money to go to Chatham, not one penny—I paid his railway ticket, that was all; I think Ward got the tickets for all; he paid for it, but with my money—I did not give Mutlow any money—I also went to Williamson Butler; he made an affidavit, I think about the time of the rule, but I was up and down so many times—I got him to make an affidavit—I asked him if he remembered about getting a shilling from English, coming out of Court, and he said "Yes"—I did not go to Alfred Butler; I swear that; nor did Ward, that I know of—Mr. Gibson wrote to me about Alfred Butler; I was going to take proceedings against him—he made an affidavit—I did not give him any money—Mr. Gibson got him to make an affidavit; I believe he volunteered to do it—Mr. Gibson was not my attorney down there, only in that particular part—I wrote to him about taking criminal proceedings against Butler for a false affidavit, and then he wrote to me, stating that Butler did not know what he was signing—I don't know what Mr. Gibson said to him, but I saw Alfred Butler there, afterwards, and he made an affidavit for me, at Chatham—I paid his railway fare there—I don't think he went at the same time as Mutlow, I am not sure; Ward was with me, and Ward lived at Chatham or Rochester, and I gave him the money to pay the ticket, that was all; he got no other money, that I know of—the affidavit was not ready for him, as it was for Mrs. King; it was written
out, in the presence of Mr. Gibson, before he went to Chatham—I think Mr. Gibson himself wrote it, in his presence—Mutlow's was before I went to Fry's, not the same day; I think I went to Mutlow on the Saturday, and to Fry's on the Monday or Tuesday following—I don't know that Mr. Gibson had acted as attorney for Mr. English, he was a witness for him—he swore, on the trial, that he was not acting as attorney for Mr. English—I did not employ him as my attorney, only in this part—Butler was working for him, it appears, and I wrote to him about taking criminal proceedings against Butler—I knew, at that time, that he was acting as attorney for Mr. English, in London, not as a local attorney, getting up the case there—he volunteered to do what he could for me—I say that King, and Mutlow, and Alfred Butler, all committed perjury; all their affidavits were false; not Williamson Butler, the shilling given to him was not a bribe, it was only to get some lunch; that was of very little consequence.
Re-examined. Mutlow said he could not read or write, only his name—a Mr. Willis was employed to take Mutlow's affidavit—I have seen the affidavit, and it is signed by Willis—I made no offer to Mutlow to induce him to make the statement which he did to me—while I was talking to him Ward and King stood at some distance—I went and called them up, and Mutlow then said "I never saw the man in my life before," that was King—Ward and King were present at nearly all the conversations—I first had a conversation with him in the garden, at which they were not present, and then I called them up, and after Mutlow saw King he went with me to Chatham—he was not examined at the trial—his place is 200 or 300 yards from Fry's—Willis used to practice as a solicitor at Sittingbourne—I believe he has been struck off the rolls—I saw Alfred Butler at Mr. Gibson's office—I had not taken down any statement of his before that, he made it in the presence of Mr. Gibson—I did not know at that time that Mr. Gibson was employed for Mr. English—I have not given King any money beyond the sums I have mentioned for his expenses—I have just given him some to pay his expenses where we have been to at different times; I mean beyond what I have mentioned, in this way; when I have got him to go with me to Chatham I have paid his expenses, and one day I paid for his time, 3s. for his day's work; that is since, about the criminal proceedings—I looked up Fry—I first went and got a summons from a Magistrate, and he was brought up and locked up, not having bail—King was a witness in London before the Magistrate one day, the first time; he did not come the second time—I paid him his expenses for coming to town on that occasion; that was after Mr. English had been committed for trial at Sittingbourne—I did not give him anything to come up here, but I gave him money for his lodging last night, and a shilling yesterday—I have not given him anything, except for his expenses to come to London to make the affidavit, or to appear before some Court in support of this charge—several times he has been with me, and I have given him 1s. or 2s. to pay his expenses; nothing more—when we went to Mutlow I paid him his fare down, and 3s., I think, for his day's wages—he had lost his work—I think he was in work at that time—many times I have taken him out of his work; I have always paid him—I have sometimes given him 1s., sometimes 1s. 6d. for half-a-day, just what the time would be, nothing more—I have never suggested his going to America to my brother; not in any way, directly or indirectly—I did not expect to meet King the day I went down after the
trial—he came to me at the station and asked me to go to his house, and he made the statement that I took down and put in the affidavit—I took him to Messrs. Ford & Lloyd, my attorneys, and then to Mr. Emmett's, another solicitor in the same square, to swear the affidavit—he did not go into Ford & Lloyd's—I am not sure whether Mr. Emmett prepared it, or Ford & Lloyd—King did not see Ford & Lloyd at all—I did not hold out any inducement to Alfred Butler to make an affidavit—I did not threaten him with criminal proceedings—I did not instruct Mr. Gibson to take criminal proceedings against him unless he made a further affidavit, or anything to that effect—I wrote to Mr. Gibson, stating that his affidavit was false, and that I could take criminal proceedings against him, and desired him to see Butler, and to know if that was so, and then he confessed—he said he did not know what was in it, that he could not read or write.
GEORGE KING . I live at Faversham, Kent, and am a brickmaker—in 1868 I was foreman to Mr. English at the Horsham brickfield—in that year Mr. Borden became the tenant of the brickfield, and I afterwards became his foreman; I continued so nearly through the summer season of 1869, but not quite—I recollect the trial at Maidstone, in March, 1870—I had ceased to be in Mr. Borden's employ at that time; I had ceased to be so at the end of the summer season, August—I was not in anybody's employ then—I had been in Mr. English's, getting out flints in the gravel pit, and I was employed under Mr. Wakeley a little while—I had left him at the time of the trial—he made me leave him—I have a wife and ten children—I was called as a witness by Mr. English at the trial, on the Monday, after Mr. English had given his evidence—I had spoken to Mr. English on the Monday before I gave my evidence—after the trial I made a statement to Mr. Borden respecting the evidence I had given—it was afterwards put in writing in London—I don't know at whose office; we went to three different places—I afterwards made an affidavit setting forth the same statement—I know Fry; he keeps the Sittingbourne hotel—I know Ward; he was engine-driver when he first came there, under Mr. Borden—I was never, at any time in August last year, at Fry's house in company with Ward—I never had any conversation with Fry in the presence of Ward—I never was there—I have been at Fry's house four or five times since he has kept it, and likewise before—at that time I lived about six miles from him—I never said anything to Fry about what I had said at the trial being true—I am certain of that—what I put in the statement is true—I was induced to give the evidence at the trial by Mr. English's promise that I should never want for anything if I would stick to him.
Cross-examined. At that time I was in poverty—I said what was untrue—I committed perjury, because I was to have full employ by Mr. English after he got rid of Mr. Borden—I was not in better circumstances afterwards—I had no promise from Mr. Borden—my affidavit was all true—Mr. Borden found me at Rainham—I was standing out in the main road there—I spoke to him, and invited him to my house—he saw my wife—he gave her a sovereign to bear my expenses to London—it was his proposal that I should come up to London after I had told him what I knew—I went up, and met Mr. Borden at Victoria Station, and we walked about the town, and then went to my lodging where I was going to stop that night, and he took down my statement—we had some coffee—he had a cup of coffee—next morning when I met him we went to the lawyer's office—we went to another coffee-shop—I did not make a further statement there
—I made no further statement—I never altered my statement at all, to my knowledge—on the Saturday he gave me 10s. more to bear my expenses back—that was all I received from him—I never received any more—there was not another sovereign, to my knowledge; if there was I lost it—I never recollect having it—Mr. Borden paid for what we had at the coffee-shop the first evening—he gave me the money to pay for the lodging—he did not give me the 10s. till I returned back to Rainham—I was two nights at the coffee-house—I paid for one night—I did not come up to London again the next week; yes, I did, with my wife—Mr. Borden came to meet us at the Ludgate Hill Station—he did not give me any more money then—he did not give my wife any, to my knowledge—the lawyer sent her down 10s. to bear her expenses up—Mr. Borden never gave me any money at other times, for loss of time, or anything of that sort—all I received was the 1l. he gave my wife, and the 10s. he gave me—he did not give me any money to pay for loss of time, or wages, or anything of the kind—I am quite certain of that—he has since paid my expenses; at least, he sent me a trifle to pay my expenses, because I have had no means—he did not pay me for loss of time at any time—he has never paid me for anything except the actual expenses I was at; I am quite sure of that—when Mr. Borden took the brick-field I was a labourer there under Mr. English, and I was taken on by Mr. Borden, and continued with him till he discharged me—then I went to Mr. English again for a short time, till he had no work for me—after a time I went to Mr. Wakeley—he was not employing me up to the time I gave my evidence at Maidstone; it might be up to within three or four weeks, or something like that—I don't know what he discharged me for—he knew I was going up as a witness for Mr. English—I don't know that he discharged me for that—I always blamed Mr. Borden for it—I thought he was the man that got me discharged—at the time Mr. Borden came to me I was not doing any work—after that I was taken on again by Mr. Wakeley, in the brick-making time; not before May, I should think—I can't be positive—I went with Ward to Mutlow—he was not lodging there at that time—I was not frequently with Ward after making the affidavit—I was never in Sittingbourne with Ward above two or three times—he lived at Rainham, and went to and fro to his work—he used only to come home once a week—I used sometimes to see him on a Saturday night—I might have been at Fry's five or six times during the whole summer, not very often—I never saw Mutlow there.
Re-examined. I knew I was to be a witness at Maidstone a month or six weeks before, or I daresay longer than that, I heard from Mr. English that he should want me there—I have received money from Mr. Borden, I daresay two or three different times, besides going to London—I did not have any money when I went before the Magistrate at Sittingbourne—I walked there, and I had some beer at my own expense.
COURT. Q. When was it you learnt that it was not through Mr. Borden that Mr. Wakeley discharged you; before or after the trial? A. After the trial; after Mr. Borden saw me—I had not learnt it at the time he saw me—before that I had asked Amos, Mr. Wakeley's foreman, to employ me again, and he said he did not dare put me on—I was induced to give the evidence I did at the trial, from the promise of constant employment—I had found out before I saw Mr. Borden, that I was not to have constant employment.
know Fry well; I live close to his hotel—I recollect the trial of Borden and English—subsequent to that I saw a paper in Fry's hands; it was a draft affidavit—he asked me to read it; I did so, and I told him I could not make that affidavit—he endeavoured to refresh my memory—he said I was there at the time certain conversation took place between King and Ward—I told him I did not recollect the circumstance at all—I never saw King and Ward there together, to the best of my knowledge and belief—I told Fry so—the draft affidavit was shown to me at the beginning of November, or the latter end of October.
Cross-examined. I made no affidavit—I knew nothing at all about the circumstance.
MR. METCALFE submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury; the corroboration of Ward's evidence by King, himself an acknowledged perjurer, being too unsatisfactory. THE RECORDER could not say, in strict law, that there was no case; but he never knew a case with such corroborative evidence. The case went to the Jury, who found the defendant
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZA BROOK . I am a cook, of 2, Rutland Place, Charterhouse Square—on Saturday evening, 25th March, at a few minutes to 6 o'clock, I was in Cunitor Street—I had a little leather bag or reticule in my hand, containing a pair of boots, and other things, worth altogether about 31s.—I saw the prisoner first in Chancery Lane, and afterwards in Cunitor Street—he snatched my bag, and ran away down a court into Bream's Buildings—I shouted for someone to go after him—no one ran—I looked for a policeman, but could not find one—I afterwards went to Bow Street, and gave information and a description of the prisoner—I afterwards went to Bow Street, and picked the prisoner out of six others.
Prisoner. Q. Where did you first see me? A. At the corner of the "Blue Anchor" public-house, with two others—you followed me into Cursitor Street, and then came in front of me, and snatched my bag—I only saw you sideways—you tried to hide your face from me, but I saw you as I passed you in Chancery Lane, and looked at you, for the lady I live with had lost her bag two days before—I recognized you at Bow Street, in the prison yard, amongst six others—after losing my bag I went into New Street Square, and I saw a policeman, but he said he could not go off duty—I saw the witness, Mrs. White, there—I did not know her before—she told me not to go down the court, as it was such a notorious place.
MARY WHITE . I am the wife of Henry White, a painter, of 24, Castle Street, Holborn—on this Saturday night I was coming out of my house into Cursitor Street, just before 6 o'clock, and saw the prisoner go down the court by the "Rose" public-house, with a leather bag or reticule in his hand—I saw the prosecutrix, and heard her scream out.
Prisoner. Q. Where did you first see me? A. The first time was about a fortnight previous, when you tried to pick my pocket—when I saw you with the bag I recognized you immediately—I went with the prosecutrix into New Street Square, to see if we could find a policeman—I gave a description of you to an officer, and he afterwards told me you were taken, and I went and recognized you at Guildhall.
PHILIP HINES (Detective Officer E). Last Monday week I saw the prisoner brought out of the cells of Bow Street—I recognized him and told him he was wanted for stealing a bag in Cursitor Street on the Saturday night—the prisoner was put back into the cells for half an hour, when he was brought out to be taken over to the Police Court by two constables—he snatched his right hand from one of them and threw over his shoulder these two pieces of paper, which I produce; one of his companions picked up one piece, but I snatched it from him, the other I picked up myself—(Read: "On Saturday you know that I was in your shop from 2 till 8 o'clock. I was not drunk nor drinking. Mrs. Denny please come and prove that I was at work for you; they want to say that I committed highway robbery in Cursitor Street, on Saturday, at 6 o'clock; they want to get it up for me. Mr. Gilbert go to Mr. Denny. See Fitz, and tell him Crocket, the German, owes me 1l. 5s., to get it and put the rest and pay my fine, and I will pay you if I am fined, J. G.—my Lizzie."
Prisoner. Q. Did not you say to me, "I have got it as big as that for you this time?" A. Nothing of the kind—I have known you many years as a notorious thief.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he was entirely innocent of the robbery, and that while he was in custody the person who actually committed it promised him that he would come forward at the trial and dear him.
ROBERT LONG . I am a licensed victualler of "The Crown and Six Cans," High Holborn—the prisoner was at my house on Saturday week, at different times—I can't say that he was there two or three minutes after 6 o'clock—I don't know what clothes he had on—I should say he was in there both a few minutes before 6 o'clock and a few minutes after, but I could not swear to any particular time.
GUILTY .**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH
CHARLES COKER . I am a grocer, at 249, Upper Street, Islington—on the 8th February, the prisoner came to my house and said he had called from Mr. Kendall, of 17, Armour Road, to pay an account that was owing—I had supplied goods to that house to the amount of 21l. 0s. 7 1/2 d.—the prisoner gave me this cheque for 8l. 5s., and I gave him the change, 6l. 4s. 4d.—(The cheque was on the East London Bank, Limited, S.E. Branch, Tooley Street, dated 8th February, 1871, and purported to be drawn by John Powell payable to Mr. W. Kendall or bearer)—I had supplied the goods on the 2nd February, and sent them to the house—the cheque was afterwards returned—I then went to the house and found it empty.
Cross-examined. I had been serving the house for about a fortnight—the lady of the house came first and ordered goods; she said she was Mrs. Kendall—I never saw Mr. Kendall—I did not ask the prisoner where he got the cheque from—he did not say his uncle, Mr. Kendall, had sent him to pay the account—he did not represent himself as Mr. Kendall—I asked him to write on the back of the cheque, and he wrote "Chas. Kendall"—I supposed he was writing his own name.
to a Mr. Evans, who was a customer of ours at that time—no person of the name of Powell has an account with us—the cheque was presented and dishonoured.
Cross-examined. We may have a customer named Powell, but not with this signature—I think the name of "Chas. Kendall" at the back is similar to the body of the cheque—I could not swear they were both written by the same person; but that is my opinion.
GEORGE DUDLEY (Policeman), On the 18th March I saw the prisoner going into a public-house at Dockhead—I went up to him and said "Charles Kendall, I want you for obtaining money by means of false cheques"—he said "What the hell do you mean by that, my name is not Charles Kendall"—I said "Consider yourself in custody, I am a police officer."
Cross-examined. He gave the name of Charles Henry Smith.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
There were two other like charges against the prisoner.
PLEADED GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
The prisoner had been before convicted of highway robbery, in Cambridgeshire, where he had been going about the country on horseback, masked and armed, and stopping passengers. It was suggested that his mind was affected, but no evidence to that effect was adduced.
Three Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 4th, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LEWIS, for the prosecution, stated that the prisoner's wife had made a most touching appeal to the prosecutors, in consequence of which they requested that no sentence might be passed upon the prisoner.—To enter into his own recognizances to come up for judgment when called upon.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN TRAFFORD . I live at 5, Rupert Court—last Thursday week, about 11 o'clock, I was with my sister, in a public-house, in Coventry Street—I had 3s. 6d. in my pocket, and two keys, and a notice to quit the apartments I was in—we saw the prisoner there—he told us to drink up, and he would refill the measure—I put my hand in my pocket, and found it perfectly empty—I accused him of taking my keys, and said that if he did not deliver them to me I would give him in custody, and he knocked me down—I gave him in custody, and the keys and the notice to quit were found on him—these are them (produced.)
THOMAS SHEPPARD (Policeman C 111). I took the prisoner—the prosecutrix charged him with assaulting and robbing her—I found on him 4s. 4d., these three keys, a knife, and this notice to quit—the prosecutrix was bleeding from her mouth and nose.
Prisoner's Defense. Last Wednesday I was discharged from seven years'
penal servitude; I did five years and eight months. On the next day I received 6s. from the Society. I had 5l. 16s. 10d. to receive from them by installments. I was going to Castle Street to get a lodging, and met the prosecutrix by the "Alhambra;" she said "I will take you where there are lodgings." She took me to Castle Street, and said "Come in here, and have a glass of something." I did so, and she said "You have come from Chatham; I know by your clothes; my chap is doing fire years now." I wanted to get away, but she clung to my arm, and said "Come along with me." I shoved her, and she caught her eye against the door; I was very sorry. As to the key and the other things, I know no more than you do how I got them.
M. A. TRAFFORD (re-examined). I do not exactly know what coins I had, but there were three sixpences and some shillings—it is quite untrue that I asked him to go home with me—I never thought of a man like that.
NOT GUILTY .
286. THOMAS HALL (37), and THOMAS GIBSON (37) , Stealing a bill of exchange for 1200l., an order for 98l. 5s. 5d., an order for 46l. 7s. 2d., and 31l. 10s. 5 1/2 d. in money, of Josiah Christmas and others, in their dweling-house, to which
GIBSON PLEADED GUILTY — Eighteen Month's Imprisonment.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESELY the Defence.
JOHN PAYNB . I am clerk to Messrs. Lovell & Christmas, provision merchants, of Snow Hill—on 18th March, about noon. Hall came in, and asked me the price of eggs—I told him I could not give it then, as it was market-day, upon which the prices were regulated, but I thought they would be down 1s. per 1000—he said that he would call next day, but he returned about 2 o'clock the same day—I was in the back counting-house, which is at the farther end of the warehouse—I heard somebody walk across the shop—I got off my stool, and met Hall at the counting-house door—he came into the counting-house, and asked me if I would give him the price of eggs—I told him it was impossible, without knowing the state of the market—he said that he wished to make a large purchase—I then moved to the front of the fireplace, where I could see the street door—he then asked me about rabbits—I said they were very scarce—he pressed me to put down on paper what I considered the probable price would be—I told him it would be of no use—I then noticed Gibson going from the front counting-house towards the street door, with an overcoat on his arm—I rushed to the front door, locked it, took the key out, and put it in my trowsers pocket—I noticed that Gibson had a cash-box under his coat, and said "Drop that cash-box"—by that time Hall was at the front of the warehouse—Gibson went two or three paces back, and put down two cash-boxes and a bag of silver—Hall, who was nearest to the door, tried to open it—I took the cash-box and bag, walked into the private passage, and called Mr. Christmas, who asked what was the matter—I said, in Hall's hearing, "They were only going to walk off with the cash-box, that is all"—Mr. Christmas came down, and sent for a constable—the two cash-boxes were kept in the front counting-house—one contained 11l. 10s., and the other a bill of exchange for 1200l., and another for 46l. 7s. 2d., and 31l. 10s. 5 1/2 d.—on the road to the station, Gibson ran away—I caught
hold of Hall, and the constable went after Gibson—Hall asked me what I meant, and struggled to get away, but I held him, and handed him over to Sergeant Smith.
Cross-examined. They were taken to Smithfield Station, 100 yards, or more, from our place—the constable had both prisoners, till Gibson got away; I had not put my hands upon Hall—when I heard the stealthy steps of Gibson, I went, as quick as I could, and turned the key—I then turned and confronted Gibson, who was close up to the door, but I had got the key in my pocket then—Hall then turned the handle, as if he expected the door to be open—Mr. Lovell came down stairs with Mr. Christmas.
Re-examined. When I was standing with my back to the fire I commanded a view of the street door—Hall them asked me to write something on paper; he wanted to attract me to the desk where I could not see the street door—the key turned easily sad came out easily; it did not take a single moment; and my body was between the look and Hall while I was turning the key—he could not see whether I was turning it or not, I should say.
JOSIAH CHRISTMAS . I carry on business with Mr. Snell, as provision merchants, at 35, King Street, Snow Hill—on 13th March, about 2 o'clock, I was dining with Mr. Snell, and was called down by Payne and saw the prisoners in the warehouse—Payne said "They have been trying to walk off with the cash-boxes"—I did not hear that either of them spoke—I fetched a constable—Mr. Snell is not here.
Cross-examined. Hall remained with Payne and the constable, but Gibson bolted—I ran and caught him, and when I returned with Gibson, Hall was at the station.
ANDREW BALLIMN (City Policeman 291). I took the prisoners and walked between them, holding one with each hand—as soon as we came in sight of the station Gibson ran away, but I secured him—Hall made no statement when the charge was read—he refused his address.
ROBERT SMITH (Police Sergeant). I saw the prisoners struggling with Balliman—Gibson got away—Payne immediately caught hold of Hall, and Balliman ran after Gibson—I found Hall struggling to get away from Payne, and caught hold of him.
Cross-examined. Hall did not stand still, he struggled with Payne—I am not aware that Payne and the officer have never suggested that Hall tried to get away.
HALL— GUILTY — Eighteen Month's Imprisonment.
MR. J. E. CARTER conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. COLE and MORTEN the Defence.
HENRY NICHOLLS . I am timekeeper to the Midland Railway Company, at Falcoln Yard—on 2nd September, in consequence of what Parker said, I went to the prisoner, who was in the yard, employed as a ran guard to look after the goods, by Hawkins, a contractor—I said to the prisoner "Leave the yard, and do not attempt to re-enter it; if you do I shall have to give you in custody of the police"—he did not answer, but looked at me in a surly manner, and looked towards the gateway—he had some bread and cheese in his left hand, and an open pocket-knife in his right—as I followed him to the gateway Parker said "Can I not look him up for his abuse of me?"—I said "No, but you can summons him"—I saw that the prisoner
had not left the premises, and spoke to him sharply, and said "Why don't you go?"—he looked at me in a surly manner and replied "I will go presently"—I put my right hand and pushed him by his neck—I had to push him about four feet to push him clear of the gateway—as soon as he recovered his balance he put his bread and cheese into his pocket, and came towards me to attack me—I stepped back into the gateway and said "If you come any of your nonsense with me I will punch your head"—he answered "You punch my head?"—I said "Yes"—he made a swinging blow at my chest which missed me, and I struck him with my fist on the side of his head—he then struck me, and I struck him again on his shoulder—he then struck me on the muscle of my right arm, and I felt myself injured, and saw blood running down from my fingers' ends—I said "Good God, I am stabbed!"—he shut up the knife, put it in his coat pocket, and ran away—I was taken to the hospital—I remained there five weeks, and have been two weeks ill at my own home—I have to act as a messenger, as I can do nothing else—I still feel pain.
Cross-examined by MR. MORTEN. The prisoner and Parker both worked for the same contractor, but not in the same van—the prisoner was moving as if he was going; he was in the gateway when I went up to him, he had only about four feet to clear it when I pushed him—I used sufficient force to push him out at the gateway, and he just put his hand on a post to steady himself—I did not push him as hard as I could, or he would have gone down altogether—it is not a fact that if he had not touched the post he would have fallen—I then saw by his looks that he was going to attack me—he did not hold up the knife; I wish I had seen it—I struck him first—he struck me once, and I struck him twice in self defence—I stepped back and avoided his first blow.
COURT. Q. Was there a van in the yard? A. Yes—the prisoner was properly in the yard—I was turning him out of the yard in which he properly was, because a porter told me something—he had a right to be there, and was supposed to be there in the discharge of his duty—I did not see him do any wrong, but the man told me the boy had threatened to strike him—I ordered him to leave the yard because I had reason to believe there was going to be a breach of the peace—it is part of my duty as time keeper to keep order in the yard—I was afraid there would be further disturbance, and I thought if the lad kept outside till the van came out there would be no disturbance.
GEORGE PARKER . I am a carman, in the employ of Messrs. Hawkins, railway carriers—on the 2nd September I was at Falcon Yard and saw the prisoner there, I did not know him before—Mr. Gardner ordered me to draw up for a load, and the prisoner drew his van round in the way, and put his horses on top of my feet—I said "Gently, young man"—he said "Get out of the way, you old b—r"—I said "Look here, my lad, I do not want such language used to me, I don't use it in the Company's service, and if you use such language to me I will have you turned out of the yard," and I complained to Mr. Nicholls—no blows passed between us—the prisoner was not driving the van, he was conducting it.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I did not see any bread and cheese in his hand.
HENRY FRANCIS BAKER . I was house surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital in September—I examined Nicholls—he had a punctured wound on his right arm, about half an inch deep and nearly half an inch long, such as
would be made by a clasp knife—an artery was punctured—I thought at one time he was in slight danger, as the artery had to be tied, which required an operation.
JOSEPH WILLIAM FAWKE (City Detective.) I took the prisoner on the 13th March—he was then a pot-boy in Oxford Street—I told him the charge, and that I had a warrant for his apprehension—he said that he was eating some bread and cheese, and was knocked down and punched by the watchman, and driven out of the yard, and nearly knocked down by a post, and when the watchman rolled his sleeve up and he saw blood running down, he ran away.
NOT GUILTY .
HASLAM PLEADED GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. J. C. CARTER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLE defended Morris.
FREDERICK DOWNS (City Detective.) On 22nd February, I was with Child, about 11 a.m., and saw the prisoners at the corner of Old Change—we followed them; they stood opposite to a van there, and everywhere where vans were pulling up they looked at them—we followed them to Carey Lane, where several vans were standing, laden with goods—Morris stood at the corner of Carey Lane, and Haslam stood stroking the horse—the driver was engaged behind, unloading the van—an officer in uniform came by, and Morris gave a signal, and they walked into Wood Street, and round other streets, into Carey Lane again, and Morris resumed his former position, and Haslam got on the shaft of the van—a case of goods was in front of the van, and the driver was behind—a parcel fell, and the driver jumped down—Haslam jumped from the shaft, and the prisoners walked away together—while Haslam was trying to pull the things but, Morris was standing where he could see him—they then went to Wood Street, where a van was unloading, at No. 50—they walked round it; Haslam went on the near side of the road, and Morris stood right opposite—we had then watched them four hours—they remained there ten minutes or a quarter-of an hour, and appeared to be watching Swain the driver—Haslam went and spoke to Morris, left him, and came to the van, again jumped on the shaft, pulled this parcel off, and walked towards me—Morris ran past me—I pushed Haslam into a doorway, and said "Where are you going with that parcel?" and took him in custody—I found Morris at the station.
Cross-examined. Morris was twelve or fourteen yards from Haslam when he went on the shaft of the first van.
ROBERT CHILD (City Detective). I was with Downs; his account is correct—when Haslam took the parcel Morris ran into Cripplegate Buildings, where he stopped till I took him—he did not see me till I got close to him—this strap and apron were found on him, and 4d.: and similar things on Haslam—they were wearing the aprons.
CHARLES SWAIN . I was the carman driving this van—I was at the back of the van, and missed nothing till I was told by the policeman—the parcel contains waistcoats which I was carrying for the Midland Counties Railway Company—it was in front of the van.
MORRIS— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, April 4th, 1871.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM BRYANT . I am manager to Charles Woolley, of Aldgate, a carman and contractor—the prisoner was in his employment about three weeks—on Friday, 14th February, he was sent to the London Docks for three hogsheads of sugar, one of which he was to deliver in Covent Garden, another in Maryborough Street, and the other in the Queen's Road, Bayswater—he ought to have been back with his van about 3 o'clock—he came between 7 and 8 o'clock, the worse for liquor—his wages were 21s. a week.
JAMES CORDIAL . I was delivery-foreman at the East Quay, London Docks—on the morning of the 14th February I delivered three hogsheads of sugar to the prisoner—I produce the weight-book—the hogsheads were numbered "14," "16," and "20;" No. "14" weighed 18 cwt. 2 qrs. 2lbs.; No. "16" weighed 20 cwt. 1 qr. 6lbs.; and No. "20" 19 cwt. 3 qrs. 13lbs.—he applied for the goods at 9.5, and the delivery was finished at 9.30.
