CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SEVENTH SESSION, HELD MAY 1ST, 1871.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
Short-hand Writters in 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, May 1st, 1871, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. THOMAS DAKIN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir GEORGE WILSHIRE BRAMWELL, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir JOHN BARNARD BYLES , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir JAMES DUKE , Bart., Sir ROBERT WALTER GARDEN , Knt., JOHN CARTER , Esq., Sir BENJAMIN SAMUEL PHILLIPS , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNET, Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; SILLS JOHN GIBBONS, Esq., Sir SIDNEY HEDLEY WATERLOW , Knt., and WILLIAM JAMES RICHMOND COTTON , 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. SEVENTH 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, May 1st, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND and LEE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU
WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM PRITCHARD . I am a cashier, at the London Joint Stock Bank—this cheque, for 315l., was presented to me on 9th January—I don't remember exactly at what time of day, but late in the banking hours—I do not remember who presented it—I cashed it entirely in gold—the person asked for a bag—I gave him one, and he put the gold into it—it was a bag of this description (produced)—with the name of the bank stamped on it—I did not learn that the cheque was a forgery till about a fortnight afterwards.
Cross-examined. We do a very large business—we give those bags to any customers who require them—we do not give them to strangers—I do not know who it was that presented the cheque—I said at the Mansion House, my belief was that it was not the prisoner—that is the best of my belief.
Re-examined. I did not see the prisoner till he was in custody at the Mansion House.
COURT. Q. Had you known him previously? A. I had never seen him before, to my knowledge—I gave the person the bag, it being a large amount of gold—I have no recollection of his being a person I knew at the time.
JAMES ROBBET PIKE . I am a member of the firm of Merriman & Pike, solicitors, of 25, Austin Friars—we keep an account at the London Joint Stock Bank, Princes Street—the prisoner was in our service—he came to us towards the end of June, and left towards the end of August—he was cashier and book-keeper—it was his duty to take charge of the cheque-book, and to fill up cheques and the counterfoils—I have the cheque-book here, which was in use at that time—it was our practice to draw cheques, payable to a letter and number—the number would be the consecutive number in the cheque-book, and the letter would correspond with a book that we keep, which is practically our cash-book—we begin with the letter A, and go on
through the alphabet—when the prisoner was there our cheques were drawn to the letter I—we do not use J—this cheque purports to bear my signature, of the firm—Mr. Merriman also signs for the firm, but our two signatures are quite different—this is an imitation of my signature—it is not written by me, or by my authority; no part of it—I know nothing whatever of the transaction of 315l. for stamp-duty—it is one of the cheques out of this cheque-book—I find a page of three cheques missing from the books, counterfoils, and all—I have no doubt whatever that the filling up of this cheque is in the prisoner's writing—I produce a number of genuine cheques, filled up in the writing, while he was with us, also this account and letter—these two letters and agreement produced by the officer were sent to the prisoner, signed by me, in the name of the firm—the prisoner's salary was, I think, 150l. a year.
Cross-examined. With very few exceptions, the counterfoils are all in the prisoner's writing, or that of a previous clerk—some are in ray writing, and some in one or two clerks in the office, but comparatively very few—no doubt the person who filled up the counterfoil would also fill up the body of the cheque—I have not the smallest hesitation in saying that the body of the forged cheque is in the prisoner's writing—he came into our service on 27th June, and left on 22nd August—the signature to the cheque, I should say, having regard to the general character of the writing, might well have been written by the prisoner—I can't go further than that—to me it is not a good imitation—I have no doubt it would appear so to a stranger not familiar with my writing, but I never wrote so nervously and shakily—it is a good general imitation—it would deceive, probably—the whole management of cash matters, as to bags, receipts, and payments, drawing cheques, and everything, was under the prisoner's control; therefore, whatever was thrown about the office, I should regard as carelessness—I don't know of bags lying about—I don't mean to say that I have not seen a bag on the drawers, or on the prisoner's table—I have, of course; in the ordinary course of his business, it would be so—we have ten, eleven, or twelve clerks in the office.
GEORGE HERBERT BURNS . I live at 12, Portland Place North, Clapham Road, and am clerk to Messrs. Merriman & Pike, and was so when the prisoner was there—I sat in the same room with him for the first few weeks—I had opportunities of seeing his handwriting—I believe the filling-up of this 315l. cheque to be in his writing—I saw him fill up the greater portion of these twelve cheques that have been produced—I was in the habit of sending to the bank for the pass-book—I think after 9th January I sent for it first about the 16th; it was the practice to send for it once a week—it was then I discovered that the firm was debited with this cheque.
Cross-examined. I was in the same office with the prisoner three weeks in succession—I said before the Lord Mayor that I felt quite sure that the signature "Merriman & Pike" to this cheque, was in the prisoner's writing, and to the best of my belief, the body of it also—I expressed the strongest belief about the signature—I did not say it appeared to be a tracing—I said I believed it was not a copy of a cheque signature, but of a letter signature—I think the body and the signature were written by the same person—there are some words on some of these cheques which exactly correspond with the writing on the forged cheque—some words are more like the prisoner's writing than others.
Arms," in Sun Street, Finsbury—on a Monday evening, about the 9th January last, between 6 and 7 o'clock, the prisoner came there in a cab—he came to the front of the bar with the cabman, and they had some refreshment—he told the cabman that he should not require him any more, and the cabman went outside—after that the prisoner produced a bag of gold—I asked him what he was doing with that bag of gold—he said he had been receiving some money for his employer, and was too late to take it to the bank—I told him he had better leave it with me, and call for it in the morning, when he went to business—he said it was quite right—he gave me ten sovereigns out of the bag, and put the bag in his pocket—I again asked him to let me take charge of it for him—he then took out three sovereigns and gave me, and then he gave me the bag—I took it into the bar-parlour, opened it, and saw that it contained sovereigns—it was a bag of this colour, and had the word "Bank" on it—I asked him to let me have the bag, because he was the worse for drink, and I thought he had no business with it—I took charge of it, and he left—in about half or three quarter's of an hour he returned, with his wife, and said he had brought his wife, and would I give the bag of gold up to her, which I did, and the thirteen loose sovereigns also—I did not count it, but I should judge there was about 200l. in the bag.
Cross-examined. I am sure this was on a Monday evening—the prisoner lived at the back of our place—I knew him, he had been a customer of ours.
THOMAS BOND . I am a cab-driver, in Gray's Inn Road—in the beginning of January, I remember the prisoner engaging ray cab—I can't speak positively to the day, but I buried my wife on the 12th, and it was two or three days before that—it was either a Monday or Tuesday—he hired me in Moorgate Street—I drove him to the New Kent Road, and from there to the Old Kent Road, to a baker's shop—he got out there, and when he came back he said he had left 100l. or 120l. with a man in the shop, who came out with him, and had something to drink; as I understood, it was to mind for him—I then drove him to a baker's shop, in Kent Street, Borough—he went in there, and put some money on the counter, which the baker took up—it appeared to me to be gold—it was yellow coin—he counted off the counter ten different times—whether he was counting one or two at a time I can't say—I then drove him to a public-house in High Street, Borough; the "White Horse," I think it was—he went in there, and asked me if I would have something to drink—I said "No"—he went to several public-houses, and ultimately I left him at the "Swan," in Coleman Street, City, between 2 and 3 o'clock in the afternoon—I had taken him up soon after 10 o'clock in the morning—he was with me all that time—he was in one public-house in St. Mary Axe about an hour and three-quarters—when I left him he was very much the worse for liquor.