CHARLES ASE . I am a cooper, employed at the London Docks—the three hogsheads which were delivered on the 14th were delivered in good condition—these are the nails we use to fasten the tins on with, and the nails on this tin are clout nails—we don't use them.
FREDERICK STOW . I was warehouseman to Mr. Mills, of Queen's Road, Bayswater—on 14th February I received a hogshead of sugar, "No. 14," from the prisoner, about 4.30—when I received it, it weighed 16 cwt. 3 qrs. 26lbs.—it ought to have weighed 18 cwt. 2 qrs. 2lbs.—these boards are in the same condition now as when I received them—I had nothing to do with putting the nails in.
ANTHONY WILSON MONGER (City Detective). I took the prisoner on Saturday night, 25th February, at Mr. Woolley's place—I told him I should apprehend him for stealing 3 cwt. 2 qrs. weight of sugar—he said "I know nothing at all about it; you can do as you like with me"—I said it had been stolen from two casks, one on the transit from the London Docks to Bayswater, and the other to Marlborough Street—I found nothing on him—he gave a correct address.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "As I had the sugar so I delivered it."
The Prisoner's Defence. As I had the hogsheads, so I delivered them, one after the other, at three different shops.
Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. KEBLE conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY RANDALL (City Detective 168). On the afternoon of 2nd March I saw the prisoner in Fleet Street—he looked very bulky under his coat—I followed him into St. Bride's Avenue, where I stopped him, and asked him what he had under his coat—he said only a quart pot—I asked him to show it me—I pulled open his coat, and said "You have several there, and I shall take you in custody"—I took him to the police-station, and found on him four quart pots and one pint pot, and 5s. 6d. in money—the pots were inside his coat, one in each pocket, and the pint pot was in the outside pocket, doubled up—he was asked at the station where he
got them from, and he said a man gave them to him to carry, but he did not know the man, or where he lived—another officer was with me at the time.
Prisoner. What the officer says is quite correct; I had the pots given me to take to the Blackfriars Road.
LUCY CHAMBERLAYNE . I am the wife of the last witness—on 2nd March I saw the prisoner in front of the bar, walking through as if he did not wish to be seen—I imagined he had something under his coat not quite right, but I did not think anything more about it—I was afterwards shown a number of persons, and picked the prisoner out.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent of the charge of stealing them. They were given to me in Clare Market, to take to the Blackfriars Road I was never in the house, and never saw the lady till she was at the Police Court I can prove I was in the City all the time, and did not go out.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
There were four other Indictments against the Prisoner.
Chandler also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in September, 1863.
CHANDLER*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
RUCK— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. LANOFORD conducted the Prosecution.
JACOB LITTLEFIELD (Thames Policeman 112). On 21st March, about 10 o'clock at night, I was in Cinnamon Street, Wapping—I saw the prisoner there moving a bag on a dust-cart, about to take it away—he was disturbed by someone, and began to run away—I followed him through several streets—I called to a constable to stop him, and I took him to the station—I went back to the place where I first saw him, and found the bag contained 134 lbs. of coffee—I went back to the station, and said "I shall charge you with being in the unlawful possession of a bag of coffee supposed to be stolen from the river"—he said "It was not me"—I am sure he is the man, I never lost sight of him—I have a sample of the coffee here—this is the bag (produced.)
Prisoner. Q. Did you see me climb on to the dust-cart? A. No—I did not see you with a female.
SAMUEL DYSON . I am a lighterman, and live at 62, Bloomfield Road—on the evening of 28th March I had a barge called the Providence in my charge, near the Tower Stairs—it was laden with coffee—there were eighty and thirty bags—I left about 8 o'clock to go and get the order to get the bags on board the ship—when I came back I saw the coffee-bags a little bit ruffled—I thought it might have been a man walking over them—I did not miss any at that time—I missed two bags about 12 o'clock, when they were
taken on board—this is one of the bags—I can't exactly say how much it contained, and I can't speak to the quality of the coffee—there is a mark on the bag, "G" in a diamond, and "1" underneath.
HENRY FORREST . I live at Hertford Road, Kingsland, and am a delivery foreman at St. Katherine's Docks—last Saturday week I went to the Thames Police Station, and saw this bag—when it was full I had delivered it to Mr. Henry Gray's craft, lying in the St. Katherine's Docks—the gross weight of each bag was 1 cwt. 11lbs.—I did not see the quality of the coffee.
JAMES BOLTON (Policeman K 196). On Tuesday, 21st March, at 10.30., I saw the prisoner running, followed by Littlefield, who called to me to stop him, which I did—he said "All right, master, I know nothing about it"—I had not said anything to him.
Prisoner's Defence. The barge was in the Thames, and one could not get there unless they had a boat The policeman says he saw me at 10 o'clock on the top of a dust-cart. I did not see any coffee, and was not in Cinnamon Street when the policeman saw me running; I was in King Street, running towards him.
GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in September, 1866**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
JAMES KENISTON (City Policeman 334). On Saturday evening, 4th March, about 7 o'clock, I was in Bishopsgate Street Without—I saw the prisoner cross from Sun Street into Widegate Street—he had this cloth (produced) under his arm—he walked up the road sharp, and when he turned into Widegate Street he began to run—I ran after him—he slipped and fell, and I caught him—I asked where he got the cloth from, and he said he bought it from Mr. Isaacs, his master, in Finsbury, and was going to take it to a tailor's in Aldgate—the cloth was unrolled, and I told him it looked very suspicious—he said "I met a friend coming across the street, I showed him the cloth, and I forgot to roll it up again, I can't stop to talk to you any more"—I told him he would have to go to the station with me—he said "I will see you b—first"—we both fell—I struggled, and he gave me a violent blow at the left side of my nose—we had another struggle, and both fell again—on regaining our feet, he gave me a violent blow on the right eye, and then he made his escape—there were 9 1/2 yards of cloth—I am sure the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. This happened about 7 o'clock in the evening—he was a stranger to me, but I swear positively he is the man.
JOHN BURROWS (Policeman H R 23). I apprehended the prisoner on the following Monday, between 2 and 3 o'clock in the afternoon, in Keate Street, Spitalfields—I told him I should take him on suspicion of being the man who assaulted one of the City constables—he said "Very well; I will go with you, but I know nothing about it."
Cross-examined. I took him on the 10th March—the robbery was on the 4th.
door—I missed it about 6.15, on the evening of the 4th March, and I gave information at the Fleet Street police-station, at 6.30.
He also PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted, in August, 1863.
— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
EDWIN ESCOTT . I am a warehouseman, and live at 21, Gloucester Street, Mile End—on 4th March, at 8.45, I was passing along Bishopsgate Street—the prisoner came up and made a sudden snatch at my gold Albert chain, which broke off—he ran up Catherine Wheel Court—I ran after him, calling "Stop thief!" and kept him in sight till he was stopped by the officer—I am sure he is the man.
ROBERT HOE . I am a porter, and live at 27, Stewart Street—on the morning of 4th March I was in a shop, in Bishopsgate Street, cleaning out a large glass case—I saw the prosecutor pass, and as he passed, the prisoner came out of the court, and snatched the guard from him—he ran up Catherine Wheel Court.
ROBERT TWOSE (City Policeman 883). I was in Petticoat Lane, which is about 150 yards from Catherine Wheel Court, and saw the prisoner run past, and I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I followed and stopped him—he said "It is not me; I don't know anything about it"—I said "What is not you?"—he said "It is not me; I know nothing about it; I was running after the thief"—the prosecutor came up, and charged him with stealing his chain—I told him I should take him to the station—he said, in answer to the station-sergeant, that he was standing against the wall in Petticoat Lane, and he saw the others running, and he thought he would run, too.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution,
JAMES MOUNTJOY (City Policeman 708). On Wednesday morning, 29th March, about 1 o'clock in the day, I was in Lower Thames Street, and saw the prisoner, with three others, following two gentlemen—I followed them, and saw the prisoner take this handkerchief from one of the gentlemen's pockets—the other men covered him while he was doing it—I immediately went to seize the prisoner with the handkerchief—he made a run—I followed him some distance, calling out "Stop thief!"—he was stopped—I took him to the station, and found the handkerchief in his trowsers pocket, which the prosecutor owned.
GEORGE WRIGHT . I am a master mariner—on the Wednesday morning in question, I was walking down Thames Street with a friend—I heard the policeman singing out "Stop thief!"—I started to run after the prisoner, but I stopped when I saw my friend was not following—I missed my pocket-handkerchief, which had been in my jacket pocket—this is it—I saw it taken from the prisoner's right hand trowsers pocket—the corner was hanging out.
Prisoner's Defence. The handkerchief laid on the pavement, and I picked it up.—
GUILTY **— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES ALABASTER . I live at Two Swan Court, Shoredith, and am a carver—on Sunday night, a week ago, I locked up my shop, and shut the shutters, about 11 o'clock—about 5.50 next morning I found the shutters open, and my tools all gone, which I valued at about 25s.—they were marked with the letter "A"—I have seen nineteen chisels out of thirty-two—they were produced by the pawnbroker.
JOHN HOBSON . I live at 60, Old Nichol Street, and am a cabinet maker—about 10 o'clock last Monday morning the prisoner brought these tools to me and asked me to buy them, I told him to call again in half an hour—I knew him before.
Prisoner's Defence. I found them.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Podd.
GEORGE RUSSELL . I am a porter, in the employ of Messrs. Ponsford & Co., 8, Watling Street, woollen merchants—on the 27th February, about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I saw a bale of goods in the passage of the ware-house—about five minutes after, I came into the passage and saw some persons rolling the bale along the passage—these prisoners are two of the men—the bale contained silk rep chene: we call them Bradford goods—I raised an alarm—I saw a cart and horse at the door, and a man behind with the bale—I saw the two prisoners roll the bale out of the passage on to the pavement—they were in the act of lifting it into the cart—they heard the noise that I made, and walked away—I took hold of Clark and took him into the warehouse, and then I went out and looked for the other, but he had disappeared—I gave Clark into custody—he said he knew nothing about it, it was a mistake.
Clark. Q. Where abouts were you when you saw the bale of goods being rolled out? A. In the passage—there is an entrance to the warehouse from Cannon Street—I did not come in through that door.
Cross-examined. The third man was given into custody—he is here as a witness.
GEORGE PONSFORD . I carry on the business of a woollen merchant, with partners, at 8, Watling Street—I saw the bale of goods after Clark had been brought into the warehouse—I did not see it before—it had been delivered, I believe, about three hours—the value of it was 5l. odd—I was at the further end of the warehouse—I heard some one calling for assistance, and I saw the last witness bringing Clark in—he said he was going along the passage when he saw the prisoner and two others rolling the bale out; that he seized the prisoner, and the others walked off, and that he dragged him into the house—I told him to go for a policeman—Clark began to cry and said he was perfectly innocent of the matter, that he was walking by on the other side of the way when he was asked to assist in putting the bale into the cart; that he had done so out of kindness, and he had never been
in a police-station in his life, and it would ruin him; and that he had got a wife and children.
PHILIP PROUD . I am a carman and contractor, at York Road, Lambeth—I know the prisoners—about a fortnight before this, Clark came and said he wanted to hire a horse and cart to take some goods home, of his own manufacture—he said he was a portmanteau maker—I lent him the horse and cart for the purposes of his trade—he said he was going to take port-manteaus home, which were ordered—he had the cart two or three times a week—he had it on the day of the robbery.
THOMAS BOWES (City Policeman 620). About 2.30 on the day of this robbery I was called to 8, Watling Street, and took Clark into custody—he was crying—he said he was passing by with his horse and cart when a man called to him and asked him to take a bale of goods for him, and he was quite innocent of anything wrong.
Cross-examined. I took a man named Johnson into custody—he said he was passing by and Clark called him to help him lift up the bale of goods—Russell swore that Johnson was one of the men who helped to move the bale—Johnson is in Court—he was discharged by the Magistrate.
WILLIAM GREEN (City Policeman 249). About 5 o'clock, on the 28th February, the day after the robbery, I went to Hercules Buildings, Westminster Bridge Road—I had received a description of the prisoner Podd—I saw him there, and told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with a man named Clark in stealing a bale of goods from a ware-house in Watling Street—he made no reply—on the way to the station he said "Did Clark tell you my address?"—I said "No"—he was placed with eight or nine other men at the station, and Russell picked him but.
Cross-examined. Podd is very deaf.
GEORGE RUSSELL (re-examined.) I went to the police-station and picked out Podd, from a number of other men, as one of those who was rolling the bale out of the passage—I have no doubt about his identity.
Cross-examined. Clark and Podd were the two who rolled out the bale—Johnson was at the tail of the cart to help them lift the bale into the cart.
Clark's Defence. I am very sorry; I must throw myself on the mercy of the Court.
They also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted; Clark in December, 1860, and Podd in February, 1869.*— Two Years' Imprisonment each.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BRINDLEY the Defence.
MARIA YOUNG . I live at Albert House, Kensal New Town, with my father—about 12.45 on the morning of 7th March, I heard a noise—I got out of bed, and looked through my window—I saw two men at the kitchen window—I called my father—several things were missed from the ware-house, but I don't identify them—I saw the backs of the two men—I went to the police-station afterwards, and saw about a dozen men, and I picked out the two prisoners.
Cross-examined. I only saw the backs of the men, and I don't swear that the prisoners are the men—I don't suppose I could tell them from other men
of the same size, by their backs—the police told me that two men would be put before me, with others, to see if I could identify them—I said I could only identify them by their height—when I saw the men at the window I was up stairs—they were below me.
THOMAS YOUNG . I am a pawnbroker, in partnership with Thomas Read—on Tuesday night, 6th March, I saw the warehouse safe at 10 o'clock, before going to bed—my daughter called me the next morning, and said there were two men at the kitchen window—I told her to be quiet, and I went to the front window and called for a policeman—there was a policeman about 100 yards away, but he did not come quickly, and the men got away through the back premises—I did not see the men—I found these seven blankets down the garden, which I identify as pledges—a square of glass had been taken out of the kitchen window—there were two or three clothes props placed against the wall, so that a man could climb up and get through the window—the blankets are worth about 30s.
Cross-examined. I know the prisoner Woodruffe as a labouring lad—I have employed him—I would employ him readily enough—I am of a different opinion now—I have no doubt I have said that I would employ him again; but I should not like.
WILLIAM PBIDEAUX (Detective Officer X). I examined the house of the last witness, on the morning of 7th March—I found a pane of glass had been broken out of the store-room window that is above the kitchen—I found footsteps of two persons in the garden, and followed them in the direction of the house where Woodruffe lives—I went to Woodruffe and told him I should apprehend him for breaking into Mr. Young's house—he said "You are wrong this time; I was in bed"—I had not mentioned the time to him—he said "You will find nothing on me"—I measured the footmarks and Woodruffe's boots, and they corresponded—I believe they were the same.
Cross-examined. I have a very strong belief about it—I looked at the boots when I got to the station, and I thought they were the same—I had seen the footmarks previously, and when I saw the boots I formed my opinion that those boots had made the marks—I did not take the boots and compare them with the marks—there had been a fall of rain during the day.
Re-examined. I measured the marks with a stick I pulled out of the hedge, and I measured the boots at the station.
THOMAS FLEWIN (Detective Officer X). I went with the last witness and saw these footmarks—I saw them measured with a tape—I did not see the tape applied to the boots—I apprehended Wright, and charged him with being concerned with Woodruffe, with burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Mr. Young—he said he was with the two Woodruffes, engaged in moving goods; at 12.30 they stopped at the tavern and had one pint of beer, and had been home with his brother-in-law, where they had some more beer, and he then left—he did not say what time he left.
Cross-examined. He said he left them at 12.30—he did not say he went home—I did not see a stick used to the footmarks—the last witness used a tape.
Young's house afterwards, and saw him in the garden, and he said something to me.
Cross-examined. The prisoners were on the highway when I saw them—I am sure they were the men, and I know the time by the clock at the gas factory—I did not see any other men that night—I did not speak to the prisoners, or they to me.
EDMUND VINCENT (Policeman X 112). On the morning of 7th March I saw the prisoners, about 1.10, in Kensal Green Road, about 50 or 100 yards from Mr. Young's—one was sitting down on the kerb, and the other was standing by his side—they afterwards went on towards Middle Row, where they live.
Cross-examined. I know the time by the gas factory clock, which was right in front of me—that is about 200 yards from Mr. Young's place—I have not measured it—I did not see any other men that night, besides the two prisoners—I was on duty in Kensal Green from 10 o'clock in the evening till 6 in the morning—I might have seen other men, but not in that neighbourhood—I am sure the prisoners are the men I saw—I could not make a mistake, I have known them for years—I should think Woodruffe lives about 200 yards from the gas works, but to get there by the road, I should think it was 500 yards.
NOT GUILTY .
GEORGE SUTTON (Policeman H 147). About 12.45 on Sunday morning, 12th March, I was in Wellclose Square—I saw the prosecutor in the custody of two constables—he was drunk, and his trowsers were down—the prisoner came up, and said "I will do your trowsers up, old man"—he caught hold of his trowsers with his right hand, and as he was doing that, he put his left hand into the prosecutor's right trowsers pocket—I saw him take it out—he walked away—I followed him, and said "You have robbed that man"—he said "This is what you get by doing a man a turn"—I said to him "Have you any money about you"—he said "No"—I said "What have you got in your right hand"—he said "I have some silver"—I said "How much have you got," and he passed the money from the right hand, round his back, into the left—Gurling came up, and took the money from his hand.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor is a German—I don't speak German—I can't say whether the prisoner had put his hand into his own pocket before I taxed him with robbery.
WILLIAM GURLING (Policeman H R 15). About 12.45, on 12th March, I took the prosecutor, Ernst, into custody for being drunk, in Wellclose Square—whilst I had him in custody, his trowsers came down—the prisoner came up, and said "I will button up his trowsers"—I said "What is necessary to be done I will do myself," and I pushed him on one side, and Sutton followed him—I left the drunken man in the charge of another constable, and went after the prisoner—after he had left, I noticed that the prosecutor's pocket was turned inside out, which was not so before—I asked the prisoner what he had—he said "I have a 2s. piece, two or three shillings, a brass coin, and a half-sovereign"—I took from his left hand, which was inside his pocket, a crown piece, 2s. 6d., and a brass
medal—I then seized his right hand, and took from it a half-sovereign—he was taken to the station, and I gave the money to the inspector.
Cross-examined. I took 17s. 6d. from him altogether—I am sure I took the medal from his hand—the prosecutor did not give it to me afterwards.
HENRICH ERNST (Interpreted). I live at 28, John Street, and am a sugar-baker—on Saturday night, 11th March, I had 18s. in my pocket—there was one half-sovereign, one five-shilling piece, and three shillings—I also had a piece of brass in my pocket, which a young man found in the street—this is it—it was in the same pocket as the money.
Cross-examined. I had had it about five days—my little boy found it in the street—I kept it because I did not know whether it was of any value—I did not know what it was made of—18s. was the money I took out with me, and I had a quartern of rum out of that—that was all I paid for—I had more to drink, which other persons paid for—the inspector showed me the brass coin, and I said it belonged to me—he asked me what I had in my pocket, and I said I had a medal—I did not hear the police mention it before.
GUILTY .—He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted, in February, 1865.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN COWELL . I live at 22, Cottage Road, King's Road, Chelsea, and am a tailor—on Saturday, 25th March, I was at the "Nell Gwynne" public-house, with my wife and some friends—we came out about 11.50 or 11.55—the prisoners were against the door—Clarke insulted my wife, and used very bad language—I asked him what he meant—he struck me in the eye—I turned round to defend myself, and we both fell on the ground—he cuddled me while we were down, and when he got off, my watch was gone—I said "My watch is gone"—I looked round, and they had both disappeared—I was fetched by a policeman about a quarter of an hour afterwards, and I gave them in charge then—I have not seen my watch since—it was worth 2l. 10s.
Clarke. Q. Did you see me catch hold of your watch and chain? A. I did not—you cuddled me when I was on the ground, put your arms round me.
COURT. Q. When did you see your watch last? A. About two minutes before I felt that it was in my pocket—I did not look at it—I felt it from the outside—Porter was standing at the side of us while we were on the ground.
MARGARET COWELL . I was with my husband—as we were coming out of the "Nell Gwynne," Clarke used very bad language to me—my husband said "Do you know who you are insulting?" and the prisoner hit him in the eye—they fell on the ground, and were lying there a little time—my brother helped my husband off Clarke, and Porter caught hold of him and took him away—as soon as my husband got from Clarke, he said "My watch is gone"—they were on the ground a minute or two—I did not see where Clarke's hands were—his arms were round my husband's body—they were lying quiet—Porter was standing at the side, quite close to them—my husband had his watch about two minutes before—I had not seen it; I had seen the chain—the chain disappeared with the watch.
THE COURT was of opinion that there was no case.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DOUGLAS offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 5th, 1871.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
For the case of Michael Campbell and John Galbraith, tried this day, see "Essex Cases."
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 5th, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LEWIS the Defence
CHARLES JOHN HILL . I am a bookseller, of 518, Oxford Street—on the night of 27th February, about 7.30, I saw the prisoner at my shop window—I have seen him there several times before—I crossed the road, hid myself in a doorway, and watched his proceedings for twenty minutes or half an hour—I saw him look at this book particularly, and put it down again—he went from one end of the window to the other, and then put it under his coat—there is a case of books outside, and he leaned over them, and put it in his pocket, I suppose—it is "Scripture Illustrations," value 6s.—he came out of the shop, and I crossed the road, and collared him about six doors off, and my daughter came up and collared him at the same moment—I said "I have got you at last"—he said "Let me go back to the shop—I gave him in custody—while I was feeling his coat skirts for the book, it fell at the policeman's feet.
ALICE HILL . I am a daughter of the last witness—I was in his shop on February 27th, about 7.30, and saw the prisoner outside the window, walking up and down outside the shop—he watched me several times, and took the book down, and put it under the skirt of his coat—he afterwards came into the shop, and asked to look at a "Byron," which I showed him, and told him the price was 8s. 6d.—he said that it was rather more than he thought; he thought it would be 4s. or 5s.—I said that if he was passing again, perhaps I might have one to suit him, and he walked on—I knew he had got it under his coat, and went after him, and caught him just as my father came up on the other side.
THOMAS JIZZARD (Policeman E 181). The prisoner was given into my custody on the 27th—when I went up, this book dropped from under his coat on to the pavement—I took him to the station—he said that he took the book—he was a few doors from the shop.
Witnesses for the Defence.
BENJAMIN FOTHERGILL . I am a civil engineer, at 15, George Street—I have known the prisoner about nine or ten years—he is the son of a gentleman in Hamburgh, a respectable man—I am not acquainted with his family—my son knows more concerning him than myself—I know nothing about his brother but what my son has told me—I have known the prisoner up to the time he was given in custody—some time ago he came to me, and said that the object of his visit was to see if I could obtain the aid of a capitalist here, to unite with some parties in Hamburgh, to build a number of steamers to ply between Hamburgh and America, and he thought
Mr. Chadwick would be a very likely person—Mr. Chadwick is a M.P.; his offices are in Moorgate Street, and he is well known—he inquired if I had any objection to accompany him to Mr. Chadwick—we had an interview, but his statements were so much at random that Mr. Chadwick looked at him, and then at me, and recommended him to walk outside while he conferred with me—he thought the prisoner was drunk, but he was not—the prisoner told him about this fleet of vessels, and Mr. Chadwick asked him some questions, which he answered; and he said that there was a port on the other side of the water, which he was not at liberty to name, because the water was not deep enough to receive them—he afterwards told me, in my office, that he was not at liberty to name the port, because the water was not deep enough; but it would astonish the world when they knew: that there would be a great revolution, and there would be a new heavens and a new earth, and the things mentioned in Isaiah would take place, and a great tidal wave would come and scour out this harbour, and then there would be plenty of room and plenty of water—he talked at random to Mr. Chadwick—this was about five months ago—about two months ago I went to pay him a visit at his lodgings, and he inquired which way I had come—I told him along the Strand, through Temple Bar and Fleet Street—he said "Did you look at the top of Temple Bar?"—I said "Not particularly"—he said "Did you look at the new timepiece?"—I said "What time-piece?"—he said "To indicate when the new globe is to appear"—I said "Don't talk nonsense"—he said "You have not faith; you have not spiritual discernment; you cannot comprehend it; how is it likely, when you are not born of the Spirit?"—I said "Don't talk nonsense"—he said "It is not nonsense. Did you not see that shop at the corner of Iron-monger Lane, where there is the first movement?"—I then began, not only to imagine, but to be satisfied that his mind was affected—he spoke about the French war, and about Paris being this and the other, as mentioned in the Bible, and Bismarck being rose up by Providence to accomplish a certain work—I think he told my son what Bismarck was—he said that he had been to hear the Rev. Dr. Parker, of the Poultry Chapel, and liked him very much, and had seen him, and told him what he thought of a certain passage in the Bible—I saw him from time to time till he was imprisoned—I have always been under the impression that he was not in his right mind since he introduced the steam packets to my notice; and what convinced me of it was, that he attempted to take some offices on a large scale, and referred to me—I saw at once that he was wandering—he had not the means of taking an establishment like that, and I wrote to the party and said that I could not be responsible for anything that he did—I inquired what kind of engines he proposed to put into the steamers—he said "That I shall not be able to communicate to you; but it is a new motive power which has been communicated to me by the Spirit; I shall want you to be the engineer; it is neither steam nor electricity; I have got all the plans before me."
Cross-examined. What has struck me as peculiar in the last two months is, that he had a very curious expression of face and staring of the eyes—he had called at my office, and attempted to occupy people with such topics as great revolutions which would astonish mankind—that might be the opinion of many—I may say, for your information, that his manner at the times of those visits was so entirely different to when I have seen him in London and in Hamburgh, when I have been over there, that I was convinced
that his mind was wrong—I saw him last a few days before he was taken in custody; if persons were there he would chat to them, and on one occasion he began to sing—I communicated with Mr. Foster, but did not mention it to his father—my son wrote to his brother-in-law—I never communicated with his friends, and suggested that he should be looked after, but my son did—he professed to be an agent for Mr. Foster, and had an important situation in Hamburgh, but he only paid this country periodical visits—I have known him both in London and Hamburgh; occasional visits in Hamburgh, and coming over to London in connection with business undertakings.
BENJAMIN FOTHERGILL, JUN . I am the son of the last witness—I have known the prisoner eight or ten years—I know his family, in Hamburgh, and have met his brother—I know, from his brother-in-law, that the prisoner's brother is a lunatic—I met the prisoner at Gatty's, in January last; he said that as I had just come over from Germany, he supposed I had seen Bismarck, and people who had figured in the late war; that there was no doubt about it, he had studied Revelations, and Paris was the great whore, and Bismarck was the great beast; that he had had a vision, and seen a great hole dug in the Strand, at the wide part near Somerset House, and the famished poor of London thrown in—he has not spoken to me about steam packets—I have only had one conversation with him since I have been back, but I have seen him, before, carry on in a most eccentric manner.
COURT. Q. Have you observed any marked change in his manner? A. Yes, very much, and he said that he had had a very severe illness, brain fever—that was when I was away, and when I came back I ascertained the marked change in his manner.
LOWETT FOSTER . I am an iron-master, at Walsall—I built the ironwork of New Blackfriars Bridge—I have known the prisoner seven or eight years, and up to last June, when I was in Berlin, where I met him in most respectable society—I did not hear anything of him till my return from the Continent, last Christmas, when I received a letter asking me for money to go to Hamburgh, enclosing a strip of paper on which he signed himself "Carl B. Ellison, son of my mother, a name adopted on account of my spiritual inheritance"—I showed that letter to a gentleman, who said that he believed him to be quite mad—I sent him 5l., to pay his expenses; he was always able to get a 5l. note from me, I knew him so well—he said that Mr. Britton had mentioned his religious views; that Paris was the great whore sitting on seven mountains, and I was quite sure that he was quite off his mind—I saw him before he was given in custody—he was always the same as to religious subjects, but I could not detect anything else, except that he was wild.
Cross-examined. Up to the time I mention, he was sane in business matters, but I must mention that his brother was insane—for the last three or four years the prisoner was not able to attend properly to business—I reported that to his friends, but I only returned to England a week ago, after he was taken in custody—I did not communicate with them before he was taken.
Re-examined. I say of my own knowledge that his brother is in a lunatic asylum.
NOT GUILTY, being insane — To be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.
MR. PEARS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLE the Defence.
WILLIAM HUBERT WATKINS . I am a lieutenant in the 10th Hussars—on 31st March I was at the races of the 10th Hussars, at Down Barnes, inside the enclosure—the prisoner passed in front of me, and I felt a tug at my watch-chain—he moved away—I went and put my hand on his shoulder and said "My watch"—he threw it on the ground, and started out of the enclosure—I pursued him, and never lost sight of him till he was captured—my watch was worth 5l.
Cross-examined. He was not captured in a crowd—it was 4 o'clock in the afternoon—there was a great number of persons there, as H.R.H. the Prince of Wales was present—I did not accuse any other person—I do not know that the prisoner lost his own watch and pin—he was taken about a half-minute after I missed my watch—he went about 150 yards—I did not hear him offer to be searched.
LOVELACE SWAFFMAN (Detective Officer). I was at these races, and at 5 o'clock saw the prisoner running from the enclosure, towards Harrow—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw him followed by the prosecutor—I took the prisoner, and found a pack of cards on him—I told him the charge—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I arrested him in a crowd, about 150 yards from where the prosecutor was standing—I did not see the crowd attack another person, but it may have taken place; there was a great deal of bustle and confusion—the prisoner was ill-used by some soldiers—I heard some other person was ill-treated by the crowd—the prisoner offered no resistance.
GUILTY — Eight Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HARRIS the Defence.
ELIZABETH BARRY . I am cook to Mr. Davis—on 17th February, about 2.30, I saw the prisoner in the area, trying to lift the pantry window with both hands—the area gate was locked—I called the butler, who came and took hold of him—I asked him what he wanted, and he asked if we had any old bottles—while the butler was fighting with him I fetched a policeman, and he was given in charge—when I came back, the butler was in great confusion—his whiskers were pulled out, and he seemed in much pain.
Cross-examined. It is not unusual for persons to call for old bottles, but they do not come down the area when the gate is locked.
WILLIAM MAYNARD (Policeman E 105). I was called, and saw the prisoner struggling with the butler—I seized him by the collar—he was charged with being in the area for an unlawful purpose, and attempting to open the window—I held him while the butler fetched the key to open the area gate, which was locked—the prisoner said "Allow me to speak to the lady of the house"—I said "I shall not allow you to do anything of the kind"—I asked him what brought him there—he said "It is nothing; I am only on a little business"—he made a desperate struggle going to the station, and exclaimed "You b—, you shall not take mo"—he struck me in the mouth, threw me, and kicked me—another policeman came to my assistance—I found this hooked wire in his pocket, which is very useful to reach anything further off than his arm would reach—he said "All right old pal, it
was your game to stick to me, and my game to get away if I could"—the butler came and charged him.
COURT. Q. Did you examine the area gate? A. Yes; it does not shut of itself—it was so shut that it could not be opened without the key—if it was open when the man went in it would close, but it would not fasten of itself without the key—the window is barred, he could not hare got his body in, but there was plenty of plate lying just inside the window.
GUILTY **— Two Years' Imprisonment.
SMITH and JACKSON PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD the Defence
GEORGE HOLLEY (City Policeman 646). On 27th March I saw Graham, in Cheapside, by Lawrence Lane—Jackson went up, and spoke to him—they walked up Cheapside, and were joined by Smith—they stood at the corner of Foster Lane, where Graham left them, walked towards the Post-Office, and returned, and they all went down Newgate Street—Graham stopped at the corner of Rose Street, while Smith and Jackson looked into the shop, 18, Newgate Street, three doors off—Graham stood looking towards them—he afterwards went up to them, and they all three went down Warwick Lane, into a public-house—they came back in five minutes, into Newgate Street, and stood talking at the corner of a hoarding for about five minutes—Graham then went to the corner of Rose Street again, and Smith and Jackson went and looked into No. 18, and Smith picked tip this roll of cloth (produced), and handed it to Jackson—Graham was then three doors off—he made a signal to them as they took it—they passed him, and I pursued them down Rose Street, calling "Stop thief!"—when they found I was behind them, Jackson threw down the cloth—I took him in Oxford Arms Yard—I found Graham in Newgate Street, in custody.
Cross-examined. I lost sight of Graham, but it was not fire minutes before I returned and found him in Newgate Street; he was then at the same spot, three doors from the shop—I am sure he was in communication with the others—I have not made a mistake with regard to him—I watched him from 3.30 till 5 o'clock—he did not touch the cloth—I found this bag on him.
GEORGE EDWIN WHATLEY . I am clerk to Mr. William Mardon, a solicitor, of 99, Newgate Street, opposite Mr. Day's shop—I was at the second floor window, and saw Graham walking up and down, and looking at the prosecutor's window—the others afterwards looked in, and left, and walked up to Graham, about fifty yards off—they had a conversation, and Graham went and looked in at the window again, and walked away, and then Smith and Jackson looked in, and walked away, and had another conversation with Graham, and then went and looked in again, and signalled to Graham—Smith then picked up the cloth, and threw it to Jackson, and then ran down Rose Street—I came down with another clerk, and gave Graham in custody.
Witnesses for the Defence.
Cross-examined by MR. BRINDLEY. I know Jackson—I met him in Leather Lane, Holborn—I was not in Cheapside that afternoon—I did not go from Cheapside to Newgate Street with Graham in my company—I live at White Horse Cellar—I do not know where Jackson lives—I usually meet him in the Clock House, a licensed house in Leather Lane—I have not seen Graham there, and I never saw him in my life, till he was in the police-station—I did not see him in Cheapside; I was not there—I was not walking about, talking to him—I told the officer at the station I had never seen him before, but that I knew Jackson—I met Jackson at the Clock House at 2 o'clock that afternoon—we went up to Newgate Street about 3 o'clock, and walked about Newgate Street till about 3.30, and then I took the cloth and gave it to Jackson—I met Jackson almost every day—I have an appointment with him there; we have been looking for work—I am a painter—I have been convicted before, and my mother wished me to have three years from this Court—I also had seven days before that, for being at the races.
COURT. Q. Were you at a reformatory? A. Yes, my mother wished me to go—I came out in 1870, and have since then been working for my father, at Bromley, in Kent—Jackson was not in the reformatory with me.
WILLIAM JACKSON (the prisoner). I have pleaded guilty to this charge—I did not know Graham before this theft—he had nothing to do with it. Cross-examined. He did not watch while Smith and I took the cloth—I was in Cheapside, on this afternoon, and Smith was with me—we did not speak to Graham—Smith did not leave me in Cheapside, nor did I speak to Graham while he was away—we did not all three go into Newgate Street, only me and Smith—I met Smith in the street about 11 o'clock in the morning, in Holborn—I was only in one public-house—I do not know where that was, but the officer knows—I had never been there before—I never met Smith before in the same place—I have met him in a public-house in Leather Lane; only on a Sunday—I was not in the habit of meeting him there—I know where he lives, but he does not know where I live—I have no fixed residence—I had no nod or sign from Graham.
COURT. Q. Do you know Warwick Lane? A. No—Smith and me went into a house in a street leading out of Newgate Street, to have a glass of ale—Graham did not go with us—we stayed about ten minutes—I had only known Smith about a week.
GRAHAM— GUILTY .
He was further charged with having been before convicted at Clerkenwell, in April, 1863, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
SMITH— Two Years' Imprisonment.
JACKSON— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HARRIS defended Bland.
WILLIAM BROWN . I live at the Green Lanes, Stoke Newington, and am private watchman to Mr. Rydon, a brick-maker there—on 20th February, about 2.30, I was in my garden, and saw a flame shoot up from a straw stack
in Mr. Rydon's brick-field, about fifty yards off, and the three prisoners ran away—I ran after Bland, and stopped him about 100 yards from the stack, and the two others were stopped—they are the two—Bland said "Let me go, and I will tell you who did it; I did not do it, the others did"—I said "No," and took him to Mr. Rydon's office, and then to the station—the stack was burnt to the ground.
Cross-examined. He did not tell me that one of the boys struck a fusee and set light to it—I have seen him about there—a stack is burnt down every year; one was burnt down last November, just before the 5th.
JAMES DAVEY (Policeman N 144). When Bland was brought to the station, and charged with setting fire to this stack, he said "I did not do it; the other boy, Mitchell, did it"—I went to Mitchell's, and he was not at home—I went again, and apprehended him—he said "Yes, the other boys told me to do it"—he made several statements, and I said "Be careful what you say"—he first said "the other boys," and then "the other boy"—I found some vesuvians on Bland.
REGINALD THOMAS . I am a poulterer, at 83, Grosvenor Road, Highbury New Park—I was taking a short cut across some fields, and saw a stack of straw on fire about ninety paces from me, and three boys clustered together between the stack and the fence which was round it—I shouted to them, hailed them, and gave the alarm—the prisoners are the boys—I saw one caught by Brown.
Cross-examined. I did not see a bigger boy than any of the prisoners—I saw three boys leaving the stack together.
JOSEPH WAKEFIELD (Detective Officer G). From information I received, I went to 19, Great Bath Street, and found Kirby—I told him I was a police-officer, and wanted him, for being concerned with two other boys in setting fire to a straw stack at Stoke Newington, on 23rd February—he said "I don't think it is me, Sir"—I took him in custody—on the way to the station he said "I was with two boys, one named Bland, and the other Mitchell; Bland struck a match to light his pipe, and handed it to Mitchell, who threw it into the stack, and as soon as it began to blaze they ran away, and I ran away with them; since then I have been shut up by my father,"
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD defended Ryan.
ROBERT SELLICK . I am a metal-worker, of 2, Great Andrew Street, Wandsworth Road—I was in Tottenham Court Road two Saturday nights ago, before 12 o'clock, and Shine came out from one of the side streets, rushed behind me, put his arms round my neck, pulled me down, and I received a thump on the head—somebody picked me up, and said "Look out for your watch"—I missed it—Shine was then about twelve yards off—my watch and chain were worth 10l.—I did not see the woman.
Shine. You swore, before the Magistrate, that you were running towards Oxford Street, and I can prove you were running towards Hampstead Road, and you threw me down. Witness. A woman abused me first, and in trying to get away from her you rushed out at me—I tried to get rid of her—I cannot say who she was—it was not Ryan—I admit that I was running, or walking pretty sharp.
FREDERICK GODWIN . I live at 5, Little Howland Street—on this Saturday night, about 11.30, I was going towards Haznpstead Road, and saw a crowd at the corner of London Street, and saw Ryan take a watch out of Mr. Sellick's pocket and put it down her bosom, and run away—Mr. Selliok was standing up, and Shine was holding him behind—he continued standing while the watch was taken—I went away.
Shine. Q. Was not there a rush after the prosecutor, halloaing out "Stop him?" A. Yes, and you got hold of him.
Cross-examined. Q. Where there many women about? A. About three—Ryan wore the same clothes as she does now—I told the policeman she wore a black shawl—he took me to her place—her husband was trying to drag her in doors, but she would not go in, and I said "That is the right woman—I knew her by sight before—she lives down our street.
MARGARET SMITH . I am the wife of William Smith, of 3, University Street—I was crossing Tottenham Court Road and saw a woman interfering with the prosecutor—I said mind your watch—she kept raising the man backwards and forwards in the open street, and I said "Runaway"—he tried to get away from her, and Ryan rushed out of a public-house and attacked him, and Shine came out by the side of a chemist's shop, caught him by the collar, and pulled him down, and had his watch-chain from his waistcoat pocket in his hand—Ryan was on his back, and the woman who first tackled him—when he rose from the ground his watch was gone—Shine said "I will give it to you for interfering with my wife.
Cross-examined. I next saw Ryan at the Police Court, on Monday morning, in the dock—they did not put her with other persons and make me pick her out; but I saw her on the Saturday night—and a quarter of an hour before this I had seen her fighting in the street, and the person she was fighting with came to our hospital.
WILLIAM JONES . I am an organ-builder of 20, Howland Street, Tottenham Court Road—I saw the prosecutor being molested by two women—he tried to get out of the way, and Shine sprang out from somewhere and threw him down—I saw him crawling along the windows, as if waiting for an opportunity of springing on him—I heard two or three women say "Stop him I"—I picked the prosecutor up—there might have been three women there.
Shine. Q. Were not people calling out "Stop him?" A. Three women—he was making a trot.
JOSEPH KELLY (Policeman E 21). I saw two crowds; the prosecutor was in the centre of one of them, and the two prisoners in the centre of the other—the prosecutor complained of the loss of his watch, and pointed to Shine, who I took in custody—I told him the charge—he said "Me, I did not take the man's watch, I heard people calling out 'Stop him!' I did stop him, and thought I could detain him till the prosecutor came up"—when I came up Shine and the prosecutor were eight or ten yards apart—afterwards, in consequence of what a boy told me, I took Ryan at about 1.15, and told her the charge—she said "I know nothing about it"—I asked her if she had heard of a gentleman being knocked down, in Tottenham Court Road, and his watch stolen—she said "No"—after the charge was read over to her, at the station, she said that some man interfered with her and another woman, and Shine took it up and struck him—I reminded her then, that when I took her she denied all knowledge of any affair in Tottenham Court Road; and she then alluded to an accident, when her head was cut, and said she thought that was what I alluded to—she had a bandage on.
Shine. Q. Was it not outside the public-house that you came up? A. Yes.
Shine received a good character.
Shine's Defence. I came out of the public-house, and two women were shouting "Stop him!" and naturally enough I did so. I am innocent.
SHINE— GUILTY—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.
RYAN— GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLB the Defence.
JOSEPH WETTERBORNE . I am salesman to Dean & Co., ironmongers, of 3, Arthur Street, next door to Messrs, Bond, Forbes & Cunningham, wine merchants, where the prisoner was employed—the prisoner has left parcels on our premises six or seven times this year—the first time he brought them he said that it was bottles of wine, which had been given to him, which he did not want to take into the stores, and I let them be there, among the ironmongery—on the day he was taken, he brought a basket containing three bottles, which he said contained catsup—I had communicated with Bond & Co.—I saw Mr. Forbes passing, and knocked at the window—he came in and examined the basket, and took one of the bottles out—he then went into his own premises, and Mr. Freshwater came in, examined the bottles, and marked them—about ten minutes after he left, the prisoner came and took the basket away—that was before 11 o'clock—Mr. Freshwater followed him and brought him back.
Cross-examined. I think it must have been before 10 o'clock a.m. when the basket was brought—I think it commenced this year—he told me that they were bottles of wine at first.
Re-examined. He said they were bottles of wine, but he did not like to take them next door—he said, three times, that they contained catsup.
GEORGE FRESHWATER . I am clerk to Bond, Forbes & Cunningham, wine merchants, of Arthur Street, West—the prisoner has been in their employ seven or eight years—he bore a good character—he was assistant to our dock clerk, and had access to the stock as much as myself—I had some conversation with Mr. Forbes, and on the morning of the 17th went to Messrs. Deane's, and found a basket containing three bottles, two of port, and one of brandy—I marked them with a cross on the corks—the basket was tied up tightly over the necks—I left them there, and went back to my master's premises—I heard the prisoner say that he was going to the Custom House—I saw him leave Dean's premises with the basket, followed him, stopped him, and said "Strong, what have you got here?"—he turned, round, and looked at me for a moment, and said "Cranberries," and there was a very small parcel at the top—I said "I do not mean that," and then he said "Catsup"—I said "You have made some mistake, I have seen the bottles"—he said "Well, it is wine"—I said "You must come and explain the matter to Mr. Forbes, he wants to know where they came from"—he turned to go up King William Street, but I said "Oh, no"—I put my arm through his, and we walked together to Mr. Forbes—I said "I wish Strong to explain, Sir, where he got these bottles from"—Mr. Forbes said "Strong, where did you get these bottles?"—he said "I brought them from home this morning"—Mr. Forbes said "Where did you get them, to take them
home?"—he said "They are part of two dozen I bought for a friend; he did not want the whole, and returned me some, and this is one of them"—Mr. Forbes said "Strong, I know you are a thief; you have been leaving parcels at Messrs. Deane's for some time past, and always told the same story about it being catsup"—he denied it, and again said that he could prove they were his property—I come to business about 8.30 or 8.45, and the prisoner comes about 9 o'clock—everyone employed there has access to the wine—the prisoner was taken to the station, and Mr. Forbes said to the policeman "Of course you will go and search his lodging?" the prisoner made no remark—I went with the officer, and searched the premises, and he made entries in my pocket-book of twenty-nine bottles, including brandy, and two ullage bottles, and twenty-five or twenty-six capsules and labels of our firm—I recognized the writing of a clerk in our establishment, on a sample bottle—those things were taken to the station, and shown to the prisoner, and the inspector told him he would be charged with stealing them—I was not near enough to hear what he said, but he claimed two or three of the bottles—the inspector said "What about the samples?"—he said "Well, I obtained them from the docks, they are country samples"—as to the capsules and labels, he said "I know I took them"—in December last he bought two dozen of brandy, which he said was for a Mr. Casey, and another dozen in January, for the same gentleman—that is all the brandy we have ever sold him—he has bought a bottle of sherry or claret once or twice, which is down in the book—I found, at his house, this long foolscap paper; part of it is in his writing, but one page I am rather doubtful about—I believe the bulk of it to be his—I have compared it with oar binbook, and find it is a copy, with the numbers of the bins and all, and the date and name of the wine; also our private mark, which we were not aware he knew—he had no authority from us to make that out—I have tested the brandies, and find thorn all of the same strength, between 17 and 18 under proof, and similar in quality and strength to the brandy on our premises—these two bottles have not been drawn, but I can tell by the cork that it is old port—we have 300,000 or 400,000 bottles, and it is impossible to miss one.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has borne a very excellent character—his duties were merely to take the re-gage papers to the docks, and pass them—he paid the duties in the docks by cheque—he only had crossed cheques entrusted to his care, and sometimes gold, but very limited—this (produced) is a book in which I enter when I let the men have bottles at cost price—I have the name of the prisoner here, and several other members of the firm—the largest number sold here is three bottles, except at Christmas, for their friends, when one man had nine bottles at cost price—four dozen of brandy is all we have sold to the prisoner since July, 1870, and a bottle of sherry and a gallon of gin two days before this affair, and a bottle of claret—I did not enter what was sold before July, as that was before I took to that branch—the dock sample is a glass bottle which will hold nearly a pint. Re-examined. He would not have authority to take the dock sample—it was only a month or six weeks before this that we commenced capsuling our brandy, so this must have passed through my hands—I am positive I did not sell him brandy before this book was in existence—another little book was found at his premises.
December he supplied me with two dozen of brandy, from Forbes & Cunningham—he ordered it for me, and of 5th January he supplied me with another two dozen, and one dozen in February—I have had five dozen altogether—I signed these receipts—that is all the brandy I have had through him—I returned none.
Cross-examined. He has been a friend of mine all the six years I have known him—I always found him strictly honest, and in little money matters he was honest to a halfpenny.
JAMES STROUD (City Policeman 579). I took the prisoner—he gave his address, "1, Tredegar Road, Bow," and said "Are you going to search my house"—I said "Yes"—he said "You will find three bottles of port wine and six bottles of pale brandy in my room, on the floor, under the washhand-stand; you will also find two dozen of brandy in a box, and a few sample bottles"—I went there, and under the washhand-stand found six bottles of port, and in a box two dozen of pale brandy and five bottles of wine, and in another box, of which I had the key, taken from the prisoner, three bottles of brandy, two of rum, and one of whiskey, small sample bottles, twenty-five capsules, and about twenty fresh labels—I took all those things to the station, and showed them to him—he picked out either four or five bottles, and said that they were presents made him by the firm at Christmas time—he said "The capsules I took from the firm; the sample bottle I got from the docks, also a small bottle of brandy"—he said that he had sold four dozen of brandy to Mr. Carey, and a dozen he had returned.
JAMES SKEATS . I am a clerk in Messrs. Bond's employ—this sample bottle of rum has a label with my writing on it—it is "Jamaica rum, by the ship Westmoreland, 26th August, 1870, cask 42"—I placed that sample in the sample room, about November—I afterwards missed it, and other sample bottles.
Cross-examined. I was not in the same department as the prisoner—he went to the docks every day, more frequently than I did—I draw the samples from a puncheon.
MR. STRAIGHT to G. FRESHWATER. Q. Was the brandy supplied to Mr. Carey of the quality you have had supplied since July? A. Yes—it would not be allowed to be sent out without being capsuled and labelled.
COURT. Q. Were the firm in the habit of making presents? A. Yes, and at Christmas, Strong had two bottles of port and two of brandy, I think—I have not got a note of it, but it was not more than four bottles.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution.
HEINRICH STIEBIG (through an interpreter). I am a baker, of 1, King's Road, Chelsea—on Saturday night, 25th March, I met Bowerman in a public-house near Covent Garden, and went with her to a coffee-shop, where I gave her 18d., and then back to the public-house again, and then back to the coffee-shop—we went into a room—no one else was there—I locked the door, and she said that the 18d., which I had agreed to give her, was not enough—I undressed, and got into bed, and she began to cry
out "Jimmy!"—the woman who keeps the coffee-shop came up stairs, and asked me to open the door—I did so, and went out, and when I got on the second stair, going down, the prisoner struck me on my head with a water-jug—when I got four steps down, four or five men knocked me over, and beat me, on the staircase—Davey was one of them—I ran out at the street-door, and he caught me again outside, and said he would take me to the police-station, and when I came to Stanley Bridge he said that I must give him the money—I said that I had none—he took me by the throat, and pushed me, and struck my face with his fist—my face bled, and I had a black eye—the other men were by, but they ran away—I cried "Police!" and Davey was given in custody—I had 16s. when I came out of the public-house the second time, and I only had 6s. 2d. when he was given in custody—I paid 2s. for the room, which left 14s.—I lost the 8s. between the time I was on the stairs and Stanley Bridge—the men seized my legs, and dragged me down stairs—I did not feel anybody take anything out of my pocket, they were pulling me about so much—I cannot say whether it was taken outside or inside the house—it was loose in my trowsers' pocket—I cannot say whether it could have fallen out—I did not feel anybody put their hands in my pocket—Bowerman did not touch my clothes while I was in the room.
NOT GUILTY .
HEINRICH STIEBIG repeated his former evidence.
Bowerman. If I had struck him on his head with the jug, it would have cut his head open.
ALFRED MASKELL (Policeman T R 29). At 12.45 on this Sunday morning I was on duty in the King's Road, and saw Davey holding the prosecutor by his arm—I followed them some distance, to the foot of Stanley Bridge, where they struggled together—the prosecutor called "Police!" several times—I ran to the spot, and saw him covered with blood, and Davey running away—I took him in custody, and Bowerman came to the station, and asked what her husband was charged for—the inspector told her, and the prosecutor recognized her—the inspector asked her what she had to say about it—she said that the prosecutor had struck her in the face.
Davey. Q. Did you see me strike him? A. No; his face was covered with blood, and he had a black eye next morning.
Re-examined. I went to the coffee-house next morning, and it was closed—they had all gone to bed.
WILLIAM SEWELL . I am a carpenter, of 26, Blantyre Street, Chelsea—I was in the King's Road about 12.30, and saw Davey holding the prosecutor, just outside a coffee-shop door, on the pavement—several others were there—Davey pushed him on towards Stanley Bridge, and said that he was going to take him to Fulham Station—one of the men said "Don't go over the bridge, or it will be all wrong"—I saw no blow struck, but the prosecutor's face was all over blood—the blood ran on to the desk at the station—I did not see Bowerman.
Bowerman's Defence. He took me to the coffee-shop twice. He was to pay me a half-crown for all night, and only gave me 18d. I said I should not stop for that. He made me drunk.
A. MASKHLL (re-examined). She was sober when I took her.
GUILTY of a common assault —DAVEY— Six Months' Imprisonment, BOWERMAN**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, April 5th, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
The defendant surrendered in pursuance of a notice from the Prosecution; but the prosecutrix not being in attendance, the COURT directed the Jury to find a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence. No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES BISHOP . I am assistant to Mr. Alfred John Ellen, a coffee dealer, at 4, Laurence Pountney Hill—on Saturday, 4th March, about 11 o'clock, I saw some coffee, weighing 1 cwt. 2 qrs. 11lbs., in the passage of the warehouse—this (produced) is the wrapper in which the coffee was—I saw Burke about 1 o'clock, when I went for my dinner, in the passage adjoining the warehouse—he went down Duoksfoot Lane into Thames Street.
Burke. Q. Did you see me touch anything in the passage? A. No; I missed the bag about a quarter of an hour after—I picked out the wrong man at the station—the inspector took me round to see if I knew any men, and I did not know any—when you were at the Mansion House, I said I thought you were the man—I am sure you are the man.
GEORGE JENNINGS . I am a dock labourer, and reside at Spitalfields—on Saturday afternoon, 4th March, about 3.45, I was in Fish Street Hill—I saw Burke there, with a bag of coffee—a man came down the hill with a barrow—he stepped from the pavement into the road, and put the bag of coffee into the barrow—something passed between Burke and the man with the barrow, but I was too far off to hear what it was—in a moment or two Burke took the coffee off the barrow, and left it in the road, passed me, and went down Monument Yard—the man with the barrow went down the hill—I stood and looked for a moment, and then went up to the coffee—a policeman came up, and we took it to the station—this is the wrapper it was in—I gave a description of Burke to the police—I did not notice the other man.
JOHN SEAWARD . I am a butcher's assistant, and live at 35, Fish Street Hill—I saw Burke take this bag of coffee off the barrow—he put it in the middle of the road, on Fish Street Hill, and left it—Sullivan helped Burke to take the coffee off the barrow—Sullivan went down a court, and Burke went up the hill—I am sure Sullivan was helping him—I saw
Burke at the station, and recognized him—I did not see Sullivan at that time.
JAMES MOUNTJOY (City Policeman 708). I was on Fish Street Hill about 3.45, and saw a bag of coffee lying in the middle of the road—Jennings gave me a description of Burke—I had seen Burke within ten yards of the bag, walking away from it—I called another constable, and put the bag of coffee in a warehouse—I then went round to the "White Hart," public-house—I saw Burke there, and told him I should take him into custody for having a bag of coffee in his possession, on Fish Street Hill, supposed to have been stolen—he said "You have made a mistake this time"—he was identified by Seaward and Jennings—this wrapper was round the bag of coffee—I afterwards went with another constable, and found Sullivan in a public-house, in Aldgate, about 7.45 in the evening—I said I should take him, for being concerned with Burke, in having a bag of coffee, supposed to have been stolen—he said "I know nothing about it, more than what I was told at the 'White Hart'"—I have seen both the prisoners together, repeatedly. Burke. Q. You say you saw me ten yards away from the coffee? A. Yes, I saw you turn into Monument Yard—I looked round after you.
JONATHAN CABRINQTON (City Policeman 724). On Saturday, 4th March, about 3.45, I was coming through King's Head Court, and met Burke, about ten yards in the court—as soon as I got to the end of the court I saw the bag lying in the road—I went to raise it up, arid I heard Sullivan call "Jack"—I turned round, and saw Burke come out of the court, and go up Fish Street Hill—I had the bag taken to the station—this is the wrapper which came off it—I took Sullivan in custody—he said he knew nothing about it, and at the station he said he was there, but he had nothing at all to do with it—I have seen the prisoners together before—I saw them together on that day.
The prisoners, in their defence, denied knowing anything about the coffee.
Burke also PLEADED GUILTY* to having been before convicted, on 31st March, 1870— >Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. SULLIVAN— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
JAMES LACKERSTEIN . I live at 64, Beresford Street, Walworth—on 21st March I was in Moorgate Street, entering a friend's office—I felt a tug at my pocket as I entered the archway—I turned and saw the prisoner running—I called "Stop thief!" and ran after him—he turned round a court—I did not run so fast as he did, and when I got to the court I found him in the custody of the police—I produce my handkerchief; it is worth 2s.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see me drop the handkerchief? A. Yes, a little boy picked it up, and gave it to me.
Prisoner's Defence. I heard a cry, and ran, and the moment I got into the court a policeman caught me, and the handkerchief was brought up by a boy, and given to the police. The prosecutor came up and charged me; he did not know who took it I assure you I don't know anything about it.
NOT GUILTY .
ANDBRW DUNN . I live at 12, Charles Street, Drury Lane—on the morning of 1st March, about 1 o'clock, I was coming down Charles Street, going home—Elliott was standing on the right hand side—he was coming out of a house, and George was on the left hand side—Elliott followed me about three steps, and took me by the arm—I turned round, and before I had time to speak he hit me in the mouth, and staggered me—he hit me again, which staggered me more; and the third time he hit me I fell down—when I was down on the ground he tried to put his hand in my pockets—he kicked me as well—I got hold of his arm, and raised myself up, and as I got up he called to George to come to his assistance—he said "Jack, come!"—George came up, and hit me twice on the head—I fell down, and they kicked me on the hip-bone when I was down—I felt Elliott's band in my pocket; George never touched my pocket at all—he stepped away on to the footpath, and kept saying "It is all right," during the time the other one was trying my pockets—I had 2s. in my pocket—I got up again, and made a run in doors, to my house, and then Elliott hit me again—George called out "Cheese it!" and Elliott picked up my hat and ran away—my hat was sent back the next day by his sister—the police came up, and I gave George in charge before he had time to get away—he was walking away when the police came up—Elliott got away.
George. Q. The next morning, before the Magistrate, did not the Magistrate say to you "Do you believe that they had any intent to rob you?" and you said "Not the prisoner George, but the prisoner Elliott put his hand in my pocket?" A. Yes, and I say so now—I charged you with an assault—I said before, you did not put your hand in my pocket.
Elliott. Q. When you came down the street, was I not speaking to a young woman, opposite your door? A. There was not a woman in the street—I did not see you fighting—the fight was over, and my two boys were in the row, and I called them out—I did not say "You are the man that was fighting the other Sunday.