Cross-examined. I can't recollect the name of the baker in Kent Street, where he put down the money—I afterwards saw him before the Magistrate—I think I have not seen him here to-day—it was yellow coin that was paid—I was on the cab—I did not go into the shop.
JAMES HOLLICK DAVIS . I keep the "Swan Tavern," Coleman Street—I have known the prisoner about three years—on Tuesday, 10th January, between 2 and 3 o'clock, he came into my house—he was intoxicated, and was refused to be served—my barmaid told me, in his presence, that he was throwing his money about—I went to him, and said "Tier, don't be foolish; where have you got this money from; you had better give it to
me to take care of for you"—he put some gold on the counter, about 30l.—I advised him to come into the bar-parlour, which he did—he then pulled a bag out of his pocket, and threw it on the table—I called a gentleman in to see me count it, and there was ninety sovereigns, and one half-sovereign—it was in a bag like this, with "London Joint Stock Bank" on it—the prisoner told me first it was his brother's money, and afterwards he said it was commission on runts—I knew he was in the service of Mr. Lindo, and when the prisoner had gone, I sent for Mr. Daw, Mr. Lindo's chief clerk—next morning the prisoner came for the money—I said "I can't give it up, because Mr. Lindo says I am not to give it to you"—he came again for it on the 12th—I said "I shall not give it up to you unless you go with me to Mr. Lindo; which he did—after I had seen Mr. Lindo I gave the bag to Mr. Daw, in the prisoner's presence—Mr. Daw counted the money out, and handed it over to the prisoner, and gave me this receipt for it, which the prisoner signed and Mr. Daw witnessed.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner on and off for three years, using my house constantly—I knew that at that time his family had got small-pox in the house very badly—I have seen his handwriting several times—this cheque is not like his ordinary handwriting—I saw him sign this receipt—that is his ordinary writing—he was sober at that time.
Re-examined. I should think the body of these other cheques was all in his ordinary writing, except this one for 10l. 0s. 6d.—I have seen him write several times, on my counter—I have seen him make mems and different things—I have had one business transaction with him—I once had a cheque returned dishonoured, and he got the money for me—he has also written in my bar-parlour—he took an inventory of my things for me—my opinion is that the filling up of this cheque is not the prisoner's writing—I could not swear to the signature, I merely mean the body.
GEORGE WILLIAM DAW . I am managing-clerk to Mr. Lindo, a solicitor, of King's Arms Yard—the prisoner was in his employment for some time; he was there before me—he left about 15th January; I wrote out his discharge at Mr. Lindo's request—I was sent for by Mr. Davis, of the "Swan," I think on 10th January—the prisoner had not then received his discharge, but he had absented himself for ten days or a fortnight—about the 12th Mr. Pavis came to the office with the prisoner, and handed me a bag of money—it was a bag of this description; I counted it, and there was 90l. odd—the prisoner then handed me 15l., which he was deficient of in office money and likewise, he lent me 10l., stating that he had received some money from his brother, and would I accept a loan of 10l. if I required it.
Cross-examined. Mr. Lindo is not here—I know that he had requested the prisoner to keep away on account of the small-pox—there was something like 15s. 4d. due to him, and that I handed to him.
Re-examined. He had 30s. a week, I believe—he had been absent a week before this, and when he returned he said one of his children had small-pox, and Mr. Lindo told him on no account to come to the office; that was about a week before Mr. Davis came—he afterwards informed Mr. Lindo that the child was better, and he was asked to come back, but he did not.
COURT. Q. Had he been applied to for the 15l.? A. Not that I am aware of—he was not under notice to leave at that time—he was cashier, and would have to make up the cash.
HENRY GOOSE . I am a baker, and live at 7, Wells Street, Stratford—I know a man named Henry Boucher; he was a baker in the Old Kent Road—I do not know what has become of him—in the beginning of February, between the 1st and 11th, Boucher lent me 50l. in gold—I was then employed at Mr. Roberts', in the Old Kent Road—on 16th February, Boucher came to me, and in consequence of what he said, on the 17th I went to a public-house in Mercer Street, Long Acre, and saw the prisoner—I knew him as Mr. Lacey—I asked for Mr. Lacey; Boucher told me to do so—that was the first time I had seen him—I told him that Mr. Boucher had come down to me for 25l., and I could not meet his demand—he said Mr. Boucher had no business to lend the money without his consent, and he would make him pay it before 4 o'clock—I had given Boucher an I O U for the money.
Cross-examined. I borrowed the money from Boucher—he is not here, I don't know where he is—I have tried to find him.
JOHN MCKENZIE . I live at 23, Aldenham Street, St. Pancras—I am a reader for the press—I have known the prisoner about three years—I remember his coming to me about the beginning of February—I don't remember the day—he told me he was in a little money difficulty, which he expected to get over in a day or two; that he was going away from home, and it was rather expensive, and I told him he might come and live with me for two or three days if he liked—I think he came on the Wednesday evening, and he stayed till the Monday following—he then left, by getting over the garden wall at the back—his son came to see him and said there was some one suspicious outside—I thought it might be a sheriff's officer—and it was after that he got over the wall.
ROBERT OUTRAM (City Policeman.) In the middle of January I received information with regard to the prisoner—I think it was about the 18th—I found out that he was living at 8, Finsbury Avenue—I and another officer in plain clothes watched that house from January till 18th February, but was not able to find the prisoner till that evening, when I saw him in the "Prince of Wales" beer-shop, in South Street, Finsbury—I told him I was a police-officer and should take him into custody for forcing and uttering a cheque for 315l. on the London Joint-Stock Bank—I said "You will have to go with me to the Bow Lane police-station"—he said "No, it is not good enough "—I said "You will have to go, and you had better go quietly "—on the way he said "I know all about it, it is that money affair; you think it is me because I had some money and have been away from home, but I have had a 20l. contract; the money I had my brother lent me, and he was up the other day to know if I wanted any more "—after getting to Bow Lane Station he said he wished to speak to me privately—the other officers left the room, and he then said "If you will let me speak to my old woman, I can put twenty-five sovereigns in your fist in five minutes, to let me slip out of this; I will bolt on the Continent and you can still be looking after me; will you do it?"—I said "Certainly not "—he said he would give it me in twenty-five sovereigns, and if I did not like to take it, he would have it left anywhere I liked—the next day, Sunday, he called me to the cell and said "I hope you are not going to say anything about the offer I made you Lost night"—I went and searched his house in Finebury Avenue—his wife was living there, and four or five children—I found these two letters, and the agreement that I have produced, in a drawer among other papers—they are signed by Merriman and Pike, and addressed to the prisoner.