ALFRED MARSHALL (Policeman E 306). About 1.30, on the morning of 1st Martin, I heard a disturbance in Charles Street—I saw George there, and the prosecutor, whose mouth was bleeding—I asked him what was the matter—he said the prisoner had been assaulting him, and be wished to charge him with an assault—George was walking away—I said "Very well, I will take him in custody, if you charge him," and I took him into custody—he was charged with the assault—I had seen the two prisoners together about a quarter of an hour before—the prosecutor appeared quite sober, and George also—I saw no marks of violence on him—I took Elliott, on a warrant, on the 20th—I had been looking for him in the interval—when he saw me he ran away, and I caught him in Charles Street—I told him the charge—he said "All right, I will come with you quiet"
George. He has made a mistake in saying I was walking away.
PHILIP HINBS (Detective Officer E). Elliott was brought to the station—I told him I held a warrant for his apprehension, for assaulting Andrew Dunn, in Charles Street, with intent to rob him—he said "If he (Dunn) had taken the two quid, there would have been nothing about this"—I had been endeavouring to find him before that—I went to his residence; he was not there—he has been out of our neighbourhood till the night he was apprehended.
Elliott. Q. You inquired for me where I lived? A. Yes, and also at the cellar, in Short's Gardens, and the house in Charles Street.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ELLIN LEONARD . At 1.15 in the morning, I was looking out of my window, and I saw Elliott talking to a young woman—shortly after that, I saw him and the prosecutor having words together—they commenced to fight—the fight lasted about ten minutes—I did not see George near them—when Elliott saw the policeman coming he ran away, and the policeman said "All right, Mr. Elliott, we will hare you"—George was told to go away; he was standing there, and he refused to go—he said what was he to go away for, when he had done nothing—the policeman told the prosecutor that he had better summons him, and the prosecutor said no, he would give him in charge for striking him twice—he was taken, and I saw him no more—I saw Elliott on the ground after the fight commenced, but whether he fell or got knocked down, I can't say—George was on the side of the road where I was lodging, and the prosecutor and Elliott on the other.
Cross-examined. I saw the prosecutor and Elliott arguing together—that was before the fight—I afterwards saw them wrestling together—I was looking out at the window, and when I saw the argument I looked on—I did not see who struck the first blow—I saw them arguing together, and I saw the fight, but I can't say how the fight began—I was looking on all the time—I am an unfortunate girl—I have known both the prisoners, and have spoken to them several times.
ANN CONDON . I live at 11, Charles Street—I was at the door, speaking to Elliott—the prosecutor came down the street, and he came over to Elliott, and said "Were you the man that had a fight last Sunday week—he said "Yes"—then he said "I would like to clear the street of all such as you; will you have a go with me?"—Elliott said "Yes"—they had a fight and Elliott ran away—the policeman came up—George was standing there, and the prosecutor said "I will give him in charge for striking me."
Cross-examined. I do not live with the last witness—I am an unfortunate girl.
NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY .
GEORGE— One Month's Imprisonment.
ELLIOTT— Three Months' Imprisonment.
JOHN ROSS POLLEY . I live at Hay Court, Rupert Market—on Sunday morning, 26th February, about 1 o'clock, I was going down Holborn—I was drunk—I met the prisoners—they spoke to me; I tried to avoid them, but one of them walked in front, and struck me, and I fell to the ground—I called out "Police," they both ran away—and were brought back by a constable a minute or two after—before I met the prisoners I had 18s. in
my breast pocket—I put it there about 11.45—I have not seen it since—I must have lost it; but I can't say that the prisoners took it from me.
JOHN CARTER (Policeman E 64,). About 12.45, on 26th February, I was in High Holborn, and heard cries of "Police!" and "Murder!"—I went to the spot, and saw Tallyand in front of the prosecutor—Farrell was behind him with his hands in his breast pocket; when they saw me they ran away—I pursued them, and they were stopped by Constable Stone—I charged them with knocking the prosecutor down—Farrell said "You won't find any money on me"—I took him to the station and found 6s. 4d. on him—the prisoners were sober, it was with great trouble we got them to the station—the prosecutor was drunk—I had been watching the prisoners some time before, coming up Holborn—they were knocking against everybody, and when they saw this man, one of them knocked him down, and the other one put his hand in his pocket.
GEORGE STONE (Policeman E 44). I was in Holborn and heard cries of "Police!" and "Murder!"—I was going to the spot, and met the two prisoners running—I stopped them, and asked them what was the matter—Tallyand said "There is nothing, only a man going to fight"—they attempted to pass me, but I detained them till the constable and prosecutor came up—he identified them as robbing him, and he said he had lost 16s. 2d.—he produced a paper, which he said he had wrapped the 18s. up in, and put in his breast pocket—the prosecutor had 1s., 6d., 3d., and a penny, in his pocket afterwards.
Tallyand was further charged with having been before convicted.
GEORGE LOCKYER . I produce a certificate (Read) This certified the conviction of James Kennedy, on 14th February, 1870, having house-breaking implements in his possession, Sentence of Twelve Months' Imprisonment. I was present at the trial—the prisoner is the same person—Kennedy is his real name; he assumes the name of Tallyand, who was tried with him, and is now dead.
TALLYAND—GUILTY*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
FARRELL— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HARMSWORTH the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 6th, 1871.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLET conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BOTTOMLEY
WILLIAM GILES . I am a surgeon, of 51, East India Road—on Sunday night, 26th February last, about 6.30, I was called to see the prisoner's wife, at 10, Pigot Street, Limehouse—that was the first time I had seen her—I examined her—she complained of great thirst, and in the chamberpot I found seven clots of arterial blood—I asked if she had a cough—she said "No"—I listened to the chest, and found the sound so obscure that I really could not determine what was the matter with her—I said
"Have you nothing else to tell me?" for I was really going away without knowing what was the matter with her—she said "Yes; I know I shall die; will you see me righted?"—she then made a statement.
COURT. Q. Was that all she said before she began the statement? A. Yes—she died early on the Tuesday morning—she was then dying, in my opinion, but I could not tell exactly from what cause—I had seen enough to form a judgment that she was in a dying condition.
Cross-examined. I was leaving the room, after I had done what I thought requisite, under the impression that she was dying, but to provide remedies with a hope to save her—I could not say how soon she would die—it was not my impression that she would die that night—nothing was sent for to me, for her, afterwards—I advised them to get the parish doctor—I never saw her again before her death—I was asked for a sleeping-draught that night, but I said it would kill her.
MARY WARD . I live with my husband, at 58, Francis Street, Limehouse—I knew the deceased two years—she was the prisoner's wife—I saw her several times before her death—Saturday, 11th February, was the first, when she came to my house after the ill-usage that caused her death—the prisoner came in while she was there—he asked her for the money he had given her, and he struck her in the face with his fist—she made no reply—she cried, and fainted away—the blow made a very bad mark on her face, and it was there when she was dead—I told him the money was in the vase on the chimney-piece, at their lodging; she had told me where she left it—he then went away, and in about three-quarters of an hour she went to Mrs. Payers, at 10, Pigot Street, where she remained till she died—I went there to see her several times—I saw her on Monday night, the 27th, as she died on the next morning—a lady came into the room while I was there—I had some conversation with her about her state—she told me she feared she could not live—she had frequently told me before how she was ill-used, and she told me she did not think she could live, she felt so ill—she told me that several times in the previous week, that the doctor did not give her any hopes—I took the prisoner into her room about 8 o'clock on the Sunday evening previous to her death—she was in bed—she said to him "You villain! you have killed me at last"—he cried, and was going to leave the room—I asked bun to come back and remain with her, as I thought she was dying; and I put a chair by the bedside, and asked him to sit there, and I left the room, and left them together—I did not hear him speak while I was in the room.
Cross-examined. I saw her on the Monday, the next day—she did not ask me to go to Dr. Giles—I heard her say that she should like to see Dr. Giles, and she was going to ask Mrs. McKenzie to fetch him to cure her; that she should like to live a little longer; she should like to see another doctor—that was on the Friday night—Dr. Nightingale had been attending her—she asked me what I thought of her—I told her I thought she was dying—that was on the Friday—she did not say much on the Monday night—she could scarcely breathe then—she asked me to come next morning at 7 o'clock, to see her, and she was dead then—she frequently told me she could not live, after the ill-usage she received from her husband—she always complained of his ill-usage—she told me, on the Monday night, that Dr. Giles was going to send her a sleeping draught, as she had had no sleep for many nights—she said she had no hope; she thought she was dying, and she feared she should not live till the morning.
JANE FATERS . I live at 10, Pigot Street, Limehouse—Mary Desmond came to my house on the Monday week before she died—Dr. Giles came to see her on the Sunday evening, about 7 o'clock, I think—after he had gone, the prisoner came to see her—she was then in bed—I did not hear what passed between them—she said nothing to me about the state of her health.
MR. BOTTOMLEY objected to like reception of the deceased's statement, as a dying declaration, upon this evidence, and referred to the case of "Reg. v. Fagan," 7 Car. & Payne, 238. MR. POLAND, in support of its admissibility, referred to "Reg. v. Jenkins," Law Reports, Crown Cases Reserved, p. 187. The case of "Reg. v. Jones and Cotterell," Sessions Paper, vol. 29, p. 50, was also called to the attention of the Court. MR. BOTTOMLEY then requested and obtained permission to call the following witness to rebut the evidence already given on this point.
MARY MCKNNEITE . I was with Mrs. Desmond during her illness—I was with her on Monday evening, the 27th February—I was there on the Sunday evening, when Dr. Giles was there—after he left, she asked if I thought she would get better; that was about 9 o'clock—I said no doubt she would—I did think so, I never thought it was death—I stopped with her till 10 o'clock—I did not see the prisoner there.
Cross-examined. She did not tell me she feared she should not live till morning—I did not hear her say anything of the kind—I thought she was very bad—she said she had caught a very bad cold—I was present all the time Dr. Giles was there; he came about 9 o'clock—I went for him, and he came about five minutes after me—I heard what she said to the doctor—I did not hear her say "I know I shall die; will you see me righted?"—she never said that; it is untrue—she never named it; no such conversation took place—I have known the prisoner about two years—he is no friend of mine; I never spoke much with him—I knew his wife for years—she was no friend of mine.
DR. GILES (re-examined). I know it was 6.30 on the Sunday evening that I went to see the deceased, because when I left the house, I let my wife out to go to church, and I then went and made up the medicine, and sent it round to the woman; the church bells were ringing when Mrs. Mackensie came to me—to show how little reliance is to be placed upon that witness, she told me that no other doctor had attended her, when she knew Dr. Nightingale had—she was in the room all the time—I remained eight or nine minutes—I have heard the woman Mackenzie's statement, it is untrue.
MR. JUSTICE LUSH, after hearing this evidence, held that the statement of the deceased was admissible; the expression made we of by her, according to the evidence of DR. GILES, which he entirely believed, showed a conviction on her mind that she was really in a dying state.
DR. GILES (continued). When she said "I know I shall die; will you see me righted?" I made no reply, and she said "This night fortnight, at 1.5 in the morning, my husband threw me down and kicked me, And said he would chuck me out"—she then said to Mrs. Mackenzie "Help me to show my bruises"—Mackenzie lifted the clothes off her leg, and she showed me her thigh—there was a bruise on the lower third, and also one on the buttock; they were large black discolourations—they were of a severe character, and fifty hours after death, when I performed the post-mortem examination, they were still there, which is a very unusual thing—they were caused by some heavy instrument, a kick, or something of that kind;
besides those bruises, there were small green patches, evidently the result of previous injuries.
The witness proceeded to describe the postmortem appearances, and stated that death resulted from valvular disease of the heart, which the violence might possibly have accelerated. DR. NIGHTINGALE, who was also examined, could not say that death was accelerated by violence, the disease being of such a nature that she might have died at any time.
NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAMS the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POULTER and KEBLE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU
WILLIAMS the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
The prisoner stating that he wished to PLEAD GUILTY , the Jury found him
GUILTY— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. HUMPHRIES conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BOTTOMLEY the Defence.
SUSANNAH RIDLEY . I am a widow, and live at Susannah Cottages, Mile End Road—the deceased boy, Thomas Henry Ridley, was my son—he would have been fifteen years of age next July—on Sunday evening, 6th March, he left home between 6 and 7 o'clock, to go to the Roman Catholic Chapel, with two more little boys—about a quarter of an hour afterwards, I heard a great noise in the street—I and my daughter ran to the door, and about thirty yards off I saw my boy on the ground, and the prisoner on the top of him, punching him as hard as he was able—I went up and separated them—the prisoner was dragged off by somebody, and I got my boy indoors—next morning he went out about 9 o'clock, well and hearty—about 3.45 he was brought home on the witness Abbott's back—he seemed almost dead to this world—he did not seem to have any sense—I tried to bring him round, and I sent for the prisoner's mother, and she sent for a little brandy—I then took him to the hospital, but he died in my arms on the way.
Cross-examined. I did not know the boys were going to fight on the Monday—I have never had to complain of my boy for fighting—I did not hear him say "It was both our faults"—he said Payne had done it, no other boy had hit him—the prisoner's mother came, and did what she could for me—I did not decline to send for a doctor—I sent for a policeman—he ordered me to send for a doctor directly, and I did—that was about three-quarters of an hour after my son came in.
WILLIAM ABBOTT . I am a painter, and live at 18, John Street, Stepney—on Monday afternoon, 7th March, about 2.30, I was in Watts' beer-shop, in South Grove, with the deceased boy—while we were in there, Payne and the other boys came holloaing round the window "Come out here, Ridley, and I will fight you"—I drank my beer, and Ridley came out with me—I said to him "Don't you fight"—they did fight, Payne and Ridley, in South
Grove, and after the first round they went into Bow Fields to fight it out—I went with them—Payne struck Ridley three or four times; they struck one another—Ridley fell, and Payne fell on him several times—it was a regular fight—the prisoner did not strike him when he was down—Ridley said "I will give you best till I get down to Mr. Ford's*—that is a public-house at the corner of Regent Street—they were going to fight it out again there—the prisoner said "I want best for always," and he struck Ridley, and knocked him down insensible—he was not able to get up again—I carried him home.
Cross-examined. There were three boys there—it was about ten minutes' walk from South Grove to the field—I had never seen Ridley fight before that—they both said they would go to the field to fight it out; I don't know which said it first—it was a fair fight—the blow that knocked him down was in the forehead—it was grassy ground—the blow was not struck unexpectedly; Ridley was on his guard.
MARY CROCKER . I am the wife of William Crocker, of 5, Wellington Road, Bow—on Monday afternoon, 6th March, as I was crossing the field, I saw a group of boys; they had formed a ring to fight—Payne and Ridley commenced fighting, and during the time I stood there, Ridley fell three times from the blows he received from Payne; and each time he fell, Payne fell on him with his knees on his stomach—I then went away, and when I came back they were still fighting—I went for a policeman, but could not find one, and when I returned, Ridley was on the ground insensible. Cross-examined. I did not see the last blow struck.
HENRY MUGGLESTON . I was house-surgeon at the London Hospital—when Ridley was brought there on the Monday afternoon, he was dead—I afterwards assisted in making a post-mortem examination—he had a black eye—on opening the skull, and removing the scalp, there was suffused blood between the scalp and the bone, caused, most probably, by a blow or fall—on removing the bone there was a large clot of blood on the left side of the brain—that was the cause of death—it was probably produced by a blow or fall.
Cross-examined. I should hardly think the fist of the prisoner would be sufficient to produce the result; I don't think it could—it all depends upon the force with which the blow was struck—a fall would be more likely to produce it.
GUILTY — Four Days' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 6th, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
It appearing, by the opening of MR. COOPER for the Prosecution, that there was no corroboration of the prosecutor's evidence, which, even if true, showed consent on his part,
THE COURT directed a verdict of NOT GUILTY .
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS
1st September I was a witness, at Marlborough Street, against a man named George—I met George, the day after, in St. Martin's Lane, and we went to a public-house there, where we found Shannon, Kingwell, M'Carthy, and the two prisoners—I went in a cab, with George, to High-gate, and the others followed, in a second cab—when we got to Millfield Lane, I was led out of the cab by Finch, who knocked me down, kicked me in the side, and knocked me about with a riding-whip, which he took from me—Brown dashed lumps of dry earth on my face, as I lay there, and I was left on the field—I was examined afterwards by a medical man, and gave evidence against the other men, who have been convicted. (See Sessions Paper, October, 1870, page 618). I feel the effects of it now, at times, and my memory fails me very much.
Cross-examined. I was sober—Finch and M'Carthy caught hold of each arm, and led me out of the cab—I did not appeal to the cabman.
COURT. Q. What induced you to go into the cab? A. I was seduced away by George, to have some tea, and be jolly for an hour or two.
Brown. Q. Do you recollect treating me? A. I did nothing of the kind—we went to a second public-house, but I did not treat you there—we did not fall out there, but I believe some of the other men wanted to set you on to me—my motive in going into the cab was not to fight you—I did not agree to pay for one cab, if George would pay for the other—I did not pick out two men to second me—you were not in the same employ with me, as coachman, at 102, Wardour Street.
Q. I can prove you to be a bill-sticker; your master is the celebrated Dr. Henry, and he has put you on to do this; I have worked with you since 1868? A. I do not know it.
MORRIS WHITE . I am a cabman—on 2nd September, about 1 o'clock, I was hired in St. Martin's Lane, and took the prosecutor, and some men, to Millfield Lane, Highgate—I took Brown—I am sure of him—they got out at Millfield Lane—there was a second cab, taking some other people, who got out, too—they got larking, as I thought, and got out of my sight—they were away six or seven minutes, and some of them came back; but the prosecutor did not come back.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prosecutor get out of the cab—he was not in my cab—the driver of the other cab is not here—mine was the second cab.
Brown. Q. When we stopped at the "Bull's Head," Tottenham Court Road; did Anybody tell you to keep me in the cab, because I was to fight this man? A. I did not hear of it—the prosecutor did not go into a public-house, and call for some whiskey, or gin, and come outside, washing his hands with it.
EUGENE AMBLER DELANT . I live at Norfolk Square, Hyde Park, and am in the General Post Office—on 2nd September, I was on the Hampstead Heath side of the Seven Ponds' Field, and saw two cabs come up to the lower stile, Millfield Lane—eight or nine men got out, and went into a field, and there seemed to be a general assault on one man, who I afterwards discovered to be Fairweather—I saw him out about the head with a stick, knocked down, and dragged to the second pond, where Brown flung clay, or mud, in his face—I was within a few yards of them—the lumps of earth were hard, dry clay, on the slope of the pond—his face was covered with blood, and he seemed quite insensible, when they left him lying there—he was taken by two men to the "Duke of St. Albans'," where
they sponged him—I could not interfere, I had two ladies with me, and there were eight or nine great ruffians; but I saw him to the public-house.
CBOOME (Policeman). On the 20th February I took the prosecutor to Manchester, where he identified Browo from twenty others—I read the warrant to him—he said "Yes, I know I did it; I deserve all I get. I should not have done it if it had not been for others"—he said that several times, on the way to London in the train.
PARTRIDGE (Policeman). I saw Finch at Southwark Police Court, on 11th March, and took him to Kentish Town Station—I told him I had seen the warrant for his apprehension for assaulting a man named Fairweather—he said "All right, I will go quietly."
WILLIAM RAWLINGS, M.D . On 2nd September I was called to the police-station, and found Fairweather semi-conscious, and very much cut about the face and head; both his eyes were closed, and his left arm was injured—the injuries were caused by blunt instruments, or by kicks—he was in a very dangerous condition—he was handed over to Mr. Harris.
WILLIAM HENRY HARRIS . I received Fairweather into my care from Mr. Rawlings, and attended him six weeks or two months—he remained unconscious six or eight days, and after that he could scarcely articulate—I considered his life in danger for some time, after he recovered consciousness.
Brown's Defence. The prosecutor has a spite against me, because when I was in the same employ as himself (Dr. Bell's) I would not stick up bills in the City for him, and I was discharged. I have had several altercations with Dr. Henry with regard to 7s. 6d. which he owes me. Dr. Bell never had a coachman; where would he get a coach? He only has a trap, in which he goes out looking after the bill posters in the urinals; through these altercations it was determined that I was to fight Fairweather, that is the truth.
GUILTY on the Second Count,
BROWN*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
FINCH**— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. HARRIS and HUMPHERY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
It appeared, from the medical evidence, that the cause of death was rupture of the womb, caused, probably, by the presence of twins, and not by any neglect of the prisoner, who was the surgeon attending the deceased.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY, for the Prosecution, proceeded on the Second Count only; MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Defence.
EDWARD BROOKS . I am coachman to Emanuel Meeson, and live with my wife, over the stable, at 56, Lancaster Mews—I have the employment of the helpers—I engaged the prisoner as a helper, on 1st March, at 1l. 1s. per week, and gave him notice, on 4th March, to leave on Saturday 15th March, as he did not suit me—on Wednesday, 8th March, I was out with the carriage—I returned about 5.30—I took out one horse, and the prisoner
the other, and they were put into the stable—there were seven trusses of straw there, in a small pony stall, piled up end-ways—a horse was put in the compartment next the straw—the gas was eleven feet off, and I always leave it on the glimmer, and it was so when I went up to have some tea—I left Look in the stable, and no one else—in two or three minutes I heard the horses kick, and went down immediately, because I thought he was knocking them about—I found the seven trusses of straw in flames, and the fire had gone right along, and broken every pane of glass in the place—no one was there—I fancy one horse was out when I got down, but I will not swear it—I got the other out—the prisoner was outside, but he never offered to do anything—he folded his arms, and even when we were picking the straw out he never assisted us—the horse was injured.
Cross-examined. I was up stairs about five minutes—I gave the prisoner notice to leave because he did not suit me—I sent him to milk a cow while I was out with the carriage, and he refused, and he did not suit me in other respects—I live over the stable—I heard no one shouting—the stable-door was open.
MARY ANN BROOKS . I am the wife of the last witness—on 8th March the prisoner threatened my husband, the coachman, and the groom, and then he said "I will knock you down," and he did so—I should say that he had been drinking—I scratched his face, and then went up stairs, and looked myself up—my husband came in with the hones, and came up stairs—I had poured the tea out before he came up, and in four or five minutes, before he had finished one cup of tea, or eaten anything, the place was on fire—one staircase leads into the stable—I saw the prisoner standing by a woman in the mews, with his arms folded—he did nothing to put out the fire.
Cross-examined. He did nothing that I saw—I went into the stable to get the keys, to get the water—I followed my husband down, and found the prisoner standing in the mews—he did not ring the bell, which he could have done—the stable-door was open, and seven trusses of straw were on fire—the prisoner said in the afternoon, that he would knock the three men down, and my husband first—he hit me on the side of my head, and put his hands here to keep me down, and I scratched his face—I did not tell a constable I was too much alarmed—when my husband came in I gave him his tea, and let the prisoner remain.
JOSEPH SINGLETON . I am a stableman for another coachman, in the same mews—on 8th March, about 4.30, I was coming from my tea, and met the prisoner—he had scratches on his face—I asked him who did it—he said "Mother Brooks"—I said "What did you do to her?"—he said "Nothing, it was only Lent; I will make it hot for them before night."
Cross-examined. I was not examined at the Police Court, as he was taken up in the morning, and committed at once—I was subpoenaed here—a helper in the mews, who is not here, and who was sweeping up at the time this was said, mentioned that Lock had said this to me, and the policeman came to me three days afterwards.
THOMAS BADCOCK . I live at 57, Lancaster Mews—on 8th March, I saw volumes of smoke coming out of the stable, and I said to the prisoner, who was standing at the stable door, with his arms folded, "Have you got a smoky house, or is the stable on fire?"—he calmly said "The stable is on fire"—my first thing was to get the horses out, and I got pretty well scorched—the prisoner did not help me, and he did nothing to put out the
fire, in my presence—no one was there but him—it had commenced to burn from the bottom—I was present when the constable found something.
Cross-examined. The stable door was open—the prisoner was not talking to anyone—I saw Mrs. Brooks come down after the alarm was given—I did not hear a boy shout out—I was first in the stable.
CHARLES WAYMARK . I live at 36, in these mews—I saw the stable on fire—the prisoner was at the door, doing nothing—I went for water, and he was then taking away a box of his own clothes—I saw no one else near the stable when first I saw the fire.
Cross-examined. After I got there Badcock came—the prisoner stood with his arms like this—I did not speak to him—the door was open—he brought his clothes from the harness-room, and chucked them down outside—I did not see him try to put the fire out—I saw Mrs. Brooks come down—I did not see the prisoner then—I saw Brooks, holding the harness, outside the stable—I did not see the prisoner bring a horse out, as well as his own clothes—a great many people were there.
JOSEPH NEWMAN (Policeman H R 20). I examined the stable after the fire, and found among the cinders this old sack, on the floor, by the side of the stall, partially burnt, and saturated with water—I took the prisoner at 8 o'clock, and told him he would be charged with setting fire to the stable—he said "All right, Sir."
Cross-examined. He did not, in my hearing, say that he did not know anything about the fire—I did not try this sock on to the prisoner.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:" I do not know anything about the fire, Sir."
Witnesses for the Defence.
CHARLES BALL . I am in Mr. Lynch's employ, at Lancaster Mews—on 8th March, at 5.50, I was having my tea, and heard the alarm of fire—I ran into the mews, and saw smoke coming from the stable door—I saw the prisoner—he called "Fire!" and said "For God's sake, Charley, come and help me to get the horses out"—I took a pail of dirty water, and threw it over the horses—during that time the prisoner was taking the other horse out—he then ran back to my assistance, and asked me to get to the horses' heads, but I could not—I am not sure whether the prosecutor got to the horses' heads, but I swear the prisoner brought both horses out.
Cross-examined. I knew, the same evening, that he was given in custody, but I did not know that I was obliged to go to the Police Court.
COURT. Q. Did you see Badcock there? A. He passed me—I went into the stable before him—I was the first man in the stable—he went to the fire after the horses were out—he did not do anything till they were out—the prisoner handed me several pails of water—I saw Waymark there, and snatched a pail of water from his hands, to throw over the burning horse—he did nothing to put out the fire, because he is a cripple—the prisoner got both horses out—I will not swear who let the second horse loose, but I saw the prisoner leading them both out, and he ran to my assistance—the horse was lying down, kicking.
Cross-examined. I knew he was in custody the same night, but I did not go to the Police Court.
Cross-examined. Charles Ball was with me when he called "Fire!"—I saw smoke coming out at the window—no one was near me then but the prisoner—I was asked last Saturday to come and be a witness.
Cross-examined. Brooks did not get out one horse, and Waymark the other, but I saw them in the stable—I was close to the stable door when I first saw the fire—Mrs. Brooks was there.
COURT. Q. Was it after Mrs. Brooks came down that the horses were brought out? A. Yes.
Cross-examined. I was at my lodge door, where I could see the stable—there was no one near the stable when I looked but the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I was at my lodge door—there was a good deal of confusion and smoke—I never saw the prisoner standing with his arms folded.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, April 6th, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
328. HENRY DUNN (27), AMELIA DUNN (23), WILLIAM KITCHEN (23), and ELLEN KITCHEN (26) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Frank Monteith Force, and stealing 150 pieces of lace, and other goods.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
SELINA LEVERS . I live at 29, Oxford Street, and am manager to Mr. Force, who is a milliner there—on 4th March, the premises were closed up safely, about 10.30—I slept at the top of the house, with a servant—Mr. and Mrs. Force were out of town—on Sunday morning, I found the stock-room door open, the room in great confusion, and a great many things taken away, to the value of 212l.—I went to the police-station, and gave information—I afterwards saw the things at the station—the till was quite secure on Saturday night—on Sunday morning, it was all broken away in front.
HENRY HANN . I am porter to Mr. Force—on Saturday night, 4th March, I locked up the shutter-box, which is close to the private door, in Winsley Street—it is where the shutters are placed in the day-time, and at night it is empty—the flooring was all right—when I came on the Monday morning, I found the door had been forced, and part of the flooring of the shutter-box was up—anyone could get through into the cellar, and from the cellar to any part of the house.
CHARLBS BUTCHER (Detective Officer C). On Saturday night, 4th March, I was with Detective Shrives, in Wells Street, Oxford Street—about 10.30, I saw Dunn and Kitchen in a public-house—we went a little way past the public-house, and watched them a short time, and when they came out, I lost sight of them—we afterwards went to 38, George Street, Hampstead Road, where the two Dunns live—we got there about 11.30—we remained till 12.10, when Dunn came up, opened the door with a latch-key, and went in—he came out in about twenty minutes, with Amelia Duun—they went away together—Shrives left me, and went in a cab for
Beechy, another detective—after they returned, we remained till 3.30 when Amelia Dunn returned, and I went into No. 38—she came out again ai 5.30, and Shrives followed her—he returned, and about 6.30 the two females came together—Dunn opened the door, and they went in—they came out again, a little after 7 o'clock, and Beechy and Shrives followed them—they returned to me a little before 8 o'clock, and a few minutes afterwards I saw Henry Dunn, Amelia Dunn, and William Kitchen, coming down George Street, from the direction of the Euston Road—Amelia Dunn was carrying a large bundle on her head, in this bag (produced)—Henry Dunn opened the door, and they all three went in—about five minutes after, I saw Ellen Kitchen come down the street, in the same direction—she looked into the kitchen window of 38, the door was opened, and she went in—she remained a few minutes, and then came out, with Amelia Dunn—Shrives and Beechy followed them—they came back in about ten minutes—by that time I had sent to the station, and got some constables in uniform—I went and knocked at the house-door—it was opened by the landlady—as I was going down the kitchen stairs, I saw Dunn shut the door—I opened it, and said to Dunn "Harry, I want you, and this property you have just brought in here; I don't think it is all right"—he said "I have not brought anything in; I have only just got up; you see, I have not my boots on yet"—I said "No, you did not bring it in; but your old woman did, and you were with her"—he said "I am glad you were not here ten minutes before"—I said "That would have made no difference; they are both in custody, and gone to the station"—Kitchen was there, with Dunn—he does not live there—Dunn lives there, and the female—I said "Harry, have you got any tools here, if you have, you may as well give them to me at once, as I shall be sure to find them"—he said "No, I have got nothing here whatever, only what belongs to me"—I found a quantity of tools under the floor, close to the fire-place—seventeen skeleton keys, six or seven centre-bits, a dark lantern, 3 chisels, a jemmy, and other burglarious implements—I compared the marks on the shutter-box with the jemmy, and they corresponded—one of the skeleton keys fitted the look of the shutter-box—the other officers will explain the finding of the property—the prisoners were taken to the station—I found the till had been bored through with a centre-bit—one of the centre-bits, which I found, fits the hole—when I found the tools, Dunn said "You have got some good ones there; they were all left to me by a man who has gone away."