Cross-examined. This conversation about the 25l. was after I had told him he was charged with forgery, while waiting in the reserve room—he was not drunk—he had been drinking, but was certainly not drunk.
Re-examined. He walked part of the way to the station—and as soon as I could get a cab I put him into it.
CHARLES CHABOT . I live at 25, Southampton Row, Bloomsbury—I am a lithographer—I have made handwriting my study for a great many years—I have looked at the cheque for 315l., and also at the other cheques and documents produced, and I have no doubt whatever that the filling up of that cheque is in the same handwriting as the filling up of the other cheques; and also in the same handwriting as this account—I rather think that the signature to the cheque is an imitation of the signature to one of the letters written to the prisoner by Mr. Pike—it bears more resemblance to the signature to those letters than to the signature to the cheques—the lower part of the figures "3" and "5" in the amount 315l. in the forged cheque are terminated in a very peculiar manner—they are formed very deliberately, and terminate in dots—both of those figures occur in the cheque of 26th July, 1870, for 53l. 12s. 11d., and they are terminated precisely in the same manner—the figure "5" occurs also in the cheque of 27th July, 1870, and the termination of that figure corresponds—the figure "3" also occurs in the cheques of 30th July, and 3rd August, and that corresponds with the "3" in the forged cheque—and not only are the figures terminated in that peculiar manner, but some of the letters also—the capitals "S" and "T" in the forged cheque are both terminated in the same manner as the figures, after the same plan—there is a peculiarity of the writer to dwell upon those terminations—although he writes rather a free hand, yet those particular terminations seem to be slowly done, even to forming a dot at the end—in the cheque of 28th July, 1870, the capital "T" in the word "Two" is terminated very nearly in the same way—and also the "T" in "Ten" in the cheque of 5th August—the "d" in "pounds," in the forged cheque is terminated in rather a peculiar manner, the tail being thrown close over the other letter; the "d's" lie down on the other letters which precede them—that is a common way of making the letter "d"—still there is something peculiar in the closeness in which the tail lies over the line of writing—it is in the word "hundred"—I should say I made a mistake—the same peculiarity occurs in the word "referred" in the letter of 15th August—the "T" in "Tier" terminates in the manner I have pointed out—the abbreviation for the word "and" occurs I think eleven times in the various documents written by the prisoner, and in every instance, without exception, it is joined to the word which follows it, as in the forged cheque—in the dating to the forged cheque there is no stop after the name of the months, or after the figures of the year; no punctuation; and there is no punctuation to any one of the cheques—that is an unimportant point, but it is one among a number—the letters "oun" in the word "pounds" are very characteristic, finishing with a dot before it so connected with the next letter—and in every one of the cheques the "i" is formed in the same way—the word "fifteen," in one of these cheques, and in the 315l. cheque, perfectly agrees—I speak without any doubt whatever on the subject.
Cross-examined. I have spent some time over these documents—I should be very sorry to form an opinion involving a man's character without—it took me some time to arrive at a conclusion, undoubtedly—it took me very
I little time to arrive at the conclusion, but I kept on, to be assured that I was well warranted in giving evidence—I would not give evidence without a very careful examination—there are other experts besides me—Mr. Netherclift is one—he and I have differed; in the celebrated Ryves case I our opinions were diametrically opposite upon a number of documents—I was not examined in that case; it so happened that the case broke down before it came to my evidence—Mr. Netherclift is a gentleman of some eminence as an expert—one of us must undoubtedly have been mistaken.
Re-examined. The Jury in that case thought Mr. Netherclift was mistaken—his evidence broke down, and it was not necessary to call me.
MR. M. WILLIAMS called the following Witnesses for the Defence.
RICHARD WHATHKRHOGG . I am an accountant, my office is at 15, King I Street, Cheapside—I have known the prisoner about four years—I have I frequently seen him write, and know his handwriting well—I was clerk in the same office with him two and a half years, at Mr. L. H. Evans', an I accountant, in Goleman Street—the signature to this 315l. cheque is most decidedly not the prisoner's writing—I had a desk in the same room with him, and during two and a half years I was perpetually having his writing before my eyes—looking at it again, I should say, as I said before, most decidedly it is not his handwriting.
Cross-examined. I can't say when I heard of the prisoner being in custody—I heard that he was in custody at the Mansion House—I went there—I was not examined as a witness—Mr. Beard appeared for him, I believe—he did not see me there—I never passed a word with Mr. Beard—I went there as a stranger—I did not see this cheque before I got into the box—I beg your pardon, I did; that gentleman (Mr. Beard's clerk) had it in his hand at the Mansion House, and I simply looked at it, just a glance, not enough to enable me to judge about it—I judge of it from my experience of his handwriting—I have had more experience of it, I imagine, than any witness that has been here this morning—I was of the same opinion then as I am now, although I never had it in my hand—it is not a bit like his writing—I can't see it—if it is his writing, he is a very expert hand at disguising it—it is twelve months since we were together in the same office—I left in June, and went into business for myself—I see a cheque here of 30th June, 1870, with the word "fifteen" on it—I don't see the slightest similarity in the two cheques; the man who wrote the one could not have written the other—I am simply giving my opinion to the best of my knowledge and belief, having had great experience in his writing—the formation of this "f" in the "fifteen" in this cheque I could swear to amongst a hundred thousand—in my judgment the two "fifteens" are not a bit alike, it is a different style—the "oun" in "pounds" is such as I should make myself—I don't see anything particular in it, the angular point of the "n" is something that ninety-nine persons out of a hundred would make—the general construction of the letters is not alike—I left Mr. Evans to go into business last Christmas—I have not been on intimate terms with the prisoner since that, I have never seen him—I considered that he had treated me in a very unbusiness like manner, and I was not friendly with him—I have seen him about the streets—I have not seen him actually with a pen in his hand for the last twelve months—he has a brother, he came to Mr. Evans' office once—I should not know him—I believe his family are residing in Ireland.
—I have known the prisoner three or four years—he was in my service at one time for about two years, or two and a half—I have seen him write many times, and know his handwriting perfectly well—this 315l. cheque seems to me thoroughly unlike anything I have ever seen of his—this is the first time I have seen it.
Cross-examined. I had not the slightest idea what I was subpoenaed here for—I really knew nothing of the case—I asked the solicitor this morning why I was subpoenaed, and he told me it was a question of handwriting, or something to that effect—I did not ask to look at the document—this is the first time I have seen it, except having seen it handed about here in Court—the prisoner entered my service, I think, in the middle of 1867, as clerk, and left about twelve or fifteen months ago—I think his salary was about two guineas a week—I have seen his wife at the office—I don't know that he has several children—I last saw him write about twelve or fifteen months ago, but his writing is continually before me, in papers that are lying on the desk—I do not see the slightest similarity to his writing in the filling up of this cheque; there is certainly a slight similarity in the word "fifteen" on this cheque, and in the same word on one of these other cheques, but I don't see that that is anything—I don't see that the word "pounds" in the two cheques resemble each other—I don't say not in the slightest; my own writing is something like this—the writing in these other cheques I can identify—I don't see very much similarity in the word "pounds," in these cheques, and in the 315l. cheque—I don't see any similarity.
Re-examined. He was in a position of trust with me—I always found him trustworthy—I was a partner with Mr. Evans, and they were both in my office at the same time.
ERNEST HAMMOND . I am a manufacturer, and curry on business in London Wall—I have known the prisoner about two years, and have frequently seen his handwriting—I do not see any similarity to his writing in the body of this 315l. cheque, or in the signature—I do not believe it to be his writing.
Cross-examined. I think I last saw him write towards the latter part of last year, at my warehouse—he came to see me on a little matter of business—I can hardly till you what it was he wrote then; it was some private matter—I am a manufacturer of crape goods; it was perhaps twelve months before that that I saw him write at Mr. Buffin's office, but I have had communication from him—I never saw this cheque before it was put into my hands to-day—I was asked to come and give evidence as to his handwriting, if I knew it, and I said certainly I would—I have not been subpoenaed—I was not before the Magistrate—I did not ask to see the document in order that I might examine it before coming into the witness-box—I did not think it worth while looking at the writing on the other cheques—I should be more confirmed than ever that they were not in the same handwriting—I don't think there is any similarity between them—I do not see any similarity in the words "fifteen" and "pounds"—I don't believe that the person who wrote the body of those cheques wrote the 315l. cheque.
PHILIP BREAKSPKARE COLEGROVE . I am a clerk, at present out of employment—I was in the same employ with him for about two years and a half, at Mr. Evans'—I know his handwriting—this cheque for 315l. is most certainly not his writing.
Cross-examined. It is not at all like it—I never saw this cheque till this minute—it is so unlike how that I could speak to it in a minute—I was subpoenaed
on Friday to come here to attest the prisoner's handwriting, to say whether I thought the writing on the cheque was his or not—(looking at three cheques handed to him)—in my judgment these are not written by the same person, they are all three different—if there is one that is written by the prisoner, I should say it was this one, it is much more like his writing than either of the other two—I should not like to swear to it—I should say it was not his—the other two I say are decidedly not.
Re-examined. I received a letter from him about six weeks ago—looking again at this 315l. cheque I say it is certainly not the character of the prisoner's writing; that is my opinion with regard to the whole body of the cheque.
WILLIAM EDWARD GREELEY . I am a solicitor's clerk, in the employ of Messrs. Hensman & Nicholson—I have known the prisoner ever since he came into the employ of Messrs. Merriman & Pike—I am familiar with his handwriting—I cannot recognize his writing in this 315l. cheque—I could not swear that it was his—I should not like to say it was not.
Cross-examined. I was in the employment of Merriman & Pike—it is like his writing in this way, that it is a mercantile hand, and his is a mercantile hand.
PERCY TRAVERS WEATHERHOGG . I am a clerk—I have known the prisoner about three and a half years, and am perfectly familiar with his writing—I believe this 315l. cheque not to be his writing, both the body and signature—I just saw it for a moment at the Mansion House, but not to look at it—looking at it again I am still of the same opinion.
Cross-examined. The last writing I saw of his was in a letter from Newgate, which he wrote to my brother—I have not got it here—he left the office I was in at the end of last March—I have not seen him write since I visited him twice in Newgate; he did not tell me that he had not written the cheque—I merely went to see him as a friend—I did not talk about coming here as a witness; he asked me to come to the Mansion House for him to give evidence—I went there, but was not called—I believe the filling up of all these other cheques to be in his writing, but not the forged one—I don't see any similarity between them—I never saw him make a "P" like that.
GUILTY of Forgery—Five Years' Penal Servitude.
WILLIAMS defended Middleton.
JOHN DUFFELL . I am a labourer, and live at 25, Belmer Street, Commercial Road East—about 12.15, on Sunday morning, 26th March, I was in Osborne Street—four men came up to me, and amongst them the two prisoners—Middleton had hold of my shoulder, and stood at the side of me—I saw his ace distinctly—the public-house lamps were still alight—Murphy took my watch out of my left waistcoat pocket—I had a steel chain, with a cent, piece on it—he took the lot from me—I saw Murphy distinctly, and picked him out of eight or nine men, at the corner of the street, a quarter of an hour afterwards—after they ran away I communicated with the police, and as we were going down to the station Murphy was standing at the corner of the street, with eight or nine others—I went and caught hold of him and said "This is the man"—the police came up and took him—I saw Middleton on the Friday following, at the corner of Mary Street, Whitechapel,
with three men—I followed them down the Whitechapel Road, and along Commercial Road, until I came to Sidney Street, where I saw a constable—Middleton was about twenty or thirty yards ahead of me—I pointed him out to the policeman, and he took him into custody—they did not use any violence to me, they only held me behind—I am perfectly certain they are two of the men who were engaged in the affair.
Cross-examined. I had not been into any public-house—I had been to a friend's house, and was going home—I left there at 11 o'clock, and this was about 12.10 or 12.15—there were four men—it was on the Sunday, and Middleton was not taken till the Friday.
ELIJAH HINK (Policeman H 91). I met the prosecutor in Osborne Street, Whitechapel, and he made a communication to me—we went towards the station, and on the way he pointed out the prisoner Murphy, and accused him of stealing his watch—I told him to go and make sure he was the man, and we would see he did not get away—he went over, and the man was taken into custody—I told him the charge—he said he knew nothing about it—I found nothing on him.
DAVID EBBERTHWAITE (Policeman K 225). On Monday evening, 31st March, the prosecutor pointed out Middleton to me, in Sidney Street, Commercial Road, and I took him into custody—the prosecutor said to Middleton "You, in company of three men, robbed me of my watch and chain, at the corner of Mary Street, Whitechapel," and he said "I am quite innocent of it."
Witness for the Defence.
ELLEN FORDHAM . I have known the prisoner Middleton for a short time—on Saturday, 26th March, I saw him in bed—I live in the same house—I saw him at 9.30, and again at 12.30—my bedroom faces his door—I was waiting on his wife—he was in bed at 9.30—I saw him again at 12.30, when my husband came home; he was in bed then.
Cross-examined. I am no relation to the prisoner—I have known him for a few months since he lived in the house—I did not go before the Police Magistrate—I was only confined a fortnight before—I was in and out of the room several times that evening, with the prisoner's wife, who was near her confinement, and I was attending to her because she had been kind to me—I live at 47, New Nicholl Street, that is about three-quarters of a mile, or a mile, from Osborne Street—it was past 1 o'clock when I went to bed—I have a watch in the house—I never spoke to them till his wife came and did a little for me when I was confined—I had only been up two or three days, and I went in to look after her—the prisoner was in bed the whole of the time, up to past 12 o'clock.
Murphy's Defence. I am innocent; I was standing there, and saw them come over the road, and if I was guilty I should have run away, but being innocent I stopped, as anyone else would.
NOT GUILTY .
361. JOHN GARDNER (27) , to unlawfully obtaining, by means of false pretences, 62 yards of poplin, from John Hogan, with intent to defraud— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
seventh session, 1870—71.
NEW COURT.—Monday, May 1st, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY . He was further charged with a former conviction of a like offence.