PHILIP SHRIVES (Detective Officer). I was with Butcher, and found the whole of this property in Dunn's house—it consists of lace, silks, satins, and ribbons—I found part on the bed, and the rest in this bag, which I had seen the woman carrying—Beechy and I followed the women when they went out, about 7 o'clock—we saw them meet the two men in Charles Street, Middlesex Hospital, about 8 o'clock—the men handed the women each a bundle—Dunn carried her on her head, it contained the things that were in the bag—five ladies' jackets were found at Kitchen's lodgings afterwards—after the men handed the bundles to the women, we went back to Butcher in George Street—we saw the two Dunns and William Kitchen come there, the female was carrying the bundle on her head, and they went in—some time afterwards the other woman came, she had not her bundle with her—Beechy and I followed the women after they left the house, took them in custody, handed them over to two men in uniform, and sent them to the station—we went back to Dunn's house, and found all these things
—after we had taken them into the station, and charged them, we went back to Kitchen's house—I found five ladies' jackets, tied up in this piece of canvas, in a bundle, similar to that which I had seen Ellen Kitchen carrying.
William Kitchen. Q. Where were we when you were watching the four of us? A. In Cleveland Street—Ellen Kitchen was there.
Re-examined. Kitchen was with Dunn in Wells Street at 12.30, when I was with Butcher—I did not see him after that, till I saw him near the Middlesex Hospital.
Dunn. Q. Where where you at the time I gave my wife a bundle? A. I stood at the corner—we followed the women right away from George Street—we did not come over and take you then, because we had not enough assistance—Ellen Kitchen took the canvas bundle to 18, Stanhope Street.
HENRY SHAW (Police Inspector). I took the charge against the prisoners—I went to the house where the robbery was committed—I found the shutter-box open, and a hole in the flooring, wrenched up by some powerful instrument, large enough to admit the body of a man; the cobwebs and dust had been swept away by some body passing through—I found several drawers broken open, and upon this chisel is some paint, exactly corresponding with the paint on the drawers.
Henry Dunn, in his defence stated, that on the Sunday morning, his wife went out to borrow a few shillings; she came back with Mrs. Kitchen, and the two women went to get some things for breakfast; that he then went out, and met the two females coming down Cleveland Street, carrying a parcel each, which they said they had found; that they went home, and Mrs. Kitchen went to her own place.
Amelia Dunn's Defence. I was going by Middlesex Hospital. I saw two large parcels, and I said to Mrs. Kitchen "There is no one here; I think they have been left here." I told my husband we bad found them. We came out to get the breakfast things, and two constables came out to us, and locked us up; I did not know what it was for at all.
William Kitchen's Defence. I went for a walk with Mr. Dunn, and met my wife in Cleveland Street, and said "What have you got? She said she found it, and I said "We will bring it home, and go to the police-station, and if we can't find the owner, it will be our property." We had not been in long before the policemen came down and took us.
Ellen Kitchen's Defence. I was not out till 7 o'clock on Sunday morning.
GUILTY —HENRY DUNN also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted, in November, 1863; and AMELIA DUNN to having been convicted in November, 1868.
HENRY DUNN**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
AMELIA DUNN**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude
WILLIAM KITCHEN**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
ELLEN KITCHEN*— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
There were several other indictments against the prisoners.
THE COURT ordered a reward of 5l. each to be given to Butcher, Shrives, and Beechy.
THE COURT was of opinion that the allegations of perjury were not supported by the testimony of any two witnesses, and directed a verdict of NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Protection; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
HENRY READ . I saw my brother's dead body at St. George's Hospital, on 1st January—he was a messenger, and sold a temperance newspaper—he was a teetotaller, and had been for four years—I saw him about a month or six weeks before 27th December—he was then in good health—his health was generally good—he was forty-two years of age.
Cross-examined. I think he had been a messenger four years—he led a curious life—he had been a crossing-sweeper—I certainly had not seen much of him—I was in a better position than he was—I am an officer's servant—I can't say whether he was married—I think I saw him about once in three weeks—I saw him in Knightsbridge—he came to see me.
Re-examined. He was always in good health when I saw him—he never made any complaint at all—he was near-sighted—he had to take a book close to his eyes, but he could see across the road distinctly—he was in poor circumstances, but I don't think he suffered from want—he had no feebleness of the limbs, or anything of that kind.
WILLIAM CLARIDGE . I am house-surgeon at St. George's Hospital—I was assistant house-surgeon the whole of last year, and have been at the hospital five or six years—I have had a large experience of accidents during that time—on 27th December last the deceased, Edward Read, was brought in between 10.30 and 11.30—I was present at the examination—the man who had charge of the case is dead—I saw the deceased from the time he came in until his death—his right leg was fractured at the lower part—it was a clean break—there was a wound on the other leg, in a line with the other wound—those injuries would fairly be caused by a Hansom cab going over them—he seemed to be going on all right—his nervous system was not affected in any way—the fracture was treated as any other would be, and dressing applied to the wound—it was thought of very little importance—I saw him afterwards from day to day, up to 1st January—he was under my care most of the time—on the 29th he became rather incoherent, and said "Mind your own business," when some one spoke to him—that may have been the result of shook to the system by accident, but it may proceed from other causes—on the 30th he became rather more incoherent, and remained so all day—on 31st ha became comatose, and had a slight squint—that is usually a sign of pressure on the brain; coma was coming on gradually—he died at 6.50, on 1st. January, in the evening—the post-mortem examination was not made till six days afterwards—we prefer making the examination immediately after death, but we can't do it without the Coroner's order, and we did not touch the body—there was not much indication of decomposition on the 6th day—it was cold weather—I made the examination—the organs were all healthy—there was a slight dampness about the brain, which might have come on after death—congestion of the brain was the cause of death—whether that was caused by shock to the system or not I can't positively say.
Cross-examined. I can't account for the congestion in any way—no one that I have spoken to on the subject can go beyond conjecture; they can
only say "I should think"—neither myself, nor as far as I am able to say, any other medical man, could pledge himself that this running over was the cause of congestion of the brain—we can't trace it to the accident, or to any other cause—I did not notice any peculiarity of the eyes before the squint set in—short-sightedness might indicate weakness of the brain—I have never seen congestion of the brain resulting from violence, without some external or internal marks on the body—I am speaking of the body itself—the legs are not a vital part—it very often occurs after violence to the body—blows on the head, or the neighbourhood of the head, or anything of that sort—the dampness on the brain mostly results from diseased kidneys, which he had not—it might have resulted from the congestion, or from the post-mortem.
COURT. Q. You are enabled to give it as your professional opinion that the congestion was the cause of death? A. Yes—I am unable to say that that was in consequence of the accident.
THE COURT directed a verdict of NOT GUILTY .
ELIZA LETTS . I live at 8, Harwood Terrace, Fulham, and am married—on the night of 27th December I was in Thistle Grove, going towards Fulham, on the right-hand side of the road as you go towards Fulham—I saw the deceased, Read, on the left-hand side—he hailed an omnibus, which was going to London—it did not stop, and he stepped off the pavement—a Hansom cab, with a grey horse, came along, and ran over him—it was going very fast—I did not see the man fall, I only saw the cab go over him—I did not notice whether there was anyone riding in the cab—I went across to the man—someone called out for the cabman to stop, and several ran after him—the man was lying with his head towards the kerb, and his feet in the road—it was a very snowy night—the cab had gone over his legs—I went into a chemist's shop with him—some persons helped him in, and I went, too, because I picked the man's things up—he was taken from the chemist's to the hospital—I did not see anything more of the cab—it occurred about 10.30.
Cross-examined. It was snowing very fast, and there was a great deal of snow on the ground—it was not a very dark night, on account of the snow—the cab went between the omnibus and the pavement.
RICHARD MARTIN . I live at 8, Clifton Place—I have known the prisoner over a year, by seeing him about—I am a greengrocer—I work for Mrs. Robert, 227, Fulham Road—I know the prisoner's stables in Colcherne Mews—on Tuesday night, 27th December, I was standing at the corner of Clifton Road, about twenty yards from Thistle Grove—I saw the deceased going across the road—he hailed the omnibus—I saw a Hansom cab, with a grey horse, coming along at about ten miles an hour, driven by Hill—it knocked the deceased down, and ran over him—it did not pull up—a great many persons called out "Stop the cab!"—he went straight to the stables—he drove faster after they called to him—I followed, from where the man was run over, to the stables—he turned round the Hollywood Road, round Fawcett Street, across Redcliffe Gardens, into Finborough Street—I followed with the constable, Mitchell—he did not stop at all—we lost sight of him when he turned into the Fiuborough Road—about three minutes after we lost sight of the cab we met constable Manning, and Mitchell asked him
whether he had seen a Hansom cab go down—we then went to the stable, in Coleherne Mews, and saw the prisoner come out at the stable door—the cab was outside, and the horse still in the shafts—I did not notice what state the horse was in—there was someone in the cab, but I did not see who it was—the policeman said something to the prisoner, but I did not understand what it was exactly—he was taken into custody and taken away.
Cross-examined. I have been on speaking terms with the prisoner—I have seen him on the ranks when I have been going past—I have not been to his house, or anything of that sort—I can't say how many times I have spoken to him—I never had any conversation with him; I have spoken to him, but not to say a conversation—I am a greengrocer and potman—I was potman at the "King's Arms" fifteen months—that was my last trade—when I saw the cab in the yard I did not notice three persons in it—the cab passed me about eight or nine yards off—I was standing at the corner, by the "Clifton Arms"—I had come from 8, Clifton Place, where I live—I should think it was about a mile from the place where the man was run over to the stables—I ran all that way—I was not much out of breath—I was about forty yards behind the cab—Mitchell ran with me—he had his long coat on—I should think the cab was going about ten miles an hour when it ran over the man—it went faster afterwards—it was not going very fast before it ran over the man—when he came along he was driving at a proper pace—nothing attracted my attention till after the man was run over—I have been a driver—I have driven a horse and van.
Re-examined. I saw the cab knock the man down—it was not going very fast before that—I did not see anything done to the horse afterwards—I saw him whip it.
COURT. Q. You said, on the first examination, "The Hansom cab came along at ten miles an hour, and ran over the deceased;" and then, on cross-examination, you say "He was driving a proper pace, ten miles an hour." What is a proper pace? A. I am not much of a driver; I don't know now they go along.
EDWARD MITCHELL (Policeman T 228). I was in the Fulbam Road on the night of 27th December—my attention was called to the prisoner, who was driving a Hansom cab, along the Fulham Road, at a furious pace—I was told he had run over a man—I saw several persons running after the cab—there was a white horse in the cab—it was going about ten miles an hour—I saw him first about eight yards from the place of the accident—I called to the cabman, and he went faster—I did not see whether there was anyone in the cab—as he passed the cab rank, the cabmen called out "Mark Hill, stop; the policeman is calling you"—the cab-stand is about twenty or thirty yards from where the accident was—he paid no attention to that call, and I pursued him for upwards of half a mile—he passed over the Hollywood Road, down Fawcett Street, through Redcliffe Gardens, into the Finborough Road, where I lost sight of him—I followed the tracks of the wheels until I saw Manning—I asked him whether he had seen a Hansom cab—he said he had, and he had followed him to the place where he had stopped—I went with him to the place, and saw the prisoner just getting down from the box—I did not see anyone in the cab—the cab had been out of sight three or four minutes, and about two minutes before I saw Manning—the cab did not go to the "Gunter Arms"—it could have gone there, in the direction I have spoken of—when I got up, and found the prisoner getting off the cab, I
found he was drunk—I asked him whether he remembered running over a man in the Fulham Road—he said "Yes, is he hurt?"—I told him he must accompany me to the station—he could walk, but very badly—it is about half a mile to the station from the mews—we got to the station about 11 o'clock—I did not notice in what condition the horse was—it was about 10.30 when the accident happened—it was about half a mile from the place of the accident to the stables.
Cross-examined. I have not measured it—I should think it was a little over half a mile—the cabmen on the rank called out "Mark Hill!"—there were four or five on the rank—none of them are here—I did not notice whether there were any persons in the cab at the time it passed me—it was snowing fast—I was present at the inquest—I did not hear Martin examined—when I came up to the cab, the prisoner was getting off his box—it was a very cold night—the prisoner swayed from one side to the other—I did not see that he was stamping his feet—when I said "You have run over a man," he did not say "I have done nothing of the sort; or, if I have, I know nothing about it"—I pledge my oath, he did not say that—I said "Do you remember running over a man, in the Fulham Road?" and he said "Yes, is he hurt?"—I did not take notes of what he said, only in my memory—I was present before the Coroner's Jury—Mr. Martin and Mr. Carey were called—the verdict was, that there was not sufficient evidence to show by what means the death was caused.
Re-examined. From the time I commenced pursuing the cab, there was no other cab in the road.
WALTER MANNING (Policeman T 385). I was on duty in the Finborough Road, on the night of 27th December—I saw Hill driving his Hansom cab up the Finborough Road, very fast—I knew him before, and knew where his stables were—there was no one in the cab—he was going towards his stables, at a pace of nine or ten miles an hour—I met Mitchell about two minutes afterwards, and we went into the mews—the prisoner was just at the foot of the mews, getting off his cab—the horse was in the shafts—Mitchell asked him if he remembered running over a man, in the Fulham Road—he said "Yes, is he hurt?"—the prisoner was drunk—we took him to the station, and got there about 11 o'clock—it was about 10.35 when I saw him pass me, driving rapidly—there was deep snow in the road, and no other track—I followed the track—I say the man was drunk, because he could hardly stand when he got off his box.
EDWIN DIBBIN (Police Sergeant T 28). I was acting inspector at the police-station on the 27th December, when the prisoner was brought there in custody by Mitchell and Manning—they arrived about 11 o'clock—the prisoner was drunk—he was assisted on each side by Mitchell and Manning—I could not get anything satisfactory from him, and his breath was very bad—he was violent in the cell—I told him he was charged with being drunk and furiously driving, and a minute or two after a boy came in and said that he had driven over somebody in the Fulham Road, and he had been taken to the hospital—he was put in the cell—in a few minutes some-one came to bail him—I went to the cell and said "Here is someone come to bail you, but since you have been here someone has said you have run over a man in the Fulham Road"—he said "Then he should have got out of the way."
Cross-examined. I stated that before Mr. Ingham—the charge was taken at 11 o'clock—I am sure about the time.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM HENRY MARTIN . I live at Blenheim House, Fulham, and I am a manufacturer of whips and walking sticks, in the Burlington Arcade—I have known the defendant nearly three years—he has always borne the character of a sober, well conducted man—I have frequently ridden in his cab—he has always been a steady and sober driver—on Tuesday night, the 27th December, I left my premises in the Burlington Arcade with Mr. Carey and another gentleman—I was quite sober—we got into the defendant's cab outside the Burlington, in Piccadilly—I was the shortest of the three, and I sat on the other's knees—it was then about 10.30—I told him to drive down the Fulham Road, he knew where to go to—there was certainly no appearance of his being drunk—we drove past the corner of Thistle Grove, and past the cab stand, right along the Fulham Road to the, "Gunter Arms," where we arrived about 10.55 as near as possible—we went past the end of the Holywood Road, but we did not turn down there—we got out at the "Gunter Arms" and dismissed the cab—I gave him 2s. 6d., he wished me "Good night," and said "A happy new year to you, gentlemen"—it was an intensely cold night—between the time we got in at Piccadilly and the time I discharged him, we had not run over anyone, to my knowledge—I had not heard anyone call out "Mark Hill, stop!"—we travelled at a moderate pace—the distance is about three miles, and we were half an hour, within two or three minutes, doing it—he did not increase the pace at any time, or whip the horse up, or anything of that sort, nor did we drive into Redclifie Gardens or the Finborough Road.
Cross-examined. The Burlington Arcade closes at 8 o'clock—I rarely leave till 10.30—I have the supervision of the constables there—the third gentleman who was with me was Mr. John Pulley, a personal friend—Mr. Carey is the other gentleman, he is here—we had not been enjoying ourselves more than ordinarily—we meet there every Tuesday, and this happened to fall on a Tuesday—it is a social meeting every Tuesday night—whenever I have seen the prisoner he has been a sober and well conducted man—I have employed him for more than two years—when he has been there I prefer him to anyone I know in his line—I do not know he had been convicted of drunkenness as a driver—I asked him whether he had ever been convicted, and he said "No, Sir, I have a clean license"—that is not the ground on which I say he is a sober man—I have always seen him sober—I engaged him at 10.30 at the Burlington—I know the time because I looked at my watch—I know it was Tuesday night, the 27th, because of the social meeting, and the Tuesday after Christmas—we don't have meetings any other night but Tuesday, and I will swear it was Tuesday, the 27th—I have a cab nearly every night, sometimes a Hansom and sometimes a four-wheeler—I was called upon to give evidence when the man died in the hospital—I knew the man was charged with an accident—he called on me next day and told me so—he did not say "It served the man right; he should have got out of the way"—he said he was falsely charged—he was quite sober on the Tuesday, and on the Wednesday when he called on me—we all three went in the cab because we chose to do so—I paid for the lot—I have never said we wanted him to go as quickly as he could—I was not in a hurry—I never gave him such instructions.
WILLIAM CAREY . I live at 24, Panoma Place, Fulham, and am a French boot maker, at 57, Wardour Street—on Tuesday evening, 27th December, I got into a cab with Mr. Martin and a friend, about 10.30, at Piccadilly—
we were perfectly sober—as far as I could see the cabman was sober—he drove steadily and properly—we got out near the "Gunter Arms"—as far as I could judge we had not run over anybody between getting in and getting out—I did not hear any cries of "Mark Hill, stop!" or anything of that sort, or feel any jerk—it was rather a rough night, and we should not observe it—we kept on the same pace all the way—there was no galloping or whipping the horse up—I should not think we went faster than it was possible for a man to run at any time—we passed the end of Hollywood Road—we did not turn down there or go into Redcliffe Gardens—I have been driven by the prisoner before—perhaps once a week—he has always been a steady, sober driver.
Cross-examined. We had not been enjoying ourselves this evening—we were in the habit of meeting there—we had a glass of gin and water and a cigar—I left my shop at 8.30, and we left the arcade at 10.30—I can fix the time because one of the gentlemen in the room said "We are rather late to night," I took out my watch and it was about 10.20—as a rule we break up about 10—the other gentleman was staying with Mr. Martin, where he was spending Christmas—we were not in a hurry to get home—we were put down opposite the "Gunter Arms'—the nearest point at which I will pledge myself we went to the "Gunter Arms" that night, is thirty yards—I was sitting on the off-side of the cab—Mr. Martin was sitting in front of me—I looked at the time at 10.20, and we put on our hats and coats, and I suppose by the time we got out of the Burlington Arcade it would bring us up to the half-hour—I should say the "Gunter Arms" is about three miles and a half—we did not go ten miles an hour, nor yet eight—I should say we were going six or seven miles an hour, nearer seven than six perhaps—we did it in a few minutes less than half an hour.
AMELIA PERRY . I live at Coleherne Mews, West Brompton, where the prisoner puts up—I am married—my husband's name is William Perry—he is a cab proprietor—I believe the prisoner owns the cab he drives himself—on Tuesday, 27th December, I remember the prisoner driving into the yard—I live over his stable—he does not live there—when he drove into the mews I asked him how the roads were, whether they were not very bad—he said they were very bad indeed—as far as I could see he was perfectly sober—I saw the policeman come into the yard—I did not notice whether he was very much out of breath—I did not hear what the policeman said—I heard them talking—he was getting down from his box when I spoke to him—the policeman came in a few seconds after—I believe he was then standing at the stable door.
WILLIAM BRADFORD . I am a cab-driver, and live at 8, Stamford Street, Fulham—I have been a cab-driver nine years—I have known the prisoner six years—he has always been a careful and sober driver—I was on the cab rank, just by Thistle Grove, on Tuesday night, 27th December—I did not see any person run over, or hear of it—I was on the rank from about 9.50 till about 10.54 or 10.55—I did not hear anyone call out "Mark Hill"—I saw the prisoner driving his cab, like a sober man, at about five or six miles an hour—I heard no cries—he was going in the direction of the "Gunter Arms,"—as he went by, a servant called me—he was about twenty or twenty-five yards from me—he went up towards the "Gunter Arms," and I picked up a lady, and went to the Argyll Rooms—I saw Mitchell, the constable, the next morning, outside the "King's Arms," in the Fulham Road—I said nothing to him.
Cross-examined. I was before the Magistrate, but I was not called—I was on the stand at 9.50—I was not sitting on my box all the time—I had a glass of ale, and a pipe—I did not hear anyone calling out, or see any persons running—it was 10.54 or 10.55 when I saw Hill—it was snowing very fast—there was a fare inside the cab—I am not on that stand every night, or every other night—it was the night after boxing-night—I went to the Argyll Booms with a lady—I went off the stand as Hill passed, and followed him to where I took the lady up—there were some gentlemen in Hill's cab—I could not swear to them.
Re-examined. I was hailed next morning by Mitchell, the policeman, to take the prisoner to the Police Court—I refused to carry him—the road was very bad, and I said I would go home.
CHARLES GAYLAND . I am a saddler, at 1, Hare Street, Piccadilly—on Tuesday night, 27th December, I saw Mr. Martin, and two other gentlemen, get into the prisoner's cab—he had been waiting at the bottom of the arcade—he frequently waits there for Mr. Martin—they got into the cab, and Hill took the rug from his horse's back, threw it on the top of the cab, and drove away—as far as I could see, he was sober—I have ridden in his cab—I have always found him a steady, sober driver.
Cross-examined. I have not been in Court during the trial—I was one of the party, on this night, with Mr. Martin—we broke up at 10.30, as near as possible—that is the regular time—there is no decided time that I am aware of—a remark was made, that it was getting later than usual—it was 10.30 as we came out of the arcade, and that was the time they got into the cab.
The prisoner received a good character, as a sober, steady driver, from three other witnesses.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and HUMPHRIES appeared for Campbell, and MESSRS. STRAIGHT and HORACE BROWN for Calbraith.
GEORGE GREENHAM . I am a detective sergeant, of Scotland Yard—I prepared this plan (produced)—it is accurate—it is not to scale, but I have measured the distances, and put them down correctly; the figures represent feet and inches.
JOHN BARNES (Policeman K 87). I am stationed at West Ham—on the evening of 9th February last, about 7.15, I was on duty in the Romforod Road, Stratford—I saw a brother constable talking to three men and a woman there—I heard him speak to them—Campbell is one of the men; I saw them about two or three minutes—they then went on in front of us, towards Ilford—a brother constable was with me—they turned up Vicarge Lane, near Mr. Pedley's house, which is a little way down the lane—on 20th February, I saw Campbell at the West Ham Station—he was placed, with eight others, in the library-room there—I identified him at once as the man I saw in the Romford Road with two others.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. The man I saw had a slight black
moustache, no whiskers; I am quite sure of that—I did not know the other men I saw at the West Ham Station; they were strangers, picked out from the mob outside—I was fetched from a beat I was on, in Forest Lane—there were two other constables, I think, in the room; one was Detective Foster; I don't know the name of the other—there were two inspectors waiting just outside the door—Mr. Clark was one of them; he is the inspector who took Campbell into custody—I was told what I was going in there for—I did not see any of the other witnesses there—it was for about two or three minutes that I saw the men standing in the road, and 6.45 at night—it was a very dark night, but the men stood under the lamp.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I was in Court when the other witnesses were examined, at Stratford; everybody was in Court.
Re-examined. When I went into the library-room at the station, I was told to go in, to see if I knew any of those men that were there.
COURT. Q. You say the men were talking to a brother constable; was that the constable who was walking with you? A. He was about twenty yards ahead of me; he was not with me at the time—I was not within twenty yards of them—when he stopped, of course I caught up to him, and I was then close to them—I went on walking, and got up to them—I was close to them before they went on.
MARTHA BARKER . I am lady's-maid to Mrs. Pedley—the house is in the Romford Road, close to Maiden's Alley—on the night of 9th February, about 7.15, I heard the front gate bell ring—the housemaid was not present, and I went to the door—it is a half glass door—I looked through it, towards the road, and saw a man on the palisading—there is a gravel front between the house and the road—I opened the door, and went down to the man—it was Campbell—I asked him what right he had there—he said it was all right, would I give him a light for his pipe—I said it was not all right, and requested him to get down—he said it was all right, again—a policeman came up, and then he got down, when he saw the policeman coming, and he went away as far as I could see, with the policeman, and I went in doors—there were two more men behind the pillar of the gate, but I did not see them, no more than just to see that they were men; I did not see anything of them—they were there when I first went out in the road, just without the gate—Campbell was on the palisading, just over the bell—I don't think a man could put his arm over and reach the bell from the outside; but in getting over he would have knocked the bell—he was half way one side and half the other, when I saw him—I did not see him again till 4th March, at Ilford, with others; I don't know how many, I should think eight—I identified him, and told the inspector which was the man.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I may have said before the Magistrate, on 4th March, "I should say it was the first prisoner, Campbell"—I said it was Campbell—I don't remember exactly what I did say—I know Campbell is the man—I did not say, in answer to a question that he put to me, "I could not say positively you are the man"—I said "I should not like to swear to you, but I believe you to be the man"—I did not say I could not swear positively to him, I said I should not like to.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I was in Court the whole time on that day, and heard all the witnesses examined.
Re-examined. I say now that Campbell is the man I Saw on the palisading; I have not the least doubt of it.
COURT. Q. Did you observe which way the men went when they went away? A. Towards Maiden's Alley—I did not see any woman with them—they all went away together with the policeman.
ELIZABETH ANN PURDY . I am servant to Mr. Kirk, living at 8, Vicarage Terrace—on the night of 9th February, at 7.30, as near as I could judge, I was on the pavement near No. 1 in the terrace, which fronts the road, between Vicarage Lane and Maiden's Alley, on the same side as Maiden's Alley—I saw a man talking to two policemen—it was the prisoner Campbell—there were two other men a little distance off, in front of me, on the pavement—I was three or four yards from Campbell when he was talking to the policeman; I am sure it was not more—the other two men were also as near, but further on towards Vicarage Lane, on the same side—one of them crossed the road, the other stood still—he came up to me, and asked me if I wanted a sweetheart; that was Calbraith—I said nothing—I went inside the gate of No. 8—there are ten houses to the terrace, all in a row.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. When I was at the Police Court, I said at first Campbell was not the man, but I cast my eyes on him a second time, and I knew it to be him—there were so many there besides him I did for the minute think he was not the man, till I cast my eyes on him again, and I mentioned it to two gentlemen as soon as I came out of the room.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I had come out to post a letter that evening—after the man spoke to me I hurried into the house—I went to Ilford en the morning of 4th March—I was taken there by Inspectors Clark and Mason—I was taken by them into a room at the gaol, and saw a lot of men standing all of a row—Calbraith was standing second from the door—I remained there a minute or two, not longer—Inspector Clark was at my side, and Mason at the other—I then went out of the room—I had recognized Campbell at that time, and I recognized Calbraith the minute afterwards—my attention was not called to him by dark or Mason; nothing was said to call my attention to the man who was standing second; I swear that; not a word—when I went in I looked at all the men; there were a great many—I did not cast my eyes on them just at the minute, but I was positive afterwards of their being the two—when I went out of the room I had not said a word about Calbraith being one of the men; just as I got outside the door I told the two gentlemen who were with me that those were the men—I was not pointed to any particular man—they were examined at the Police Court that day—I was in Court, and heard the evidence, and saw them put in the dock.
Re-examined. I say now that Calbraith is the man that spoke to me—I am positive he is the one that spoke to me.