WILLIAM HORNE (Policeman.) I produce a certificate—(Read: "Central Criminal Court, James Tyler, convicted June, 1865, of uttering counterfeit coin, after a previous conviction of a like offence, Five Years' Penal Servitude.)"—I was present—the prisoner is the man—I proved the former conviction I against him—he had nine months the first time.
GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. CRAUFDRD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the
ALICE JANE WALTON . My father is a greengrocer, of Old Brentford—on Saturday night, 8th April, about 9 o'clock, I sold the prisoner two oranges for 1 1/2 d.—he gave me a shilling, which I put in the front of the till by itself, but there was other silver at the back—my mother said something—I showed her the shilling, and gave it to my father, who marked it in my presence at the station.
Cross-examined. My mother spoke to me about two minutes after I sold the oranges—no one had been in since the prisoner, but one person was in the shop, who paid my mother—I went out with my father, nobody else came in before that—my mother also puts money in front of the till, but the person had not paid her then—the prisoner took the good shilling out of a purse.
Re-examined. Between the time I took the shilling and my finding it in the till no other shilling was taken.
JOSEPH WALTON . I am the father of the last witness—I went into the shop at 9.10 or 9.15, and she handed me a coin—I told her to put her jacket on, and come up the town with me to see if she could see the man—we saw him in Mr. Basterfield's, a greengrocer, in High Street—I said to him "You gave my daughter a bad shilling"—he said "I, am sorry if I did, I did not know it; I will give you a good one "—he gave me this shilling (produced,) and said "You will not have me looked up"—I made no reply—Mrs. Basterfield produced a bad shilling, I marked it at the station—she did not give it to me.
Cross-examined. I do not know where she took it from, as I kept near the door—there were a quantity of people there, and my back was turned to her—he said that he was not aware he had a bad shilling about him.
SARAH MEAD . I am the wife of Richard Mead, a greengrocer, of Old Brentford, a quarter of a mile from Mr. Walton's—on Saturday night, 8th April, a few minutes after 9 o'clock, I sold the prisoner two oranges for 1 1/2 d.—he gave me a shilling—I put it into my private purse, where I did no
other shilling, and gave him the change and the oranges—Mr. Waltoncame and spoke to me, and I found the shilling in my purse was bad—I gave it to my husband, who took it to the station.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was not there when I found it was bad—they had him in custody then—it was a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes afterwards—I do not keep a till, I have a large pocket; I had shillings there, but I put the prisoner's shilling into my private purse.
RICHARD MEAD . I am the husband of the last witness—I was in a little room behind the shop when the prisoner came in, and saw him put down a shilling—two or three minutes after he had gone I went into the shop—my wife showed me the shilling—I marked it, went to the station, and gave it to a policeman.
ANNA MARIA SHARP . My father keeps a greengrocer's shop in Old Brent-ford, about five minutes' walk from Mr. Mead's and Mr. Walton's—on Saturday night, 8th April, a little before 9 o'clock, I served the prisoner with two oranges, which came to 1 1/2 d.—he gave me a shilling—I put it in the till with other money, and on Monday morning I found a bad shilling there, which I gave to the policeman.
Cross-examined. There were several other shillings there—I take a large amount of money on Saturdays, more than any other night in the week.
ELIZABETH BASTERFIELD . I am a greengrocer, of New Brentford, ten minutes' walk from Mr. Walton's—on Saturday, 8th April, a little after 9 o'clock, I sold the prisoner two oranges for 1d.—he gave me a shilling—I gave him a sixpence, and was just passing the halfpence to him, when Mr. Walton came in, and said "You gave me "a bad shilling, or rather my daughter"—he said "I am very sorry, I will give you a good one;" and he did so—Mr. Walton was standing just inside the door—I put the shilling in my pocket, where I had at least 1l. worth of silver and four other shillings—I afterwards found five shillings there, one of which was bad—I gave it to the policeman.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether it was the shilling he gave me.
GEORGE MEERING (Policeman T 328). I took the prisoner at Mrs. Baster-field's shop, and told him the charge—he said "I had rather give two good than one bad"—I found on him 11s. 3d. in good silver, in a purse, and 3s. 3d. in bronze, in his trowsers pocket, and two oranges—there were fifteen sixpences, a shilling, a florin, and three three penny-pieces.
GUILTY .— Nine Months? Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and MEAD conducted the prosecution.
SUSAN BEARD . My brother keeps the King's Arms, 43, Parker Street, Drury Lane, and I assist him—on Saturday night, 15th April, between 9 and 10 o'clock, the prisoner came in with a man named Harrisson and a woman—they called for a half-pint of gin, which came to 10d., and the prisoner gave me a bad florin—I gave it to my brother, who broke it with his teeth, and asked him how many more they had—he took one out of Harrisson's hand, and broke that also; it was bad—Harrisson said that he had received it from the prisoner in payment of a shilling he owed him—that was a different florin to the one tendered to me—they were given in charge—Harrisson paid for the gin with good money, and said "Perhaps
this is a bad one?" and my brother found it was bad—I gave change for the good florin.
ALFRED JAMES BEARD . I keep the King's Arms, Parker Street, Drury Lane—on 15th April, between 9 and 10 o'clock, the prisoner came in with Harrisson and a female—my sister, who was there, handed me a florin, which I broke with my teeth—I went round the bar, and asked the three how many more they had of that sort—Harrisson pulled some money out of his pocket, took a bad florin from it, and broke that in two—I directly heard something drop, and found a bad florin at the prisoner's feet—I gave him in charge—Harrisson said "I got the bad florin from him; I lent him a shilling during the week, and in the way of payment I gave another shilling, and received the florin.
Prisoner. Q. How far was Harrisson from me? A. A foot, or not much more; the florin on the floor was touching your boot, between your feet—it was not on the outside of your left foot.
JOSEPH HARRISSON . I am a painter and glazier, of King Street, Camden Town—I had been working with the prisoner for some time for Mr. Coles, of Regent's Park, and had lent him a shilling on that Saturday, in Goodge Street—on Saturday, the 15th, we went to his landlady, and he said "Will you lend me 2s.?"—she said "Well, I don't know"—he said "I have always paid you"—she went out and gave him something, I didn't know what, and we went to a public-house opposite and had a half-pint of gin—he chucked down what I believe to be a bad florin—he also gave me a florin, and I gave him a shilling in exchange, as he owed me a shilling—his wife was with us—the landlord's sister picked up the florin the prisoner chucked down, and said that it was bad—I said "Well, he has given me one; perhaps that may be bad;" and he bit it through—I paid for the gin, and got the change—I and the prisoner and the female were all given in custody, and taken before a Magistrate, and I and the female were discharged.
Prisoner. Q. Did you detect that the florin was bad when I gave it to you? A. No; I had one other florin in my possession—I did not change a sovereign or half-sovereign in your company, on that Saturday—Mr. Cole gave me 19s. 6d.—I called for the gin.
JOHN CREESY (Policeman E 18). Harrisson and a female, and the prisoner, were given into my custody—Harrisson said "I am innocent; I have been made a dupe of by the other"—the other said nothing—I found on the prisoner a florin, two shillings, two sixpences, and some coppers.