ELIZABETH BENCH . I am the wife of William Edward Bench, who keeps the "Three Pigeons" public-house, at Ilford—it is near Vicarage Lane, on the right hand side going from London—I was in my house on the evening of 9th February, about 8 o'clock—I have a recollection of seeing the prisoner Campbell come in with two other men, and a female—they were there something like ten minutes, drinking some hot rum and water, and some other little drink with it—what called my attention to them was a few words issuing between the female and them—I noticed that Campbell had a peculiar mark under his left eye, and at that time he had a moustache,
Whiskers, a little whiskers, there was not much of them, but the moustache was there—I am not quite positive about the whiskers, but I know he had a moustache—the men left the house all together—the next time I saw Campbell was at Ilford, in the prison yard, and I picked him out from four others, three besides himself—I cannot swear to the other man, whether he is or is not one of the men.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I say now that Campbell had a moustache, but I am not positive about whiskers—I have not changed my mind at all—I said before the Magistrate "You had better clothing, and you had whiskers, and you had a moustache"—I think there were some whiskers; I believe he had a little of both—he had a moustache, I know, a big one—I do truly believe that he had whiskers, now I come to think of it, but very slight.
COURT. Q. Where were the men; in what part of the house? A. In front of the bar—I was behind the bar—I was in the bar-parlour at one part of the time, and I came into the bar—my niece served them—they were in front of the bar the whole time—I could see them from the bar parlour—there were no other persons at the bar at the time, only my niece—I don't remember anyone else being there; it was very quiet that night.
ALFRED BIRD . I am a bank messenger, living in Vicarage Lane, Stratford—on the evening of 9th February, about 8.20, I was returning from some entertainment, going towards Vicarage Lane—I passed Mr. Galloway's house, and crossed the road, opposite the "Pigeons" public-house, and I saw three men standing on the foot-path, opposite Mr. Galloway's, on the same side as the "Pigeons"—they were not exactly opposite Mr. Galloway's house; a little distance from it, on the opposite side—I can speak, to the best of my belief, to Campbell being one of those men—I passed them—I afterwards saw him in custody, I think on 24th February, the following, Friday fortnight, and picked him out of several—I did not count how many.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I say to the best of my belief Campbell is the man; that is as far as I would like to go—I can't say whether the man had whiskers—to the best of my belief he had—he wore a pea-jacket, and a cap with a peak to it.
Re-examined. I noticed nothing else about his dress—he had a sort of comforter round his neck.
COURT. Q. You say these men were standing? A. Yes—I went within a yard or so of them—I left them standing—I did not see any woman there.
ELIZABETH GREEN . I live at 4, Stratford Green—on the night of 9th February, I was in the Romford Road, about 8.20, going towards Ilford—I know Mr. Payze's house; it is at the corner of Vicarage Lane, with a garden in front—it fronts the main road—at that time it had a portico to it—it has since been taken down—I saw the prisoner, Michael Campbell, on the top of Mr. Payze's portico—I can't say how many yards off I was, but I was standing by Mr. Payze's garden gate, in the Romford Road—I saw him come down the portico by his two hands, and walk out of the garden—I was still standing at Mr. Payze's gate—the gate was open—he passed me, and crossed the road, and went a little way down Water Lane; that is the turning opposite—I stood there, and while I stood there, he returned again, crossed the road again, passed me, and overtook another man—that was towards Stratford—I saw no more of them after that—I went in to Mr. Payze's house, and made a communication to him
—I stayed there some little time, and then Mr. Payze went home with me, as I felt rather nervous, and did not like going home by myself—I have not any doubt about Campbell—I afterwards saw him in custody at Stratford police-station—there were other persons with him—I did not notice anything particular about him—there was a peculiar look about his eyes, but taking a general view of him, I did not notice anything very particular.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I can't positively say whether the man I saw get off the portico had whiskers—I don't know—I did not notice him sufficiently—I know he had a moustache—I can't say whether he had whiskers—I looked at big eyes more than anything—I had a good look at him; still, as I said before, I can't tell whether he had whiskers or not.
COURT. Q. Did you know him before? A. No—I had seen another man in the road, I can't say whether it was the same man that Campbell overtook, he was standing about—when he overtook the other man, they both went on towards Stratford.
RICHARD PAYZE . I am a corn-merchant, and live at 10, Vicarage Terrace—on the evening of the 9th February, about 8 o'clock, Miss Green came into my house, and made a communication to me, in consequence of which I went up stairs into my dressing-room, which opens on to the portico by a sash window—I examined the window, and found broken glass, some on the lead gutter, and some in the room; also the catch broken off, and the window lifted up some three inches—on the bottom of the sash, there was a mark where jemmy, or chisel, or some instrument had been used to force the window up; it had left a deep impression under the sill, it is there now—I had not left that room more than twenty-five minutes; the window was then fast, the blind down, and the catch all right—I fastened it myself; there was no broken pane—the window had not been unfastened for a month or six weeks—the sash was very difficult to raise, it had got swollen from the damp weather—I have a small fire-place in the room, consequently we had sufficient air in the room, and that was why the window was not opened—the sash was swollen, and would not yield to the pressure of the instrument used—I afterwards pointed out the marks to Inspector Mason.
MART ANN HOWLETT . I am a niece of the late Mr. Galloway—he lived at Oxford Villa, Bomford Road—I lived with him and Mrs. Galloway—it is a detached house—there are houses adjoining on each side—it is a row of houses, three on one side, and one on the other—there is no space between—on the evening of 9th February, about 8.30, as near as I can guess, I went from the breakfast-room, on the basement, to the drawing-room, which is on the ground-floor, above the breakfast-room—I left my uncle and aunt in the breakfast-room—I went to pull down the drawing-room blinds—there are two windows to the room, one at each end—one window faces the Romford Road—it is a bay window—the blinds were up when I went in—on looking through the window I saw two men standing by our garden-gate, in the road—there is a walk of about a half-dozen yards from the gate to the front, door, and some steps—the front door is on a level with the drawing-room—there is grass in the garden—the two men were standing by the gate when I first saw them, and they were moving away a few steps—I had no light—one stood on the footpath, by the middle pier dividing the two houses, the other came in at the gate, and walked on the grass, at the side of the path, towards the front steps—he lightly walked up the steps, and then tried to climb up the portico—he had on a black wideawake, and was dressed in
black clothes, dark clothes—I was standing at the window all this time, about two or three minutes—I could see the portico at the side of the bay window—I then ran quickly down stairs, and told my uncle and aunt what I had seen—I left the man climbing up the portico—my uncle ran out at the back of the house, and round to the front, by a passage at the side of the house—my aunt and I ran up stairs and opened the front door, and I saw a man leap over the gate, going away—I could not observe how that man was dressed—I did not see any other man at that time—I remained at the door—my uncle ran out after the man—I did not see him overtake him—my aunt followed my uncle towards the Hamfrith Road, towards Ilford—I heard them talking, but I could not hear what they said—I heard my uncle talking, and shortly afterwards I heard my aunt screaming—I then ran out at the gate, and saw my uncle coming towards home, with both hands up to his face, and my aunt with him, and I saw three men running down the road towards Ilford—I saw my uncle fall, about the second house from ours—after that I went in—I had run about a dozen yards from the gate when I saw the three men running, and met my uncle.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I cannot identify either of the prisoners.
COURT. Q. You say the man who was climbing up the portico had on a black wideawake? A. Yes, he had dark clothes; that is all I can say—I could not observe whether he had anything round his neck.
ANN GALLOWAY . I live at Oxford Villa, Ilford Road—on 9th February I was living there with my husband, Samuel Galloway—he was forty-nine years of age, and was living on his means—my niece lived with us—my husband came home at a few minutes past 8 o'clock that evening—he went into the breakfast-room on the basement—he was there for a few minutes preparing to do some writing—my niece went up stairs—after she had been up stairs a short time she came down into the breakfast-room, and in consequence of what she said I ran up stairs with her, to the front door—my husband ran out at the back door, up the back steps, and round the entry—when I opened the street door my husband was at the front door, at the bottom of the steps—I saw a man wearing a cap jump the gate—as my husband was going towards the gate I said to him "That is not the man wearing the cap that was up the front steps, it was a man wearing a wide-awake;" the man wearing the wideawake was about three yards off the gate, outride; the one wearing the cap disappeared—my husband went up to the man wearing the wideawake, and accused him—he was standing about three yards off our gate—I heard high words between him and my husband—they were walking together in conversation, in the direction of Hamfrith Road, towards Ilford—by that time I had got outside the gate, and was following my husband, and when I had reached to where they were standing, which was the middle of the Hamfrith Road, half-way across it, close to the lamp, my husband was holding the man at arm's length—I was standing opposite my husband, within a yard of him—as soon as I had reached my husband two men came running up from the direction of Ilford—they were both wearing dark clothes, one had a wideawake, and one a cap, with a peak—the man my husband was holding also had a wideawake—the two men came close up to my husband, the one wearing the cap came between me and the man my husband was holding, and the other one was at my husband's right side—one of the two that came up, I don't know which, said to the man my husband was holding, calling him by some name
that I did not hear, "What do you think, this fellow says I have been trying to get into his house"—I turned to the one that was standing next to me, and said "Yes; and so you are the man that was trying to get into our house"—that was the one wearing the cap—I half turned my head—there was a man standing about a dozen yards off, and I appealed to him to go for a policeman—he is a witness—I believe he said "There are no policemen"—when I turned my eyes again to look on my husband, the man that was standing at his right side had one hand raised to his breast—I then saw him draw an instrument from his breast, very bright and pointed, which in my flurry I thought resembled a dagger—he drew back an inch or so, that he might aim the blow where he wished—my husband's head was slightly turned, and he raised the blow to the eye—the blow struck my husband under the eye-ball—Campbell is the mail that struck that blow—I do not recognize the other man by the face, but from the height and size I think Calbraith is the man who was wearing the cap—I believe him to be so from his height and size—I cannot distinguish him by his features—when my husband was struck he immediately let go of the man he was holding, and raised his hands to his eys—he cried "Oh!"—that was all he said—he staggered about six or eight yards, and then fell—the three men ran in the direction of Ilford; as they were running the man Campbell turned back and looked, as he got to the lamp-post, just at the corner of the Hamfrith Road; I saw his face as he looked round—I raised an alarm, and the neighbours came and assisted my husband into the house—a surgeon was sent for five minutes afterwards—he died on the 15th—I afterwards saw Campbell in custody at the station, with others; eight or nine, I should suppose—I identified him directly I saw him.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I believe it was Calbraith that had on the cap with a peak to it, he was rather a shorter man than either of the others—I know Campbell had on a wideawake when he stabbed my husband—I have not the least doubt about it—he had a moustache, if not whiskers—I am not positive whether he had whiskers, but I believe so—I believe it was the man my husband was holding who said to the others "This fellow says I have been trying to get into his house."
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. When I opened the street-door the man wearing the cap was jumping over the front gate—there was no one else inside, no one with a wideawake, he was just outside the gate.
Re-examined. Campbell had on dark clothes, I believe, and a small check scarf round his neck—I did not notice anything else about him, only the particular look in the face; the peculiar face, a very white face, and either poc-marked or scarred across the cheek—as he was wearing a wideawake I could not see only across the cheek, but from the particular eyes I am quite positive of him—he has large eyes, and as he raised them when he struck the blow at my husband, I could not possibly be deceived—I noticed his large eyes as he raised them to strike the blow—I have not the least doubt in my own mind that he is the man that struck the blow.
THOMAS WHITMARSH . I am a fitter, living at Stratford—on 9th February last, about 7.10, I was walking down the Romford Road, on the right hand side, towards Ilford, the same side as the "Pigeons," and observed a man on a fence on the same side of the road—I stopped, and whilst stopping there I saw two other men come up towards me, and where the man was—Campbell is the one that was on the fence; Calbraith I can't swear to, but there is a great likeness, and by the description I should say he was one of the
other two men that came up—he is the right height and every description of one of the two; but there is something different about him since I saw him that evening—I believe he is one of the other two men—his features and dress are different, and the look of the man; I can't explain it, but there is something different—the other man, the one not in custody, came up to me in a striking attitude—a policeman then came up, and that stopped any fight—the three men were all together at that time; when the policeman came up Campbell jumped down off the fence—I went on towards Stratford, leaving the three men and the policeman—Campbell was talking to the policeman—I met another policeman, and I sent him to the other's assistance—I then went on to Stratford, and called upon the witness Knott, and came with him down the Romford Road again, about 8.10, or it might be a little later, on the right hand side, the opposite side to Mr. Galloway's—I saw the same three men standing opposite Mr. Galloway's house—that was very near 200 yards from where I had seen them before—we passed within two yards of them—I am quite sure they were the same three men—I walked past them six or seven yards, and then turned back and passed them again—they were still together as before—I did not see a woman, I believe there was one there—I went to Vine Cottage, opposite Mr. Galloway's house, and spoke to a woman there—that was about twenty yards from them—I rang the bell of Vine Cottage, and a woman came out, and I was speaking to her when I heard a scream—Kuott went on, and I followed behind him about a minute afterwards—I crossed the road towards Mr. Galloway's house, in the direction of the scream—that would be towards the Hamfrith Road—I saw Mr. Galloway lying on the ground—I saw some men running at the time, but I could not see that they were the same—I observed two men running, I did not observe the other—I stopped and assisted Mr. Galloway to his house—I afterwards saw Calbraith at the Police Court, Stratford, on the 21st—I saw Campbell before that, at the West Ham Station, on the 20th, with seven or eight other men, and I identified him—there were seven or eight other men with Calbraith when I saw him, and I identified him as one of the men.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I identified Calbraith—there is something different about him now, I can't explain what it is—I picked Campbell out on the 20th; I did not say a word to anyone that I identified him, but I did—I went there for the purpose of identifying him—I did not mention at the time that he was the man; I did next morning—directly I went into the place I identified him, directly I saw him—I did not mention it at the time, because I did not want to have anything to do with the case—next morning I changed my mind, I thought it was my duty to come and speak what I thought—Mr. Clark, the inspector, was the first person I told—I was at the Court at Stratford, but not at the time the witnesses were giving their evidence, only when I gave my own—I don't recollect hearing the other witnesses speak to their belief of his being the man—no one took me to the station on the 20th, I went by myself—a policeman sent for me.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. It was on the 22nd that I saw Calbraith in custody at the Police Court, Stratford, in a room amongst other men—it was then that I thought I knew him again—I went to the door, and told Mr. Clark he was the man—I did not speak to Calbraith about it; I did to the Inspector—I don't know that Calbraith could hear me—I could not pledge my oath to Calbraith being the man I saw that night.
Re-examined. I mentioned it to Inspector Clark, at the door, as I was leaving the room—it was to one of the servants at Vine Cottage that I was talking on this evening—we were chatting at the door—I did not, at first, mention that I identified Campbell, because I did not want to have anything to do with the case, unless I was compelled to, but next morning I thought it was my duty, and I told Mr. Clark he was the man, and I am quite positive he is the man that I saw both at Vicarage Terrace, and opposite Mr. Galloway's.
COURT. Q. You say you saw a man on a fence; what fence was that? A. Belonging to Vicarage Terrace; Mr. Pedley's, I believe it is—that man was Campbell—he was dressed something after the style he is now—he had on a kind of a round hat, and a coat something after the coat he has on now, something after the same shape—the third man had a kind of a coat like a tweed—I could not tell what they had on their heads.
WILLIAM KNOTT . I live at 7, Wood Cottages, Romford Road, Stratford, and am a blacksmith—on Thursday night, 9th February, about 8.30, I was in the Romford Road, with Whitmarsh—we had come from Stratford together—I saw three men on the foot-path, facing Mr. Galloway's house, on the opposite side of the way—the prisoners are two of the men—I walked about ten yards past them, and returned, and passed them again at the same place—I then went a little way down the road, to Vine Cottage, and stopped talking to a servant—whilst talking there, I saw the same three men standing under the lamp-post, at the end of the Hamfrith Road, and Mr. and Mrs. Galloway—directly I saw them there was a scream, almost immediately after, and I saw toe three men. run away—I went over to Mr. Galloway, and saw him lying on the ground, apparently dead—Mrs. Galloway caught hold of me, and held me there, screaming "My husband is stabbed!"—when I got away from her I ran after the three men towards Ilford—I was not able to overtake them, they got clear away—I returned back to Mr. Galloway's house—he was then being conveyed in—I afterwards saw the prisoners at the station, among others, and identified them—I identified Campbell first—I have not the least doubt about him—I identified Calbraith on the 22nd—I have not the least doubt about him.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I went to the station with Whitmarsh, on the night of the 20th, to identify these men—I did not go into the room with Whitmarsh; I went in first—the Inspector would not let us see one another when we came out—I said, in Campbell's presence, that he was the man; I said "That is the man," pointing to him—I believe Inspector Clark was present, Mr. Mason, and some more gentlemen—Whitmarsh did not tell me that he had picked out another man for Campbell—all the three men were dressed in black clothes on the night of the murder; one had on a cap, and two had round hats, what they call billycocks—Campbell had slight whiskers and a moustache—I am sure he had slight whiskers and a moustache, and that they were all three dressed in black clothes.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I can't tell how many times I was examined before the Magistrate—I think about half a dozen before the Magistrates at Stratford and Ilford, and at the inquest—the 21st was the first time, the day after I had identified Campbell—both the prisoners were not in the dock on that occasion, only Campbell—the next hearing was on the 22nd, the next morning—Calbraith was then in custody—the first place I saw him at was at the West Ham police-station—Inspector Clark
was at the station—he was standing at the door when I identified Calbraith—I made an observation in the presence of everyone in the room to the effect that I identified him—Calbraith was present—the men were in rotation, and I turned round to Mr. Clark, and said it was the third man—I said it so that he could hear—I swore to him before the Magistrate, and at the inquest—I said I was positive they were the men—Calbraith was wearing a cap on the evening of the murder—I almost forget what he had on his head when I identified him; I think it was a round hat, but I am not sure—his face seems the same now as it was then.
THOMAS WHITMARSH (re-examined). I did not pick out any other man, I noticed Campbell directly I saw him; I pointed out no one else but the prisoners, they were the only persons I identified—the third man had a tweed coat on, and, to the best of my belief, it was the coat that Campbell wore when he was taken into custody; it was a dark tweed, a mixture—I mean that the third man, who is not in custody, had that coat on, the night I saw him opposite Mr. Pedley's house—it was the same description, in shape, and make, and the look of it—I have not said that before—I have said it before, but not here—I can't say whether that is the coat that Campbell has on now, it is a long way off; it is the same shape; I can see the front of it; I could tell if I was close to it—the night I saw it on the man's back I was right close to him—I have not said a word about Campbell's having the coat that the third man had on, up to the present moment.
JAMES HOLLIDAY . I am a labourer, and live in Sun Row, Ilford Road—on the night of 9th February, about 8.45, I was passing by Mr. Galloway's house, and saw two men standing at the corner of the Hamfrith Road—Mr. Galloway was one; he was talking to the other man—I saw Mrs. Galloway come out of her gate and go up to her husband, and I heard her say "Oh yes, you are the man"—I then came across the road, and she came towards me, and begged me to go after a policeman—before she spoke to me, I had seen two more men coming from towards the New Road, just by Hamfrith Road—they came towards Mr. Galloway and the other man—I noticed those two men; Campbell is one of them—they came just up to Mr. Galloway—I went towards Stratford, to fetch a policeman—I had not got many yards when I heard Mrs. Gallowny screech out "Murder!"—I then turned round and followed the three men—they ran away, towards Ilford—I was not able to overtake them; they made their escape—I went back, and rendered assistance—some time afterwards, I saw Campbell in custody, at the police-station, with a number of other persons—I did not pick him out, in his own presence, I went in the next room, and told the inspector I knew him again.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I can't tell whether he had whiskers or not—I saw him sufficiently for me to know him again, but I can't say whether he had whiskers or not.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Before I heard the scream, I saw the two men come up—no time elapsed between the scream and my seeing the men.
COURT. Q. Did you notice how the man you call Campbell was dressed? A. In darkish clothes—he had on a felt hat, one of the low-rimmed hats—I did not observe how the others were dressed.
inquiries I made, on the afternoon of 20th February, I went with Inspector Mason to 18, Waterloo Court, Samuel Street, Cannon Street, St. George's-in-the-east—I went up stairs into the front room, and there found the prisoner Campbell, with two other men and a woman—Foster, an officer who was with me, said "That is Michael Campbell" who was sitting in the corner of the room—I ordered him to be brought down stairs, and took him into custody—he said "What is this fort"—I said "I will tell you when I get you out of the court"—on the way to the station, a short distance from the house, I said "You will be charged with the murder of Mr. Galloway, of 2, Oxford Villas, Romford Road, on the 9th instant"—he said "Oh God! no; I have been guilty of almost every crime, but, thank God, not that"—I took him to the Leman Street Station—that was all that passed on the road—I searched him, but found nothing except a small knife—I asked him his name and address—he gave it as Michael Campbell, 18, Waterloo Court, the place I had taken him from—I again repeated the charge to him, and he said "God! no; I have been guilty of many crimes, but, thank God, not that"—I afterwards took him to the West Ham Station—I caused him to be placed with five other young men who I called out of the street, and he was spoken to by the witnesses—Mrs. Galloway went in first, and other witnesses went in, and spoke to his being one of the men.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I think there were four officers altogether with me when I went to Campbell's room—that was not the first time I had been there that day; I had been in about ten minutes previously—I had seen him then—I don't think I asked him his name; I don't think I spoke to him at all—I made some remark about the room—I went to make observation, and I did not say anything to him with reference to this charge—I had some conversation with reference to the accommodation of the place, nothing else—I don't think I spoke to his brother, who was in the room; I am not sure—I said "This room is very close, and it is very unhealthy"—I think I asked if they all slept in the room, or something of that sort—I did not say who I was, or by what authority I went—I went with a gentleman who had some authority there, the Inspector of Nuisances of the district—I did not hear Campbell's brother say to him, "That is Mr. Clark, from Scotland Yard"—I went away for about ten minutes, or it might have been less; I had about 70 yards to go to fetch the officer that I believed knew Campbell—I found him there when I returned.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. When Knott identified Calbraith I was against the door of the room in which they were placed—Calbraith was not handcuffed in Knott's presence—I did not take him from the station to the Court—I don't think he was taken handcuffed before Knott; I took" every precaution I could that it should not happen, and I think it did not happen—I pledge my oath that, as far as I know, he was not taken before Knott handcuffed.
Re-examined. I selected persons from the street, called them in as they were passing, so that there might be a fair identification—there was no officer in plain clothes—every officer was shut in another room at the time—Calbraith was not handcuffed at that time—when I went to Campbell's room I did not know him personally—I had some suspicion, and I went in to confirm that suspicion—I had had some description of the persons who were engaged in this matter—when I went in I left other officers on watch at the court—when I came out I took in an officer who knew Campbell by
sight, and he was then arrested—I did not leave the Inspector of Nuisances in the room when I went out.
ARTHUR MASON (Police Inspector K). I am stationed at West Ham—on 21st February, about 8.30 in the evening, I went to Ernest Street, White Horse Lane, Stepney, accompanied by Sergeant Brydon—I saw Calbraith in the street—I got hold of one side, and Serjeant Brydon the other; I said "We want you, and shall take you into custody"—I searched him, and in his pocket found a large key—on the way to the station, I said "The charge is, being concerned with another in murdering Mr. Galloway"—he said "I know nothing about it"—I took him first to Arbour Square Station, Stepney; he was afterwards taken down to Ilford, and placed with others, to see whether the witnesses could identify him—on Friday, 10th February, my attention was called to Mr. Payze's house in Vicarage Terrace—I went to the room over the portico, and examined it—the window was closed at that time, the glass was broken, and the top of the catch forced off and a little bent—there were marks in between the two sashes, just by the catch, and on the bottom sash, as if a chisel or jemmy had been inserted.
FRANCIS KENNEDY . I am a surgeon, living at Stratford—on the evening of 9th February, about 8.45, I was called to the late Mr. Galloway's house—I found him lying on his back, perfectly insensible—he was bleeding, a very small quantity, from a small lacerated wound under the lower lid of the right eye—the eye was protruding very much—I examined the wound and probed it—I found that the instrument had passed through the orbit of the eye and entered the brain—in my judgment it was a mortal wound, I said so at once—I saw at once that it was mortal—it was caused, in my opinion, by a sharp pointed instrument with blunt sides to it, for this reason, that the eye itself was not cut, the globe of the eye was not injured—it was a very small wound at the side of the lid—I do not know what a jemmy is exactly; I believe it is something like a chisel, with a round edge and a point—a chisel might have caused the wound, it must unquestionably have been a violent blow—he died in consequence of that wound on the following Wednesday, the 15th—I made a post-mortem examination.
GEORGE GREENHAM (re-examined). The distance from the lamp-post at the corner of the Hamfrith Road to the lamp-post at the extremity of the plan is 634 yards—from Mr. Pedley's house to the Hamfrith Road is about 600 yards—and from Mr. Galloway's house it is 107 feet.
MR. STRAIGHT submitted that there was no evidence to go to the Jury that Calbraith participated in the act of molence which led to the death of the deceased. MR. POLAND contended that it was for the Jury to say whether the parties, evidently being out together for a common felonious purpose, and one of them being detained, the others did not intend at all hazard to rescue him, and if so the act of one would be the act of all. MR. JUSTICE LUSH did not think there was evidence upon which the Jury could safely infer that both men had the intention to use violence; there was no word of invitation to violence on the part of Calbraith; it appeared to be the sudden impulsive act of the man who committed the act, and there was nothing to show Calbraith's complicity in that murderous act.
CAMPBELL— GUILTY — DEATH .
CALBRAITH— NOT GUILTY .
Upon being called up for judgment the prisoner Campbell said, "I must
acknowledge I have been justly found guilty. I am sorry for the crime I never intended. I did not intend to strike him in the eye; the blow was aimed for his shoulder, that he might loose his hold of the man he was holding; but he must have moved and received the blow in his eye. I am sorry for it, and I hope that God will pardon me."
MESSRS. POLAND and BEABLEY conducted the, Prosecution.
JOHN BARNES (Policeman K 87). This witness repeated hit evidence as given on the former-trial, and added: The constable, Edward Blackett, came up at the time the men were talking—he asked them to go on, as other persons wanted the path as well as they did—I heard that—I was not asked that yesterday—I have said so on every examination until yesterday.
Prisoner. Q. You are not sure I am the man that spoke to you? A. I am sure—I could not recognize either of the men when I first saw them at Ilford—Mrs. Beach did not point out you or Campbell to me before the Magistrate—nobody pointed you out—I could not swear to you at first, because there were too many men to cast my eyes on, but I mentioned to Mr. Clark, immediately I came out of the room, that those were the men—Mr. Clark did not whisper to me "Aint it the second one"—he did not point out anyone, or say anything to me, as to which was the man; nor did anyone—Mr. Clark went into the room with me—I did not point you out, but I looked at you, and directly I came out, I told Mr. Clark—I am sure you are the man.
Prisoner. Q. You say you identified me at West Ham, or Ilfold? A. At the Police Court, in a room, among seven or eight other men, on. 22nd February—I don't know how it was that I did not give evidence against you till 4th March—I was examined once before the Coroner, four times altogether—I never said that I could not identify you—I believe I said at the inquest, that, to the best of my belief, it was you—I first identified you on the Wednesday morning, when you had your first hearing before the Magistrate—I was examined before the Coroner, on the Friday after, and I believe I then said it was you—to the best of my belief, I did not say I could not recognize you.
Prisoner. Q. When were you brought in to recognize me, at the West Ham police-station? A. On the 21st, in the evening—I pointed you out then, in your presence—I came into the room—Mr. Clark and some more inspectors were standing at the door—you were the third man in the room, and I turned round, and said to Mr. Clark "It is the third man"—I did not see you brought out, handcuffed, and put into a cab—I certainly did not come up to you, and touch you, and say "You are the man;" but I told Mr. Clark it was the third man.
ANN GALLOWAY was examined in chief as before, and added: I said to the man wearing the cap "And so you are the man that was trying to get in our house"—I did not understand that I said before, that I told my husband
it was not the man wearing the cap that was trying to get in, but the man wearing the wideawake—it was from the size of the man that I spoke—they had changed their caps by some means—I thought so from his size—he was a much taller man than the one I first saw with the cap.
Prisoner. Q. You say to-day something about changing caps; how is it that you never stated that in any evidence you have given before? A. I have not stated it before; but, from your height and size, I am certain of you—the man that jumped the gate was a tall man—you had changed caps—I am certain, from your size, you are not the man that jumped the gate—I only judge, you are one of the men, by your height—you are shorter than either of the others—I am positive you are one of the three, the man wearing the cap, that was standing on my right side, between me and the man my husband was holding—I believe I have said so before—what I said before the Magistrate was, I could not identify you by your face, but by your height and size—I believe you to be the man—I did not see your face—I identify you by your height and size—I don't swear positively to you, but I believe you to be the man, from your height and size, as I said from the first.
RICHARD PAYZE . I live at the corner of Vicarage Lane—the front garden fronts the Romford Road—on Thursday evening, 9th February, in consequence of a communication from Miss Green, I went up stairs to the room, the window of which is over the portico—I had been in that room within twenty-five minutes, and then left the window quite safe, and the blind down—when I examined it, I found the knob of the catch broken off, and a pane of glass broken, directly over the catch, in the top sash—it was smashed all to atoms, so that a person might put their hand in, or their head—the knob of the catch was broken off, and the catch pushed up, almost perpendicular—if a jemmy or chisel had been forced between the two sashes, against the centre of the catch, that would exactly account for the appearance—it was an ordinary catch—I did not see the marks of any instrument just there, the marks were on the bottom of the lower window-sill—the lower sash goes to the ground—it was forced up nearly three inches—there were very distinct marks there of an instrument having been used to force it—it had not been opened for some time, on account of the damp weather, and it had stuck fast, and would not yield to the pressure of an instrument without a longer leverage—the blind was a white one, not Venetian—Inspector Mason afterwards made a careful examination.