Prisoner's Defence. I received 19s. from Coles, for whom Harrisson and I worked as painters. I met Harrisson by appointment. I had borrowed a shilling of him, and paid him with a florin, which I had received from my master. The coin picked up must have rolled against my feet The coin which was tendered I must have received; I did not utter it with guilty knowledge.
He was further charged with a previous conviction of felony, in August 1867, when he was sentenced to Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. To this he
PLEADED GUILTY. Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
Stepney—on 16th December I served the prisoner with a half-quartern of gin, in a small bottle, which came to 2 1/2 d.—she gave me a bad florin—I broke it with my teeth, and showed it to Brydon, a detective, who was in the bar—I asked the prisoner where she lived—she said "On the other side of the Commercial Road"—I said "It is very strange for you to come down here for a half-quartern of gin; do you know this is a bad florin?"—she said "No"—I said "It is," and laid it on the counter—she took it, and gave me a good half-crown—Brydon followed her—I saw her the same night at the station, but did not prosecute her, as no other bad coin was found on her.
JAMES BRYDON (Detective Officer K). On 16th December, I was at Mr. Prike's house, and saw the prisoner there—she paid him a bad florin for some gin—he showed it to me, and she paid with a good half-crown, and took the florin back—I followed her through several streets, to the Green I Dragon, Stepney, where she called for gin, and tendered another florin—I asked the landlord, in her presence, to look at it; he did so, and found it I was good—I asked her for the bad one, and took it from her hand—I took her to the station—she said that she had some money given her by her husband—I fetched Mr. Prike, who refused to press the charge—I kept the florin some time, and afterwards destroyed it.
BENJAMIN ASH . I am an errand-boy to Dr. William Cringle, of 252, Mile End Road—on 3rd March, about 3 o'clock, a little girl, named Clark, came in for 2d. worth of jalap, and handed me a half-crown, done up in paper—I gave her the change, and she left—I laid the half-crown on the side-board, by itself, and it remained there till Mr. Williams, the assistant, came home, who said that it was bad.
Prisoner. Q. My girl says that you went out of the shop to get change for it? A. No, I took the change from the till.
DAVID JOHN WILLIAMS . I am assistant to Dr. Cringle—on 30th March, Ash gave me a bad half-crown—I gave it to the constable—on 28th March I served the girl, Sarah Elizabeth Clark, with 2d. worth of sulphur—she gave me a half-crown, done up in paper—I found it was bad, and broke it—she began to cry—I asked who gave it to her—she said her mother—I asked her if she remembered coming there a fortnight before, for some jalap, with another half-crown—she said "Yes" and that her mother gave it to her, wrapped in paper, with instructions not to open it till she went to the shop.
SARAH ELIZABETH CLARK . I am nine years old—my mother (the prisoner) gave me a half-crown, and I went to Dr. Cringle's shop—when I went the second time my mother gave me a half-crown, wrapped up in a piece of paper, to buy 2d. worth of milk of sulphur—she said "Don't you look at it till you get to the shop"—the little boy said "Stop there," and he went and got change, and gave it to me—I heard the little bay say that he did not go out—nobody has told me to say that he did.
ALEXANDER MACKAY (Policeman K 51). On the morning of 28th March the last witness was given into my charge—I took her to the station, and received these two half-crowns (produced) from Williams—I went to Eastnor Street, and took the prisoner—I asked her if she had a daughter named Sarah Elizabeth—she said "Yes "—I said "Where did you send her to?"—she said "To the doctor, for 2d. worth of milk of sulphur"—I said "She went there some time ago for jalap?"—she said "No, not for two months; at that time Dr. Cringle attended my baby, and it died "—I asked
her if she was aware that the money she gave her daughter was bad—she said "No; my husband changed a sovereign on Saturday night"—then she said, No, she thought he changed it—her husband then came in, and said that he changed it at the Grapes—she then said "I changed a half-sovereign; I cannot say where."
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "The half-crown I sent with my girl in February, he went out and changed it. I was sure it was good. I took it at a pawnbroker's."
Prisoner's Defence. I am quite innocent of it being bad. The other half-crown I am certain was good. I obtained it from the pawnbroker in the morning.
GUILTY — Eight Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAWFURD and MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM PENSION . I am a butcher, of 133, Cromer Street—on 6th March I saw the prisoner in my shop—my boy served him with a half-pound of beef sausages, which came to 2 1/2 d.—he paid with a half-crown—the boy called out "Change, take 2 1/2 d."—my wife took the half-crown, and said "I don't think it is a good one "—I tried it with my teeth, and found it was bad—I had never lost sight of it—as I had thrown two half-crowns into the fire previously, I said to the prisoner, "I have had enough of these," and gave him in charge with the half-crown.
JOHN CROCKER (Policeman E 112). On 6th March I was fetched to Mr. Pension's shop, and received the half-crown—the prisoner said he did not know it was bad; he took it at the London Docks, where he had been working—I found nothing on him—he was remanded to the 13th, and then discharged—he gave his name, Charles Wright.
ARTHUR DAWSON . I am barman at the Cranbourne Tavern, St. Martin's Lane—on 31st March, about 8.30, I served the prisoner with a glass of cooler, which came to 1 1/2 d.—he put down a bad shilling, and I gave him in charge—I had seen him there that afternoon, between 3 and 4 o'clock, in a different suit of clothes, when he gave me a shilling, and shortly afterwards a bad shilling was taken out of the till—there were other shillings there—I gave it to Mr. Silcock, who gave it to the constable, who broke it.
Prisoner. I was only in the shop once that day. Witness. I am sure you are the same person.
HENRY BULL (Policeman E 130). The prisoner was given into my charge—he said that the shilling was given him by his master, at 199, Blackfriars Road—I inquired there, but could not find his master—I received this other shilling from Mr. Silcock—I found a halfpenny and a purse on the prisoner.
ARTHUR DAWSON (Re-examined). My master has mislaid the other shilling—I, marked it—this is the shilling I received in the evening; it is broken—the other was not broken, so that I cannot make a mistake.
Prisoner's Defence. I am very sorry. I hope you will make it as light as you can. I had no work, and got mixed up with bad money.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, May 2nd, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. HARRIS and SHEIL conducted the Prosecution; and MR. ST.
AUBYN the Defence.
WILLIAM PALMER . I am Chief Inspector of the Detective Department—on the 25th January, about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, I went to 36, Bedfordbury, where a man named Pearce resided—he occupied two rooms on the first-floor—I saw Pearce, and after having some conversation with him I went into his room—I found the prisoner there, sitting at the table with a dirty white handkerchief in front of him, containing a quantity of chains, some of which I produce—he had hold of a chain, and at his side was this bottle of aqua fortis—he had the stopper in his right hand and was testing the chain as I went in—I said to him "Joe, I did not expect to find you here "—he said "Somebody has done this for me "—I told him to stand on one side, in a corner, and I then asked Pearce to account for this property—he said "Joe brought it here "—the prisoner said nothing to that—it was property which was afterwards inentified by Mr. Zucher—I searched the room and found a green baize bag full of cigars, and by the side of it was a carpet bag containing several cigar tubes and pipes—I asked Pearce to account for the possession of those—he said "Joe brought them "—the prisoner said nothing to that—the house is let out in tenements—the ground-floor is occupied as a greengrocer's, the back is a machinist's shop, which trade Pearce carried on—on searching further I found a large meerschaum pipe, twelve compasses, and a great variety of things—I sent for a constable, who took the prisoner away, and about ten minutes afterwards I heard that he had escaped—he was not apprehended till a fortnight ago—I then went to Bow Street and told him the charge—he said "Somebody has got this up for me, and very well"—he never gave any explanation where he got the articles from—I had seen the prisoner go into Pearce's house on the Monday, and also on the Tuesday previous to my going there—he had not anything with him that I saw.
Cross-examined. The prisoner does not lire there—he lives some quarter of a mile from there—I did not ask him whether he knew anything about the things—I addressed my conversation principally to Pearce—I did not ask the prisoner whether they belonged to him, nor did he say "Certainly not"—Pearce said that the bottle of aqua fortis which the prisoner was using was used by him, Pearce, in his business.
SOLOMON ZUCHER . I am a watch maker and jeweller at 26, King Street, Camden Town—I left my house en the morning of tip 27th January, perfectly safe—I returned about 11.20 at night—I found the street door open, and also the window, and a quantity of goods abstracted from it, watches, rings, and chains—these (produced) are a part of them—they are all mine—I can identify every one of these as having been safe in my house when I left it that morning—the goods stolen amounted to between 60l. and 70l.
WILLIAM SMITH (Policeman E 231). The prisoner was given into my custody on the 25th January, by Inspector Palmer—as I was taking him to Bow Street Station he gave a sudden jerk and made his escape at the bottom of James Street, Covent Garden—I made an effort to recapture him, but did not succeed.
WILLIAM WITHAM (Detective Officer Y). In January last I received a description of the prisoner from Palmer, and on the 18th April I went to 23, Caledonian Crescent, Caledonian Road, about 3 o'clock in the morning, in company with a sergeant in uniform—after getting admittance I went to the first-floor front room and knocked at the door—a female opened it—the sergeant turned his light on, and the prisoner was sitting on the bed—I said "Joe, I want you for that job in King Street, Camdon Town, in January last "—he said "That is what I expected; I should like to know who sent you here"—I said "No one, I believe I saw you on Saturday night in the Crescent, and I thought this was the house you came to, and from inquiries I made I found you were living here"—I took him to the Bow Street Station, where he was identified by Palmer.
GUILTY of Receiving**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS WREN . I am a painter, of 44, Queen Street, Brompton—on 18th April, at 1.30 in the morning, I was making my way home from the Royal Avenue, Chelsea; nearly opposite Keppel Street, I was attacked by three persons—they seized me by the throat, and threw me down, and rifled my right trowsers pocket, and took my watch and chain from my left hand waistcoat pocket—my coat was buttoned—they tore one button off in getting the coat open—I was very much hurt in my throat—I felt it for a week afterwards—I am better now, but my left thumb is still very bad—I lost three keys, a pocket knife, and about 8s. or 9s. in money—the prisoners are the two that were taken off of me—Ireland was taken off me, and the other ran away—I had not seen them before I was knocked down, they attacked me so suddenly—I halloaed out as soon as I could release their arms from my neck—a policeman came up directly—my forehead was injured—I had the skin knocked off—there is a slight soar now—that was in consequence of striking the ground—I could not tell who it was that knocked me down, but Ireland was on the top of me—I was a little the worse for drink.
Ireland. I had been along with him all the afternoon, drinking, at the Witherby's Arms, and he asked me to get a cab to go home with him? Witness. It is not so—I was not so drunk but I knew what I was about—I had not left him till 9 o'clock—I don't know exactly what I had been about since then—I had left my work at 8 o'clock.
DAVID CONNELL (Policeman B 366). About 1.30 on this night I heard cries of "Murder!" and "Police!" as I was at the bottom of Royal Avenue Terrace—I ran through a short square, and saw the prosecutor on the ground, and Ireland apparently rising from the top of him, and Whiting, when I got close to him—he jumped to his feet, and ran in an easterly direction—there was another man also who ran away in an opposite direction, and escaped—I secured Ireland, and handed him over to a constable—I pursued the third man for a considerable distance, but lost sight of him, and I then returned to see that the other two did not escape—I produce a watch and chain, which was picked up by Stagg, in my presence, 5 yards or 6 yards from where the prosecutor lay, and in the same line, that Whiting ran—the prosecutor was the worse for liquor—he was able to walk
to the station, put on his glasses, and sign the charge-sheet—on the way to the station Ireland said that he was along with the prosecutor, and was throws down by the other two, and that he was innocent—when the charge was preferred against him at the station, he said he had been in some house in Cremorne, drinking along with the prosecutor, and he was seeing him home—the prosecutor denied it, and said he had no recollection of ever seeing the man in his life before—Ireland was perfectly sober.
REUBEN STAFF (Policeman B 379). I heard a scuffle, and cries of "Murder!" and "Police!" on this night, in St. Leonard's Terrace—I ran up the centre of the road, and seeing Whiting running away I caught him in my arms, and ran him back to where the prosecutor was on the ground—I took charge of Ireland—the prosecutor got up, and said "I have lost my watch, chain, and money"—Connell pursued a third man, who escaped—he then came back—I heard something drop, and I asked Connell to turn his lamp on, which he did—we could not find anything there, but on going towards the station I found this watch and chain lying on the footway, 'near where I caught Whiting—Ireland then said it was Whiting who took the watch and chain, and it was him that dropped it—Whiting made no answer to that—I picked up a button, and a piece of watchglass also—Ireland said that he had been drinking with the prosecutor in the "Latimer" Arms, Chelsea—the prosecutor said "I know nothing about you."
Ireland's Defence. I was with the man all the night, drinking; he asked me to see him home, or I should not have been in his company, I am quite innocent of the job altogether, and know nothing about it.
Whiting's Defence. I was not in this lad's company; I did not know him; I had not seen him all the night; I was going to my lodging; I heard a cry, and ran away because I did not want to have anything to do with it.
NOT GUILTY .
JOHN TAYLOR . I am a solicitor, of 7, Gray's Inn Square—I have for the last four or five years been professionally engaged by Mr. J. Lisle, of Bonithron, in Cornwall—the defendant's father was a tenant of Mr. Lisle's—after his father's death the defendant became tenant from year to year—towards the end of 1869 sundry claims were preferred by him against Mr. Lisle and his three daughters—they were referred to me, as Mr. Lisle's solicitor, to settle—I corresponded with the defendant upon them—he was professionally represented by the London agent of his attorney in Cornwall—his wife is a dressmaker—there were claims for Dressmaking—those claims were settled by me, and I have the receipts, and, if necessary, can produce them—the defendant was in possession of the premises for a year and a half—he subsequently signed an agreement to give up possession of the premises, and a receipt in full of all demands upon the family of Mr. Lisle, and at that time I paid him 45l.—he was on that occasion represented by the London agent of Messrs. Hill, of Helston, and the agreement was witnessed by Mr. Spencer, the managing clerk—I subsequently sent a letter to the defendant, requesting him to give up possession according to this agreement—I received this letter (produced) in answer—it is in the prisoner's handwriting—(This letter was put in and read; it contained the
alleged libel, which, was a gross aspersion of the character of Miss Emily Ann Lisle, and an insinuation of an improper intimacy between her and himself)—I wrote a letter in answer, and afterwards saw Miss Lisle, and told her, in general terms, the contents of the letter, after I had heard there were reports in Cornwall, not before; I showed her the letter—in consequence of what I learnt in Cornwall, I came back to London, and applied at the Clerkenwell Police Court for a warrant—I did not take any unfair advantage of the prisoner; he expressed his satisfaction at what I had done—he did not act in any way under coercion, his own solicitor would prevent that—Miss Lisle has been on intimate terms with me and my family, and continues to be so.