COURT. Q. Was the catch a loose or a firm one; would it require much force to open it? A. Yes, it was very firm indeed—if a person had put his hand through the aperture he could have unfastened the sash, but it was not unfastened in that way—after the lower sash had been lifted up about three inches a person could not have put his hand through, because the space between the window would be so narrow he could not get his hand down.
ARTHUR MASON (Police Inspector K) added to his former evidence:—I assisted in taking the prisoner into custody in Ernest Street, White Horse Lane, Stepney—the prisoner Campbell's brother was with him when I took him.
Prisoner. You never stated that till to-day. Witness. No, and I should not to-day if I had not been asked—I did not take you from that man's
evidence—he did not go with me, I found him with you, walking along the street—I never spoke to Henry Campbell, he was not in my custody, I had not seen him previous to that night—I first saw him in the street with you—he was taken to Arbour Square Station with you—I went with Sergeant Brydon and another constable, and searched your room, but could not find the instrument, or anything—a constable was left in charge of your room till the other officers got back from Stratford—I know nothing of eleven policemen going there—information was received which caused me to go there with other officers.
GEORGE CLARK (Police Inspector). When the prisoners were put into the room at the station to be identified, a few strangers out of the street were put with them, so that the identification should be thoroughly fair, and the witnesses were locked up in another room at the time—I never suggested to the witnesses who the men were—I never spoke to them in any shape or way about it.
GEORGE FOSTER (Detective H) examined by the Prisoner. I do not remember your speaking to me on the morning of 22nd February, after you came down from your examination at Stratford—I do not remember your saying "Well, Mr. Foster, how is it you came to take me for this charge? Where did you get your information from? I have nothing to do with it"—I did not say to you, "Henry Campbell, the prisoner's brother, who is in custody, says there are others in it besides him, and he believes you to be one of the men"—nothing of the sort ever took place—you never spoke to me, or I to you—I knew Campbell and his brother, and I watched his brother about, and that was how I got to the prisoner's residence, through my watching the other Campbell and following him.
MR. JUSTICE LUSH, expressing tome doubt whether the entering, as well as the breaking was sufficiently proved, MR. POLAND referred to several cause, from which it appeared that it had been held that the mere insertion of. an instrument was not sufficient, but that the hand, or some part of the person, must be introduced. MR. JUSTICE LUSH therefore decided to leave it to the Jury to say whether they were of opinion the hand was inserted inside the sash; if it teas, they might convict, but if not satisfied of that, they might find the prisoner guilty of the attempt.
Prisoner's Defence. You see, gentlemen, I stand here charged with attempt at housebreaking. The evidence against me, I should think, is hardly sufficient to convict me. Out of all the witnesses them is not one person that gives any straightforward evidence against me. If the evidence is sufficient to bring me in guilty, I ask you to bring me in guilty of the charge; but, if you try me fair and just, it is only a case of misdemeanour; there was no entry whatever.
The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted of felony.
JOSEPH WILSON (late Sergeant T Division). I produce a certificate. (This certified the conviction of John Skinner, at this Court, on 29th January, 1866, of housebreaking; sentence; five years' penal servitude). The prisoner is the person who was so convicted; that was a portico robbery.
CHARLES ALDOUS , warder of Coldbath Fields Prison, also proved that the prisoner had been convicted of larceny from a church, in June, 1857, and that while undergoing his sentence of six months' imprisonment for that offence, he assaulted and wounded the witness, for which he was tried, and convicted, and sentenced to four years' penal, servitude— Twenty Years' Penal Sevitude
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
334. ARTHUR FULLER (32), and THOMAS TAYLOR (28), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 13 cases of matches, of Samuel Alexander Bell, and another, his masters, Taylor having been before convicted. FULLER— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. TAYLOR— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN WARD . I am the wife of John Ward, of 9, Andrew Street—on 18th March, about 7 o'clock, I was in North Woolwich, on the pier, with a baby in my arms—I felt something heavy at my pocket—I saw the prisoner's hand there—I asked what he was doing—he said "Nothing"—I paid "You had your hand in my pocket"—he said "No, I did not"—I saw him pass something to another young man—I followed him on board a steam-boat, and a constable came and took him—I missed a half-crown out of four which I had.
Prisoner. Q. Were not the child's feet in your pocket? A. No; I lifted the child up, and saw your hand; you offered to get me my half-crown if I would not lock you up.
EDWARD LEWIS (Great Eastern Railway Constable). On 18th March the pier-master told me something—I jumped on board a steam-boat, and took the prisoner—he said that be would get the half-crown from a friend of his if she would let him go.
Prisoner. I did not.
CLARA WOOD . I am the wife of George Wood, of 5, Peter Street, Bromley—on 18th March I was on North Woolwich Pier, and saw the prisoner take his hand from Mrs. Ward's pocket, and hand something to another man.
Prisoner. Q. Why did not you follow and take him? A. Because I wanted to get on the boat, and the prosecutrix wanted you, as you took it.
Prisoner. Q. Why did not you go to the place I told you? A. I did, but could find no Smith Street in Silrerttwn; and there are only three of four streets there.
PLEADED GUILTY**— Eight Years' Penal Servitude. (The prisoner had been twelve times convicted.)
CLARA BULMER . I am the wife of Dr. Thomas Sanderson Bulmer, of 31, Beresford Square, Woolwich—the prisoner was in my service last April—I had no character with her—she brought a card from the Rev. Richard Turbot, Whitecross Mission, but I had not time to go there—she said that her
mistress had gone to Canada—I took her into the place from her statement and appearance—she remained about ten months, ten 14th November—I missed several small articles during the summer—I had a man-servant in my employment, who had left—on missing the things, I mentioned it to the prisoner, and she. accused the man-servant of taking them—I gave her notice on the 14th, and she left on that day—she came back about 29th November, saying she was destitute, and I took her in again for that simple reason, to assist her again—she left me three or four days before Christmas, without notice—three or four days after Christmas I missed fifteen night-dresses, fourteen shifts, and other articles, of the value of 25l. or 30l.—some of the things are here—I recognize them as mine—I did not give her those things, or send her to pawn or sell them—there is a great deal of property I have missed, which is not here.
JAMES DUCK . I am a general dealer, at 29, Queen Street, Woolwich—I produce a white lace shawl, a black lace cape, a shift, and other articles of a similar kind—they were brought to my shop about a month before Christmas, by the prisoner—she sold them to me for 15s.—she said that her mistress had sent her out to pledge them, and if she could not pledge them, she was to sell them—I offered her 15s. for them—she said she would go and ask her mistress if she would take 15s.—she called next day and agreed to take it.
EDWIN BENNETT . I am assistant to Mr. Thorpe, pawnbroker, of Church Hill, Woolwich—I produce three night-dresses, pledged on 10th November for 7s. 6d., by the prisoner; also a jacket, pledged, with other articles, on 5th January for 8s., by her—she gave the name of Day in each case—I have seen her in the shop before, pawning similar things.
JAMES MARGETSON (Detective Officer R 122). I took the prisoner, on 3rd March, at the Rev. Mr. Owen's, where she was servant for two or three days—I said I should take her for stealing a quantity of things from Mr. Bulmer, her late master—she began to cry, and made no answer—at the station she said that Dr. Bulmer had given her the things—she did not say when.
CLARA BULMER (re-examined). On 22nd August I went to my mother's, at New Cross—my servant brought my things on the next morning, the 23rd—circumstances caused me to return home on the 23rd, the following day—my things afterwards came back by parcels' delivery—after the prisoner left, about five days after Christmas, I missed the bulk of my things out of the two boxes I had taken—I had fastened the boxes—they were broken open, and the things taken.
THOMAS SANDERSON BULMER . I am the husband of the last witness—during the time the prisoner was with us, I never gave her any property of any kind, or money—I have lost various articles; some of my instruments, and other things.
Prisoner. How can you say you never gave me those things; did not you give them to me, after drugging me with a glass of wine and seducing me? and you gave me a sovereign at the same time; I should think you gave me 5l., and those clothes, to keep me silenced from Mrs. Bulmer.
Witness. I never gave her a sovereign, or a glass of wine—there is no truth in that accusation at all; it is a tissue of falsehoods.
ANGELA OWEN . I am the daughter of the Rev. Octavius Friere Owen—the prisoner came into my father's service on 23rd February—she said her former master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Bulmer, were out of town—I had no character with her—the day I was going for her character, 3rd March, she was taken in custody—after she left, I missed a Paisley shawl from my bed, and three dresses, and a pocket-handkerchief—I identify them here.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about those things; I never saw them before in my life.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. HLLINGS conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY of an indecent assault — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted tlie Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON defended Parker.
HENRY LANCASTER . I am a gardener, and live at 5, George Street, Deptford—on Sunday night, 19th March, about 11 o'clock, I was in High Street, Deptford—I met a woman there—I had never seen her before—I walked with her for about five minutes—when we got to the corner of a side street, five men ran out upon me and knocked me down—I was perfectly sober—the prisoners are two of the men—Parker put his hand over my mouth, to keep me from calling out, and he kicked me on the legs very much—when I got up, my mouth was cut—a stone was thrown at me while I was on the ground—Rutherford was there—he helped to take my money—I had 13s. 2d. in my trowsers' pockets—I missed that when I got up—I did not see what became of the woman—after the men had attacked me, they went into a house in Stanhope Street—I did not take the number of the house, but I looked at it, and marked it with a stone—I went away and got a constable, and went back with him to the house—we knocked, and a woman came to the door—we went in, and the men ran out the back way—they were in a back room, and I saw them come out at the door of the back room, and run into a back yard with a fence round it, 4ft. or 5ft. high—I saw Parker getting over the fence, and the constable caught him before he got over—Rutherford had a candle in his hand, which he blew out when the constable went into the yard—the constable and Parker struggled together—I tried to help him—Rutherford got over the fence—I saw him afterwards, because he threw several bricks at the constable—I saw him on the other side of the fence after he got over—he was 6 yds. or 6 yds. off, throwing tilings at the constable—the other men all got away Parker got away from the constable, and ran out of the house, and the constable after him—he caught him again in Stanhope Street.
Cross-examined. Five men knocked me down—I know them all—I had not seen them before, but I could identify them all—I picked Rutherford out of six or seven men, on the Thursday after—I suppose I was lying in the road about five minutes, and I kept looking at them all the while I was
down—I suppose the house was 200 yards from where I was knocked down—the whole five of them went into the house—I can't say how many ran out at the back—I could not count them, they ran so fast—there were not ten—I think only five—all the men that were in the house ran out—the prisoners were the only two that were taken—there were some lamps in the street where I was knocked down—I followed the men when they ran away—I don't know whether they saw me or not—I lost 13s. 2d. in silver and copper—I had given a shilling to the woman—it was about half a minute after that that I was knocked down—it was about a quarter of an hour after that I found a policeman—I took the first policeman I met to the house, and all the men ran out at the back.
Re-examined. After I was knocked down, the men walked away, and I walked in a different direction, till they got about seventy yards off, and then I turned round and followed them.
JOHN DRAPER (Policeman R 172). On the night of the 19th, between 11 and 12 o'clock, I saw the prosecutor in Hale Street, Deptford—he complained to me, and took me to 28, Stanhope Street—I knocked at the door—it was opened by a woman, and I saw a number of men rush out into the back yard—Parker was there—I seized him as he was getting over the fence—he struggled, and got away—he ran through the house, and I captured him again—I saw Rutherford there—he got over the fence and got away—he threw several bricks at me—that was in the street, after I caught Parker—he followed me as I took Parker to the station—he threw the last brick at me close to the flour mills, and then ran away—it hit me on the right side—I was unable to take my duty for eleven days.
Cross-examined. When I met the prosecutor, he said he had been violently assaulted by five men, down Stanhope Street, and he took me to No. 28—there were five men in the house—Parker was taken on the spot—Rutherford was taken during the next week—I only saw the backs of the others as they went over the fence.
THOMAS KITMER (Police Sergeant R 4). I apprehended Rutherford on the 23rd, about 1 p.m., in Hale Street, Deptford—I told him it was for a violent assault, in company with others, and robbing a man—he said "I know nothing about the matter."
The Prisoners' statements before the Magistrate—Parker says: " I know nothing about the affair at all; I was standing at the door, and saw the female and the prosecutor fighting about some money." Rutherford says: "I was not there."
PARKER also PLEADED GUILTY* to having been convicted in August, 1866— Two Years' Imprisonment. RUTHERFORD*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. RIBTON and HOSKIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. KEEBLE the Defence.
ELEANOR BEALE . I live at 11, Weredon Road, Lee—I am a widow—the prisoner is my uncle—his wife has been living with me for about two years—the prisoner has only been to the house twice during that time—on the morning of 6th March, I heard a knock at the door—Mrs. Castle, my aunt, opened it—I heard some words, and I came down stain and found the
prisoner and Mrs. Castle in the parlour—I asked him why he was there so early in the morning, interfering with her; I should not allow it while she was under my roof—he made no answer—Mrs. Castle walked from the table to the window to draw up the blind—the prisoner raised his hand, and then I saw this bill-hook—he struck my aunt a violent blow across the back of her head—there was only one blow—he did not say anything—she fell, and he went out, and took the bill-hook with him, in his right hand—my aunt bled a good deal—I sent for a doctor.
Cross-examined. She is not well yet—she uses a crutch and a stick to walk with—she did not raise the crutch towards the prisoner, that I am aware of—the crutch did not catch in the carpet, and she did not fall in consequence of that—she did not fall before she received the blow—it was the blow that caused her to fall—the prisoner is an old man—his wife left him through his ill treatment—they have been married twenty-three or twenty-four years, I believe—the prisoner is her second husband—she has a son; not by the prisoner—I don't know that the son has been the cause of the disputes—the prisoner has not supported her while she has been living with me—she had supported herself with needlework—she was sixty last January—I did not hear the prisoner ask her whether she would come back and live with him—when I went into the room, they were face to face—my aunt turned her back to go to the window to draw up the blind—it was after she turned her back that the blow was struck—he struck sideways at her—a back-hand blow at her head—he is a gardener—that is one of the tools he uses in his trade.
REBECCA CASTLE . I live at 11, Weredon Road, Lee—the prisoner is my husband—I have lived apart from him for the last two years, because he did not treat me well—I have only seen him once or twice since—on Monday morning, 6th March, about 7 o'clock—there was a knock at the door—I opened the door, and saw my husband—I tried to shut the door when I saw him, but he prevented me—I asked him what he wanted—he asked if I would go to live with him any more—I told him I could not—he said "Look here," and he took the bill-hook from his pocket, and raised it to me, and told me he would do for me; and, as well as I was able I went into the parlour—he followed me—I asked him what he wanted to hurt me for, and said "I never hurt you, nor wish to do so"—he made some reply, but I did not hear what it was—my niece came into the room—I stood a few minutes facing him—I turned, while my niece was talking to him, towards the window, and was drawing up the blind with my left hand, when I received a blow on the back of my head—I fell, and don't recollect any more.
Cross-examined. My husband is a gardener—we have been married twenty-seven years—I had been married previously—I was living with my mother during the interval between my first marriage and my marriage with the prisoner—I had a son—he lived with me and the prisoner—he was a very steady young man—there was no occasion for any disputes about him—I left my husband—I don't know whether it was against his wishes; I was very thankful to get away—he did not support me—he raised the bill-hook to me at the door, when he came, and raised it again in the parlour—he did not say "I have been told you are going away"—he asked me whether I intended coming back to live with him, and I refused—I walk with a crutch—I made no movement towards him with that—it did not grass the ground, and cause me to fall—he raised the bill-hook, and struck
me—it has not healed; I am under treatment for it now—Mr. Burroughs saw me this day week; not since.
Re-examined. I don't know where my husband lives; he did live at Lee—I don't know where he came from that morning—he is a jobbing gardener.
JOHN LITTLECHILD (Detective Officer). On Wednesday, 8th March, from information I received, I went to Keston, near Bromley, in search of the prisoner, and on the Thursday I went to Cudham, where I found him, going across the fields into the woods—I took him on the charge of attempting to murder his wife—he said "The old woman is not dead, is she?"—I said "No"—I found a razor on him, and a bill-hook—I conveyed him to Bromley, and then to Lee police-station—on the charge being read over, he said that he did not intend to murder her.
Cross-examined. He said she had aggravated him very much, and he had given her a tap; that was as we were going from Cudham to Bromley—he also said he had been wandering about since he had done it, and had tried to drown himself—he did not seem to be at all excited or alarmed at the charge—he is a very old man—he said he had got the razor with the intention of cutting his throat—we had a ride of about eight miles, and there was a deal of conversation.
JOHN THOMAS ROBERT BURROUGHS . I am a surgeon, of Manor Villa, Lee—on the morning of 6th March I went to Mrs. Beale's house, between 7 and 8 o'clock, and found Mrs. Castle suffering from a severe incised wound at the back part of her head, an inch and a half or two inches wide, cutting through the scalp and completely through the bone—it was such a wound as would be inflicted by this bill-hook—I have not seen the wound since she came to London, last Monday, but I hear to-day it is opening—it had healed.
Cross-examined. The wound could not have been caused without considerable violence—it went downwards and inwards.
GUILTY on the Second Count — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BOTTOMLEY the Defence.
GEORGE ROBSON (Policeman). On 19th March, about 11.5 p.m., I was on duty in Church Street, Greenwich, and saw a disturbance outside a pieshop—I went up, and saw several persons dancing on the pavement—I requested them to go away, as it was not a place for dancing—I was told to go to the devil, and other terms of abuse—I walked towards one who was dancing, and received a blow on my cheek from behind, I cannot say from whom, but I seized the man, and threw him on the ground—I was at once surrounded by the mob, my truncheon was taken from me, and I was felled to the ground; my helmet was knocked off by a blow first, and then I was struck across the head, and became insensible—I recollect nothing more till I was taken to the hospital—none of the by-standers came to my assistance—I saw the prisoner in the crowd, but did not see him do anything—I am still suffering from the blow; two of the wounds are still open, and I feel pain from an injury on my back.
Cross-examined. I can fix the time, because I heard Greenwich Church clock strike—there were over fifty most disgraceful characters there—I did not know the people who were dancing—I said "Please this won't do here," or something to that effect—I cannot identify the man I seized—when I went into the crowd the prisoner was standing in the midst of it—I did not see him at the time I was struck from behind.
WILLIAM BROWNING (Police Inspector R). A little after 11 o'clock on 19th March, I was at the corner of Nicholson Street and Church Street, Greenwich—I heard a policeman's helmet fall, ran to the spot, and saw Robson on the ground, and the prisoner standing over him, belabouring his head with a truncheon—I was in uniform—I heard the blows, and saw him distinctly strike three blows—I did not know him before—when I got up to him I received a blow on the left side of my head from the prisoner, with a truncheon, but I cannot say whether he meant it for me—I got hold of the truncheon, and wrested it from him, and Robson staggered up—he appeared exhausted, and was bleeding very much—this happened all in a moment—some of the by-standers took Robson away, and I laid hold of the prisoner—two other constables came up, a great mob assembled, and a great many prostitutes—the prisoner kicked and plunged about, and kicked me—the other constables assisted me—the mob interfered, and ultimately rescued him—we were struggling about twenty minutes, during which time we did not. get more than fifty yards, and nearly 150 people assembled around us—the prisoner ran down Bridge Street—he was afterwards taken again, and eight or nine constables were engaged in taking him to the station—he said he should like to have any two b—y policemen in a field, and he would either settle or murder them.
Cross-examined. I know the time, because the publicans were turning people out of their houses—I had never seen the prisoner before—there were only two or three people round Robson when I heard the noise, but twenty or more were going towards him—I rushed up, pushed the people away, and caught the prisoner by the coat—his waistcoat was torn completely off in. trying to getaway—he struck me with a truncheon on one side of my head, and a girl came behind me, and kicked me—the prisoner is the man who was standing over Robson—the other two constables took hold of him before I left go; they took him from me.
Re-examined. One constable was Bowden; and the other, Hammond, is on the sick list—I saw no dancing—I had directed the constable to remove all prostitutes, as they are very disorderly there on Sunday nights.
JOHN BOWDEN (Policeman). I was on duty in Church Street, Greenwich, on this Sunday night at 11.5—I heard a blow on a policeman's helmet, and a fall on the ground—I went fifty yards back, and saw people running towards Greenwich Market, and saw the inspector with the prisoner by the collar, against the shutters of a shop—Robson was behind the inspector—Hammond came just after me—Robson, who was not three yards from me said, in the prisoner's hearing, "I am done;" and I took the prisoner from the inspector, and did not loose hold of him for twenty minutes, when I received a blow on my mouth and another on my left eye, which was black for nine days—I was thrown down three times; and the last time I was kicked before my right ear—the prisoner got away—I did not see him brought back.
Cross-examined. I never left hold of him for twenty minutes, but Hammond did—the inspector was keeping the crowd back.
GEORGE CARR (Policeman R 221). I was at the Blackheath Road Station—a gentleman called me at about 11.20, and I went with two other constables to Church Street—the prisoner had then escaped—we went in the direction he had gone—I went down Bridge Street into Thomas Street, and found the prisoner in a court, leaning over some railings, very much exhausted, and his clothes all torn—I was not sure he was the man—I asked him what he was doing there—he deliberately aimed a blow at me—it struck me that he was the man, and I seized him by the collar, and by main force dragged him from the passage—in the struggle we fell to the ground—I shouted for assistance, and Hammond, Browning, and two other constables, came and identified him as the man who escaped—I had a severe struggle with him, and he kicked me on the shins, and I received a severe kick from some of the mob.
Cross-examined. The yard where I found the prisoner is about three minutes' walk from Church Street—I did not strike the prisoner.
EDWARD HUGH DOWNING , M.R.C.S. I live at 93, Eveland Street, Deptford—on Monday morning, 20th March, I examined Robson at the police station—he had three wounds on his head, varying from an inch to an inch and a half long, a bruise on the side of his left eye, and another on his back, between the blade bones—they were contused wounds, and might have been caused by a truncheon—they had been dressed at the hospital when I saw him—they would have been dangerous if erysipelas had followed, and it probably would follow in a person who was not very healthy—he is improving now, but the wounds are still open—I do not apprehend danger now.
He received a good character— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
MICHAEL GRANT . On Saturday, 4th February, I was in Deptford, with a friend, and met the prisoner within a few doors of my lodging—she did not speak to me, nor did I address her; but she threw something into my face, which took my senses away, and staggered me into the road—I am sure it was the prisoner—I had seen her that day week—I have been acquainted with her about two years and a half—I was not engaged to be married to her; I kept company with her, and visited her on several occasions—the last time I saw her, she had a bundle with some old trowsers she was mending for me, and wanted the money for doing so—I took her to the "Navy Arms," changed a sovereign, and was giving her a shilling—she said "That is no good"—I said "How much do you want for the parcel?"—she said "Two shillings—she said that I should never enjoy the present without getting married to her—I was going to be married to somebody else, and had been called in church—she said that if she had a pistol she would shoot me; or a knife, she would stick it into me.
Prisoner. Q. Do you recollect Mrs. Lahey, a widow, coming to my place, last autumn twelve months? A. Yes—I did not, a few weeks alter that, ask you to be my wife—I did not ask you, one evening, to borrow 2l. of Mrs. Lahey, to get settled with you; no such thing ever happened—I did not ask you, this time twelve months, to put up the bans with you—you did not say that it was not in your power just then, nor did I say. that I had not got the means—I never promised to make you my wife at all; I
told you you should never become my wife; you have had two husbands, any I said that I never would be a third. (The prisoner here handed some of the witnesses letters to the Court.)
COURT. Q. You have written very affectionate letters to her, have you not? A. Yes; I respected her up to the very night she threw this in my face—I always was a friend to her, and I sympathized with her under her difficulties; I have relieved her many and many a time—she always wanted to get married to me, but I said that I would not be a third husband to the best woman in England—I think I wrote this: "You will fret your life away before I have the pleasure of seeing that happy day that I shall have the pleasure of calling you mine for ever"—that was before I discovered that she had had two husbands—she went by the name of Mrs. Hickey then, not of Mrs. O'Brien.
SHIRLEY FOSTER MURPHY . I was house-surgeon at Guy's—the prosecutor was brought there, on 5th February, burnt by some corrosive fluid thrown in his face, and has been there ever since—it is quite impossible that he will recover the sight of either eye, the entire orbit is gone, and there is no hope—his evidence was taken the next day, in the prisoner's presence—I examined a bonnet which was given to me, and found it stained with sulphuric acid—the man's clothes (produced) are stained with the same acid.
WILLIAM OSBORNE (Policeman R 121). I took the prisoner at 5, Trinity Place—I asked her if she knew a man named Grant—she said "Yes," and became very much agitated, and wanted to know where he was—I said that I should take her in custody for throwing corrosive fluid in his face—she said that he had made a great mistake, she had not seen him since last Saturday week—I saw Inspector Chandler take this bonnet off her head.
HENRY CHANDLER (Police Inspector). I took this bonnet off the prisoner's head—she asked me how Grant was getting on—I said "He is very ill"—I cautioned her that anything she said I should have to repeat in evidence against her—she said that he had used her very cruelly, she having supported him when he was out of work, and he had deserted her to marry a young girl; that he had lost the sight of one eye, having to hold a book on one side, and she did not think it was such dangerous stuff; there was only two-pennyworth, and some of that she spilled in pouring it into an iron saucepan, and some of it fell on her wrist, although she had her gown over it.
The Prisoner, in her statement before the Magistrate, and also in her defence, stated that the prosecutor had seduced her under promise of marriage, and that she had frequently supported him when he was out of work; and that when she stated that she heard he was going to be married, he said "Have as much right to make her my wife as you; I have had her as well as I have had you;" that she called him a vagabond and a villain, and never saw him afterwards.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
—the prisoner brought them on each occasion—on the second lot being brought, my mother paid him the amount of the two bilk—that was on 21st November—the amount altogether was 4l. 19s. 9d.
Cross-examined. My mother has dealt with Mr. Jones about twenty years—the prisoner has brought bills frequently before, and articles as well—the money was paid in the afternoon.
GEORGE JONES . I am in the service of my father, William Jones, a linen-draper, at Sydenham—the prisoner was his shopman—on 21st November he paid me 3l. 8s. 5d. of Mrs. Curtis' account, but he did not pay the account of 1l. 11s. 4d. at the same time—he gave me the duplicate of the bill when he paid the 3l. 8s. 5d."—one bill is given to the customer, and we file the duplicate—this "Paid, 3l. 8s. 5d." is in the prisoner's writing.
Cross-examined. There are thirteen shopmen in my father's employ—I was acting as cashier at that time—when I was not there, a young lady acted for me—the is not here—the goods amounting to 3l. 8s. 5d. were supplied on the day the money was paid—the account of 1l. 11s. 4d. was for goods supplied at different times before that—he paid in the 3l. 8s. 5d. on the 21st, the day the goods were sent—Miss Fairbank is acting as cashier now—she began about six weeks ago—I did not keep any book but the cash-book.
WILLIAM JONES . I am a linen-draper, at Sydenham—the prisoner was my shopman—on 21st or 22nd November he borrowed 10l. of me—he stated that he had had a house left him a short time back, and he wanted to get the deeds out of the lawyers' hands—he went away, and promised to be back in two hours—he was away three or four days—he came and asked me if I was very much annoyed—I said of course I was, that he should be such a fool, and that was about all I said to him—he said "Let the clerk sead in the account, and I will pay it"—I have a customer named Curtis—on 18th November there was an account of 1l. 13s. against her, and goods were subsequently supplied amounting to 3l. 12s., the whole amounting to 4l. 14s. 9d., less discount—these receipts are in the prisoner's writing—the amounts are 1l. 11s. 6d., and 3l. 8s. 5d., that is less discount—my son was acting as cashier then—it was the prisoner's duty to have paid those amounts to him—I subsequently made inquiries of Mrs. Curtis as to the first sum that was due—the account was sent in in the usual way, and she sent it back with the receipted bill.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution; MR. WABNER SLEIGH appeared for Smith, and MR. LILLEY for Rainbow.
GEORGE SEAGER . I am a cowkeeper, at Perry Hill, Lewisham—on. 6th March I had a van and a bag of coals in the yard of the "Rutland Tavern," Perry Hill, between 5 and 6 o'clock—I had a coat under the bag of coals—Rainbow was there—he asked me the price of the van—I left the yard, and went home to tea—I had not been in five minutes before some one sent for me, saying my coat was stolen—I went back to the yard, found the coals thrown down, and the coat gone—when I went out of the yard I saw Smith standing by the gate—this is my coat (produced)—It is worth 2s. to me, for the purpose I use it—I throw it over the pony's back when he is standing still.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Mr. Trew is the landlord of the
"Rutland"—the yard is a middling size—I told Rainbow the price of the van, and he shook his head, and said "No"—there were other vans and carts in the yard—the next van to mine was a few yards off—I did not look in that, to see if my coat was there.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I was willing to sell the van, and I had told Rainbow the price—it is usual to look at the condition of a van before you buy it.
GEORGE TREW . I keep the "Rutland Tavern"—on 6th March I saw the prisoner in the yard, with another man—they came in a cart about 5.30—they had some bread and cheese and beer, and Rainbow and the other man went into the tap-room—Smith went out, and came back in about twenty minutes, and then he and Rainbow went up the yard—I looked through the kitchen window, and saw Rainbow lift up the sack of coals, which was standing at the tail of a little van—the tail-board was down—Smith drew the coat from underneath, and I sent over to Mr. Seager—I saw Rainbow coming out at the gate, and I went round to the front to stop him—as soon as he saw me he turned, and said something which I did not hear—they then both came out of the yard, and walked into the tap-room—Smith went up the yard again immediately afterwards—I followed, and asked what he did there—he said "Why do you ask me' that T—I said "Because I saw you take a coat from that van just now; what have you done with it?"—he said "You are a liar, I have not taken a coat from that van, and I will punish you for saying so"—Seager came over, a constable was sent for, and they were given in custody—when we came back from the station, I saw the policeman with the coat under his arm—he said he had found it in a cart.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. I could see the part of the yard where the van stood, through the kitchen window—I could not see the cart where the coat was found—they were about eight or nine yards from each other—Smith was going in the direction of the closet—they had had a pot of beer in the house.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. It was me that he addressed when he said he wanted to sell the van—Rainbow overheard him, and asked the price—I had never seen either of the prisoners before—the sack of coals was lying down in the van after the coat was taken out—it fell down.
ARTHUR AMOS (Policeman P 397). I took the two prisoners at the "Rutland Tavern," for stealing a coat from a van in the yard—they said they knew nothing about it—after I had taken them to the station I went back to the yard, and found the coat at the bottom of another cart, about eight or nine yards from the van.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. It is an open yard—Smith did not seem very angry—they both went to the station—I was not there when the prosecutor charged them with stealing the coat.
NOT GUILTY .
FREDERICK TAYLOR (Policeman P 97). On 1st December I saw the prisoner under a hedge, in a meadow at the back of Sunderland Villas, Dartmouth Park—she had twelve fowls, which she was plucking—six were plucked—a boy was with her—it was about 3.30 in the morning—she escaped—I afterwards saw the prosecutor, and showed him the fowls—he
identified them—I took the boy in custody—I saw the prisoner on 25th March, and took her.
ZACCHEUS BURROWS . I live at Cedar Cottage, Forest Hill—on the night of 30th November my fowl-house was broken into—I lost twelve fowls out of twenty-five—I saw them at the station in the morning, and I identified them—the ditch where they were being plucked is about 600 yards from the fowl-house—I saw the feathers there, and the fowls at the station—I have not the least doubt that they were mine.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about them.
She was further charged with having been before convicted.
JAMES BURTON (Policeman W 16). I produce a certificate—(Read: Mary Dickenson. Convicted 20th March, 1869, of stealing two tame fowls of Thomas Playman. Sentence, six months)—I was present—the prisoner is the person.
GUILTY*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
346. CHARLES ALLEN (34), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing five planes, one saw, and other articles, the property of Thomas Murch, having been before convicted in November, 1870— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. And
347. PERCY MAY SEWELL (34) , to feloniously marrying Amelia Lucy Penny, his wife Elizabeth being alive; and also to marrying Ann Girdlestone Currie, his said wife being alive— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN HAYTER . I was barmaid at the "White Hart," Walworth Road—on 28th February, about 8 p.m., I served the prisoner with a glass of stout, which came to 2d.—he gave me a bad shilling—I gave it back to him—ho said that he knew where he took it, and would take it back—he came back in about an hour for another glass of stout, and gave me a bad shilling—I called Mr. Madden, the manager, and told him I had got it from the prisoner—he bent it double, and put it on the stove—the prisoner paid with a good sixpence—Mr. Green was there—he brought the shilling back, later in the evening, and I put it in my pocket till the constable came for it.
MARIAN CLINTON . On 28th February I was barmaid at the "White Hart"—I saw the prisoner there about 9 o'clock, and saw Mr. Madden put a bent shilling on the stove—I took it up and gave it to Mr. Green, who went out with it, came back, and gave the shilling to Miss Hayter.
JAMES HUNT . I was potman at the "White Hart"—I saw Miss Hayter serve the prisoner—he put down a shilling, and I heard her say that it was a bad one—he said "Oh, I was not aware of that; I know where I took it, I can get it changed"—she gave it back to him—he paid for the drink, and left—he came again about 9 o'clock—I saw him put down a shilling again, and saw Mr. Madden double it up—I described the prisoner to a constable, and he was taken—he pretended to be drunk the second time he came back.
Prisoner's Defence. I found them wrapped up in paper, and put them into my pocket. If I had known the first one was bad, I should not have gone back to the house. I was intoxicated, or I should not have said that I knew where I took it from.
He was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence at Newington, in December 1869, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
JANE HUME . I am shopwoman to Mr. Joycey, a chandler, of 39, Gravel Lane—on 16th March, about 7.30 a.m., I sold the prisoner a 3d. loaf—he gave me a half-crown—I gave him change, and he left—I put it on the parlour table, where there was other money, but no half-crown—he came again at 12.30, and I saw him give my master a half-crown; he passed it to me, and I gave him 2s. 3d. change—I recognized the prisoner, and after he left I found the half-crowns were both bad—I ran out, but could not see him—I informed the police, and saw the prisoner next day at the station—I am sure he is the man—I marked the half-crowns, and gave them to the policeman—I had no others.
Prisoner. I never was in the shop but once in my life, and that was about dinner time. Witness. I am sure you were there twice.
ROBERT JOYCEY . On 16th March, about 12.30, I served the prisoner with 1/4lb. of cheese, which came to 3d—he gave me a half-crown, I gave him the change, and he left—the half-crown was rather slippery, and after he had gone I looked at it again and found it was bad.
JOHN LEWANDER (Detective Officer M). I took the prisoner on 17th March, at 11, Russell Place, Guildford Street, about 200 yards from the shop—I told him the charge—he said "I do not know anything about it;" but at the station he said "I passed one, but was not aware it was bad"—Jane Hume gave me these two half-crowns (produced).
Prisoner's Defence. I pawned some boots for 4s. I only changed a half-crown once at the public-house, and I did not know that was bad.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNBLL conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BRINDLEY the Defence.
ROBERT MARTIN . I keep the Post Office, 3, Foley Place, Wandsworth Road—on 14th February, about 4.40, I served the prisoner with 5s. worth of penny stamps—he gave me two half-crowns—when I took them up he had gone, and I found one was good and one bad—I tried to find him, but could not—I put the bad one in a drawer of my own desk, which was not locked—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man—I afterwards gave it to the sergeant.
Cross-examined. My wife also attends to the office—I am very seldom out—I never went out during that week—if I was away for five minutes my wife would not go to that drawer—I next saw the prisoner on the 21st, at Wandsworth, stepping out of a van into the Police Court, and I said to Sergeant Bell "That is the man"—seven or eight stepped out together—a postman had told me that the prisoner was in custody—I did not give evidence till 3rd March, because the case was remanded.
Re-examined. I have not the slightest doubt about him—when I took the half-crown out it had never been disturbed—it was in a secret drawer in my desk.
Cross-examined. I did not receive it on the 21st—he gave it me on the night of the first hearing—he had not seen him then—he saw him on the remand, which was, I think, on March 3rd, and not the week before—I was with him at the police van on 3rd March, and he remarked to me that that was the man—I was not there on the 21st.
JOSEPH MCGENNIS . I keep the Post Office, York Road, Wandsworth—on 21st February, a little before 5 o'clock, I served Babb (See next case) with 5s. worth of sixpenny postage-stamps—he gave me two half-crowns, and went out before I took them up—I found that one of them was bad, ran out directly, and saw him on the other side of the way—I called him back, and said "Do you know you have given me a bad half-crown?" and gave it into his hand—he bit, and bent it, and said "Yes, it is bad; I have no more money with me, you must take back the stamps"—he gave them to me—I tore them in half, gave him* half, and kept the rest.
JAMES JOHN WOOLMER . I keep the Battersea Park post-office, about a quarter of an hour's walk from the last witness—on 21st February, about 5.30, I served Babb with 5s. worth of postage-stamps—he gave me two half-crowns, and when he left I discovered, by my teeth, that one of them was bad—I followed him, stopped him eighty yards off, and made him give me back a half-crown's worth of stamps, and returned him the half-crown.
ELIZABETH SIMPSON . I am the wife of Richard Simpson, of 17, Worsell Street, Battersea Park—on 21st February, a little before 6 o'clock, I saw Mr. Woolmer stop Babb, and saw something pass from one to the other—he walked on, and two men joined him, who I know better by their backs, as I did not go in front of them, but most certainly the prisoner is one of them, and the other was dressed in a white jacket, like a labourer—they went to Mr. Lancaster's, a post-office in Battersea Park Terrace—Babb went in, and came out with something in his hand—the prisoner joined him, and I went and spoke to Mr. Lancaster—when I came out the three were together—I showed them to Mr. Lancaster, who followed them—they went to Mr. Anderson's post-office, at Nine Elms—the prisoner went in, and Mr. Lancaster went in after him.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner's face till he was in the shop at Nine Elms, because they did not turn round, and I kept behind them—I know their backs.
Re-examined. I saw their backs till they went into Mr. Anderson's, where I saw the prisoner's face.
WILLIAM LANCASTER .—I keep a post-office, 10, Battersea Park Terrace, half a mile from Mr. Woolmer's—on 21st February, about 5.50, I served Babb with 4s. worth of penny stamps—he gave me two florins, and went
out immediately—Mrs. Simpson came in and spoke to me, and I found one of the florins was bad—I bent it on my desk, went out, and saw Babb and two others outside—the prisoner is one of them—after I had followed them some little distance they passed something from one to the other—I followed them to Mr. Anderson's post-office, Ceylon Terrace, Nine Elms Road—the prisoner and Babb went in there, and Mr. Davies and I followed them in, and found them near the counter, and Mr. Walter Anderson behind the counter, about to place some money on the counter, where there were some penny stamps—I said "Hold on to the money and the stamps too"—I told Babb I should give him in custody for passing bad money, and Townsend for being in complicity with him—Babb said that he had not been in my shop—the prisoner said that I had no reason to detain him, he had not been to my shop, why should I detain him—I told him we would see when I had given him in charge—I gave him the stamps in four rows, with twelve in a row—some bundles of fire-wood were on the floor of Mr. Anderson's shop, and they stood close to it—I kept the florins in my hand, and gave them up at the station.
WALTER WILLIAM ANDERSON . My brother keeps a post-office in Ceylon Terrace, Nine Elmg Road, and I assist him—I was there on 21st February, at 6 o'clock, p.m.—the prisoner came in first, and Babb close after him—the prisoner asked me to buy 6s. 6d. worth of postage-stamps; one lot was 4s. worth, and the other 2s. 6d. worth—I gave him 6s. 4d. for them, stopping 2d. for commission—he then asked if I would give him two sixpences for a shilling—Lancaster then came in, and told me not to change the stamps, as they were passing bad money—I took back the money, and gave the stamps to the constable—the prisoner stood at the grocery counter, where there were some bundles of wood.
Cross-examined. There was no attempt made to pass bad money.
FREDERICK HORATIO HOLLINGSWORTH . I am errand boy at Mr. Anderson's—I was sent for a constable—I saw the prisoner and Babb in the shop, and after they were taken away, I moved some firewood, and found a nearly new half-crown, wrapped in a piece of newspaper—I gave it to my master—he gave it back to me, and I marked it, and gave it to the constable—I had not seen either of these men standing at the place where I found it.
Cross-examined. I moved the wood about 8.30 the same day, about an hour and a half after they had been in the shop—I did not notice whether anybody else had been in the shop—my master put it in his waistcoat pocket—I marked the coin I received from him by cutting out the eye of George III.—where it came from I do not know.
Cross-examined. I kept it in my waistcoat pocket—there was no other money there—there are no bad half-crowns about the shop.
JOSEPH COOPER (Policeman 75 W). I took the prisoner and Babb at Mr. Anderson's shop—I found on the prisoner a scarf-pin, a knife, three sovereigns in a purse, a half-crown, and a shilling, good—Hollingsworth gave me the half-crown, and Lancaster gave me a good florin and a bad one (produced)—Mr. Anderson gave me 6s. 6d. worth of stamps, in two lots, Cross-examined. I found no bad money on the prisoner.
get into a cell between them—I made this note of their conversation (produced)—Babb said "Pike, I shall match my dose against yours"—Townsend said "You are all right, Jack, I shan't know you; I have never seen you before, Jack"—Babb said "Pike, do you think we shall get remanded for a week?"—Townsend said "I think we are in for it this time; if they find that piece that I dropped in the hock shop we will get a wrench"—Babb said "Did you get anything to eat when you were locked up before?"—Townsend said "Yes, plenty; where did you get that two shillings from?"—Babb said "I got it at the shop; Jack, where did you get the stamps from?"—Townsend said "They were sent me; do you see?"—Babb said "All right"—Townsend said "You should not have given your right address; you are wrong"—Babb said "I thought it was best"—Townsend said "They are sure to turn it over, and search it"—Babb said "I don't think they will"—Townsend said "Hocketty George will give them some trouble to get him"—this cross on the paper means Townsend.
Cross-examined. This was all written at the time, interlineations and all—I was sent there—these two strokes mean Babb—there was more said before that, but I could not understand which was talking, which was the reason I separated them—there was also a great deal of obscene language, but I put down what I thought would be evidence—Babb gave his right address.
Witnesses for the Defence.
FRANCES TOWNSEND . I am the wife of William Townsend, of 8, Vincent Row, Westminster—the prisoner is my son—my husband had an apoplectic fit, and could do no work on Valentine's Day, and the prisoner was working in his stead, over at the yard, not 100 yards from our house, where Mr. Lock is one master, and Mr. Ancell the other—he came in about 12 o'clock, or a little after, to dinner, and at a few minutes after 5 o'clock to tea, and he went out again before 6 o'clock, and returned about 9.30, or a few minuted more—he was in the house from 5 to 6 o'clock—other witnesses were here yesterday, one of them, Pitman, could not come to-day, because I could not afford to pay the witnesses.
Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. My son lives with me—he was doing an odd job at cab washing, for a man who has cut his hand—he was employed at Jackson's building firm, but was discharged at the time of the frost, and has only worked with his father since—I do not know what he was doing on the day he was taken—I did not go before the Magistrate—I first heard that my son was charged when he wrote to me from Horsemonger Land Gaol—I have not got the letter—I burned it—he went out on 13th February, at 8.30 or 9 o'clock, as near as I recollect—on the 14th, when he came in at 12.30, I gave him a valentine which had been sent him—on the 15th he was cutting chaff for Mr. Lock, and was in bed before 10 o'clock—he did not tell me in the letter the time that he was charged; the detectives told me that—Charles Pitman is the cab-master, who he was working for—he was here yesterday.
Re-examined. I do not know whether Pitman was seen here yesterday, I was in the ladies' waiting-room all day—two valentines were sent to my son—he washed himself between 5 and 6 o'clock, and went out.
He was further charged with a previous conviction at this Court, in December, 1869, of a like offence, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
He received a good character— Six Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD PUPLITT . I am a moulding-machine worker, and live at 21, Grafton street, Lambeth—on Sunday evening, 5th March, I was in Kent Street, and went to a brothel with the female prisoner—I undressed myself, and sat on the bed—I had not been in the room two minutes and a half, before I felt a violent blow on the back of my head, and another on my ear, and the male prisoner assaulted me in front—he held me while the female rifled my pockets—she escaped from the room, and in came four or five men—I broke from Collins, and rushed to the window, and called out "Murder!" and "Thieves!"—a policeman came to my assistance, and I gave Collins in charge for an assault—on dressing myself, I found I was minus my coat and boots, and I lost a sovereign, a half-sovereign, several 2s. pieces, and some small coin—I saw the female prisoner again that same afternoon, at the station, and recognized her—my mouth was cut by the male prisoner, but I can't remember how it was done.
Collins. Q. Where were you when I first saw you?" A. Sitting on the bed, and you caught hold of me—I did not throw a candlestick at your head; I have no recollection of it—we did not have a fair stand up fight, there was no fight whatever—I might have struck you, in the scuffle, but only to protect my life.
Lightfoot. Q. Did I take the money out of your pocket? A. Yes, and no one else—I was not in bed when the man came in—I had taken off my trowsers, coat, and waistcoat, and put them on a chair, and while the man was standing in front of me, so that I could not move, I saw you take the money out of my trowsers—this was between 12 and 1 o'clock in the morning—I was not sober or I should not have been there, but I knew what I was about—I did not jump out of bed and throw the candlestick at the man—the money did not fall from my trowsers on the floor—there was none left and the pockets were turned inside out.
COURT. Q. Where had you met with the female? A. Between Bedlam and St. George's Catholic Cathedral—we went into two public-houses before we got to this house—I asked her to go to Woolwich with me—I was not drinking with different men, only with the female—I might have said, before the Magistrate, that I drank with two or three men; it has passed my recollection—I was not ordered out of any house—the constable afterwards showed me a sovereign, a half sovereign, and sixpence.
EDWIN REEVES (Policeman M 180). I was called to this room in Kent Street, and saw the prosecutor, and about twelve other men trying to eject him—he said "I came up here with a woman; I was in here but a few minutes when the male prisoner came in, and he assaulted me and held me
down on the bed while the woman rifled my pockets"—the prisoner denied it—he gave his address as residing at the house—he was sober—the prosecutor was very drunk, and was naked except his shirt and stockings, his trowsers were lying on the floor with the pockets turned inside out—I looked for his boots, coat, and hat, but could not find them.
JOHN MARSH (Detective Officer M). I went to this brothel about 3 o'clock on the Sunday afternoon, and saw the female prisoner there, with two other women—I told her I should take her into custody for being concerned with the man she lived with in robbing a man in her room, about 1.15 that morning—she said "I was not there, and I know nothing about it"—I told her she would have to accompany me to the station—she went towards the window, and took something from her bosom—I took it from her hand—it was a purse, a sovereign, a half-sovereign, and sixpence—I asked what she meant by this; she made no answer—at the station she said "There was a fight in the room, and the money dropped out, and I picked it up and kept it"—I searched the place, but did not find any of the clothes—they have not been traced—I have frequently seen the prisoners together—they had lived at this house for six weeks or two months—the female was not in her own room when I took her, but in another room.
Collins' Defence. I know nothing at all about the robbery. I lost my coat as well in the scuffle. We had a fair stand-up fight, and he halloaed out "Police!" and "Murder!" after I got the best of him; and when the policeman came, he said he would give me in charge. If I had robbed the man I could have got away before the policeman came.
Ligktfoot Defence. I did not steal the money; I picked it up. I thought he was locked up, as he went to the station-house. I don't know anything of his clothes. I lost several of my own things. When he screamed "Murder!" no end of people came into the room.
GUILTY of stealing only . They both PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions. Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
353. FRANCES AMPHLETT (48), PLEADED GUILTY ** to stealing two coats, two shirts, one petticoat, one bedgown, three aprons, and two table covers, of Thomas Cousins, her master. Also embezzling 2s. 6d.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. KEBLE the Defence.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution,
CHARLES HENLEY . I am a grocer and cheesemonger, at 14, Buckingham Square, New Kent Road—on Monday, 2nd March, about 11.45, I was going along Blackfriars Road, towards the "Elephant and Castle"—when I got to Little Surrey Street I met four men—they separated, two on each side, so that I had to go through the centre—as I went through; I received a blow which knocked me down—the prisoner caught hold of my watch, and
ran away in the direction of Blackfriars Bridge—I jumped up—I was not down a second—I followed them—I saw the prisoner throw down the watch—I picked it up, and followed him, calling "Police!" through Friar Street—I was about ten yards behind him—I never lost sight of him till he ran into the arms of a policeman—the other three men went in a contrary direction—I have not the slightest doubt that the prisoner took the watch.
Prisoner. Q. Did you have your coat buttoned up? A. No—you did not take the chain, it broke off by the watch.
THEOPHILUS MASON (Policeman M R 6). I heard cries of "Police!" and "Stop thief!"—I was in Surrey Place—I saw the prisoner and prosecutor running towards Friar Street—I followed him up a court, where he was taken by another constable.
HENRY GASCOYNE (Policeman M 152). I was in Surrey Place, Blackfriars Road, and heard cries of "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoner running five or ten yards in front of the prosecutor—I ran a little way after them, and then went round and caught the prisoner as he was coming into Blackfriars Road again—the prosecutor and Mason came up—the prosecutor charged him with stealing his watch—the prisoner was very violent, and tried all he could to get away—this is the watch—the bow is broken—the prosecutor handed it to me when I took the prisoner.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he was with three others, who shoved him against the prosecutor, who halloaed out "Stop thief!" and a policeman came up and took him.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted, in January, 1870— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
JAMES THOMAS . I am a clerk, and live at 174, Southwark Bridge Road—on 9th March, at 9.45 in the morning, I was in the Borough, walking along the pavement—I had an umbrella in one hand, and a parcel in the other—just opposite the "Hop Pole" public-house there is a narrow court—as I passed the court White came out, and butted himself against me—I thought it was ah accident, but he instantly seized my chain, and it was gone in an instant, all except the hook that was on the button—I valued it at 8l.—Carter stood at the corner of the court—White ran into the court after he had taken the chain—it was a very narrow court, only room for one to go in at a time—I followed White, and as I passed Carter, he put out his foot, and tripped me up—I fell on my face—I got up, and picked up my hat, and parcel, and umbrella, and still followed after White—the court is about 100 yards long, with a brick wall on each side—when he got to the end of the court I lost sight of him—I went straight to the police-station, and gave information—I was quite sober.
Carter. You pointed out two other young men. Witness. I did not identify you at first; afterwards I saw you more distinctly, and heard you speak, and I knew your voice, because you said to me at the corner of the court "What is the matter?"—I won't swear that White is the person who took my chain, although I am sure it was him.
JAMES BAXENDALE . I live at 2, Red Cross Road, Borough, and am a shoeblack—I was standing opposite Pudding Alley, and saw Mr. Thomas walking past—Carter tripped him up, and snatched his watch, and gave it to White.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD Defended Hand.
WILLIAM BRYANT . I was manager to Mr. Charles Woolley, carman and contractor, in Aldgate—the prisoner Grafton was in his employ on 27th February—I gave him an order to collect some tittlers of sugar and to call on his way to Paddington far some sacks—he was to collect the sugar at Whitechapel, about 10.30—from there he was to go to Maryborough Street, and then to Paddington—I had occasion to go to Monument Yard, and coming out of Eastcheap I saw Grafton with the van going down King William Street, altogether out of his way—I went to Guildhall about 11.45, and when I came out of the Court Grafton was waiting outside—he said "I have given my horse and van up to a man that you sent, and I was to come back to drive some other horse, did you send anyone to take the hone and van away"—I said "Certainly not"—he said "A man came to me in Holborn and said that Mr. Bryant had sent him, and I was to come to the yard and drive another horse"—I said "You must have been very foolish, you knew there was no horse in the stable, and I should not send a man to do the work after I had sent you out"—I took him into the trap and drove to Marlborough Street where the sugar was to go to, and found it was not there—I went to Marlborough Street Police Court and Bow Street, but could find out nothing about the van or sugar—the next morning I received this Post Card from Mr. Simms, of Greenwich—(Read): "It is now nearly 7 o'clock, and one of your horses and waggons have been standing at my door since noon, the horse with nosebag on. Samuel Simms"—I immediately sent one of the men to Greenwich to get the horse and van—it was brought back, but there was no sugar in it—I asked the prisoner what he was doing in King William Street—he said that Ludgate Hill was blocked and he had gone down Fenchurch Street and Cannon Street as being the next way to go—he had the pony and trap for about five hours on the Monday night to see if he could find anything of the horse and van—he did not say that he had ever seen the man before who had taken it from him—the horse and van and sugar were worth 140l.—I think the value of the sugar was about 67l.
SAMUEL SIMS . I am a bookseller, of 26, Great King Street, Greenwich—I wrote this Post Card—I saw the van opposite my door about 11.45 o'clock—there was no one with it—I wrote the Post Card about 7 o'clock in the evening, and about 10.30 the Police took it away—I took the address from the van.
THOMAS PARTRIDGE (Detective Officer E). I went to Aldgate and took Grafton—he was charged with being concerned in stealing the horse and van, and 20 cwt. of sugar—he said he knew nothing about it, more than a man came to him in Holborn, and said "Is your name Grafton?" and he said "Yes;" the man said "You are wanted at the office, and I am to deliver the sugar"—I said "Did you ask the man his name?"—he said "No, but as he was dressed as a carman I thought it was all right, and I gave it up to him"—I don't believe the horse and van could get from Oxford Street to Greenwich by 12.20.
RODERICK SUTHERLAND (Detective Officer E). On the night of 7th March, about 9 o'clock, from information I received I went to a house in Shadwell—the door was opened by Hand—I told him I was a detective officer, and I
should take him for being concerned, with another, in stealing a horse and ran and sugar, the property of Mr. Woolley, a carman, of Aldgate, City—he said "I don't know anything about that, you know one thing and I know another thing; you will have to find out"—I took him to Bow Street, and he was identified by Mr. Colder as the man who came to 12, Neptune Street, Rotherhithe, with a horse and van containing sugar, and unloaded it, stating that it was for a man named Biggs—he did not say anything when he was identified.
JAMES GOLDER . I am a grocer and general-shop keeper, at Rotherhithe—on the 27th February I was looking after the shop at 12, Neptune Street—Hand came there and asked for Mr. Biggs—I told him Mr. Biggs did not live there—he said "This is 12, Neptune Street"—I said "Yes"—he said he had got some goods to be left for Mr. Biggs, and he would be there by-and-bye—I told him to wait a minute; I was attending to a customer—after that I told him Mr. Fraser, the proprietor of the house, was not at home—he said he had got some tittlers for 12, Neptune Street, and there was no mistake—I asked him if he had any note, or anything—he produced a note, and said "You won't want that," and put it in his pocket again—the sugar was in a van—I said "I don't know anything about stowing any goods here, but if you are sure there is no mistake you had better put them in the passage"—he did so—after they were all delivered I counted them; there were 99—I asked him if he had any note or invoice—he said "Only the paper I gave you," and he drew this paper out of his pocket, and gave it to me—it is from Messrs. Elers & Morgan—I went to them, and afterwards gave the sugar up to Miles & Son.
JOSEPH BIGGS . I am a commission agent, at 109, Carey Street, St. George's Road, Pockham—I know Hand—on 27th February, Golder met me about 9 o'clock, and from what he said I went to Neptune Street, Rotherhithe—I had not given Hand any authority to take sugar to Neptune Street—Golder described the man who brought it, which tallied with the description of Hand—I made a statement, and Hand was taken in custody—I went to Shadwell, where he lived—he was not there, and I went to Bancroft Road, Mile End—I saw him standing opposite a public-house—I called him across the road, and asked him what authority he had for taking 99 tittlers, and leaving them at Neptune Street for me; he had no right to do so at all—he said "I have sold the sugar to Mr. Brown, and have received three sovereigns on account"—he did not say whether he had told Mr. Golder that—I asked him what he was going to do about the sugars, and he asked me and Mr. Golder to wait till Mr. Brown came for them—we gave him till 1 o'clock; it was then 12.30—I saw Mr. Brown coming up the Bancroft Road, and I said "Here comes Mr. Brown," and when he came up, Hand went to his bouse—Brown said he would have nothing to do with the sugars—Hand said he had not got money enough to pay the carman to take them away—I said "Surely if you have sold the sugar and received three sovereigns, you have sufficient money to take them away"—he said he had spent the money, and he should have to pawn his coat to pay the carman to take them away.
Cross-examined. I did not see Hand in the Borough on the Monday afternoon, or in the morning, about 11.30—this (produced) is a piece of paper, with my name and address, "J. Biggs, 109, Carey Street, St. George's Road, Peckham"—I did net give it to the prisoner, and tell him to take the sugar there—I can't say when I wrote it.
Grafton. Biggs is the man who took the van from me in Holborn.
JOSEPH BROWN . I am a carman, at 41, St. Peter's Street, Mile End Road—I know the prisoner Hand by the name of "Tom"—he never offered me any sugars for sale, and I never paid him any money on account of them, nor did my brother—I saw the prisoner on 28th February, with Biggs, who asked my brother about the sugar—my brother said "I will have nothing to do with it, nor with you, in future"—Biggs said to Hand "Well, they must be got away from where they are"—Hand said "I have got no money to take them away, to pay for the van; it was through you they were sent there, and you must fetch them away yourself"—Hand gave me a piece of paper, which had on it "J. Biggs, 12, Neptune Street, Rotherhithe"—this occurred in the presence of my brother, Hand, Biggs, and myself.
THE COURT directed a verdict of NOT GUILTY, and expressed an opinion that Biggs was the guilty party.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MAY 1, 1871.