Prisoner. Q. When did you first know me? A. I should think five years ago—I heard a very indifferent character of you at that time—Miss Lisle did not give at all a favourable one of you—she did not tell me what you had done for her—she did not tell me you had saved her from the union—she said you had bought the furniture for them, nothing else—they were living at Bonithron when I first knew you—they were not shut up in prison—the doors were not locked—there was not an execution against Miss Lisle—the doors were not shut for twelvemonths or two year, to my knowledge—I did not go down and pay off the execution—I did not take Miss Lisle to London—I paid you for the furniture, at 75, Guildford Street—Miss, Lisle was not living there with me; she was on a visit to Mrs. Taylor—I was living there with my wife and children, and Miss Lisle was on a visit with her father—she came up to London on account of an action—she stayed there, I think, about three months—she came up at my request—I think your demand was about 200l. for the furniture—I paid you what was settled between us—Miss Lisle received several letters from home while she was in London—she did not receive a letter to come home because there were reports that she was in the family-way, and had been confined in London—she was visiting my wife and daughters—she was also lodging with her father, in Norfolk Street—I never went there to see her but once—I think I paid you about 3001. for the furniture, I am not quite sure; the matter was gone into—I had great difficulty in getting any account from you—I told you that the Lisles were in great distress—you were very urgent for me to pay you the money you had advanced for the furniture, and I did so—I paid you what I believed was due, and got you to sign an account—I think the next payment was made to your wife, when I was at Bonithron; that was for dressmaking—I forget how much it was—I think it was 35l. on account—I did not wrong you out of 30l.—I paid your wife all she asked for.
Re-examined. I have a letter here, which I received from the prisoner while he was in custody—(Read: "Clerkenwell Police Court Sir,—Will you kindly withdraw the case against me? If not for me, for the sake of my family, not one of whom know where I am. You know my circumstances, and I am willing to make any apology in my power."
Prisoner. Q. Do you remember the quarrel we had about the money in the smoking-room, when I told you I had fed and clothed Emily Lisle for years? A. I think I told you to get out of the house—I did not believe you—the next time we settled accounts was when you came to London, and told me you were going to make a composition with your creditors—you had not the least trouble in getting me to settle, but I could not make out your accounts—you did not say you were obliged to make a composition on account of Mr. Lisle—I
paid you 45l. then—I settled all the accounts that you and your wife had against the Lisles—here is your receipt, in full of all demands—I had such difficulty in getting the accounts, that at last I refused to have any interview with you, and referred you to my managing clerk; an investigation was made between him and your solicitor, the amount was adjusted at 45l., and you signed it—I recollect giving you a letter, on behalf of Mr. Lisle, to the Lands Improvement Company, in Parliament Street, relating to 400l.—I said Mr. Lisle would have no objection to your receiving it out of that money; that had nothing to do with the claim against Mr. Lisle; you had done some work on the estate upon which the Lands Improvement Company were to make an advance, and you were to be paid out of that by the Commissioners—the receipt in full of all demands was not made with a view to get rid of that claim—I never intended it, nor would it affect your claim against the Company—I did not tell you that Mr. Lisle was not worth a shilling—I told you that all the money I advanced had come from my pocket—you have been over-paid, rather than underpaid—you expressed your satisfaction, and said this payment enabled you to pay the composition to your London creditors.
EMILY ANN LISLE . I am the daughter of Mr. John Lisle, of Bonithron, Cornwall—I have read the letter produced, signed "W. J. Dale," imputing certain things to me; there is not one word of truth in those insinuations—there has not been the least familiarity between myself and the prisoner.
Prisoner. Q. Do you remember when the bailiffs were in your house? A. No, they were not—there was a sale—I did not come to you one Saturday evening, in a dog-cart, and ask you to go to Helston, for Mr. Hill; he came, but not by your fetching him—I know nothing of any business transactions between you and my brother—I don't know that you offered to allow 300l., which he owed you, to stand over for twelve months, to pay off an execution—you bought things at the sale, but not at my request—I did not pay you for them—I was not able to do so—you did not tell me that there was an execution against my body—the doors were not closed for twelve months.
The prisoner, in a long, unconnected statement, asserted that he had received very harsh, ungrateful treatment from the Lisle family. When called upon to plead, he had declined to justify, and THE COURT ruled that, not having taken that course, he could not now go into the truth of the libel
GUILTY on Second Count — Nine Months' Imprisonment , and to find two sureties in 50l., to keep the peace for twelve months .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BROWN . I live at 20, Coleman Street—for some time past I have been carrying on business there, as a monetary agent, making advances on bills of sale—the prisoner was in my employ us clerk and appraiser—it was his duty, amongst other matters, to receive money on my behalf, and account to me for it—he was also in the habit of negociating advances on bills of sale for me—in March last, Mr. Muella was indebted to me 5l. s.—it was the prisoner's duty to collect that sum—this receipt is in his handwriting—(Read: "March 18, 1871. Received of Mr. Muella, 19l. 5s. instalment due 10th instant, G. Brown.")—at the back there is "March 10, 14l.; March 18, 5l. 5s.—that is the prisoner's writing—I am generally at the
office every day—I never saw him after the 20th—I waited a day or two to see whether he would come to the office—I then made inquiries about him, and ultimately, on the 27th, I went to his residence, at Holloway, with a policeman, and we found him at a public-house, adjoining his house—he was in a state of intoxication—the policeman took him into custody, in the parlour—I was waiting outside.
Prisoner. Q. On 18th March, did not I advise you of having received the five guineas of Mr. Muella? A. On the counterfoil of the receipt—I did not, to my knowledge, have a letter from you that day, saying that you had received the five guineas, but should not pay it in that day, being such a small sum—there is an entry of the amount on the counterfoil of the receipt-book, and in the register, but it is entered as 4l. 8s. instead of 5l. 5s.—I have not the counterfoil of the receipt-book with me—that it a book that I have access to—it is entered in the diary also as 4l. 8s.—I have not looked at the ledger—it is not here—you did not tell me at the station-house that you could account for it—I said I would have nothing to say to you.
TIMOTHY CRONIN (Policeman Y 62). I took the prisoner in custody on the 27th March—he was in a state of intoxication—I told him the charge against him was embezzling some money, the property of his master, Mr. Brown, of 20, Coleman Street, City—he said he could account for all the money he had received, with the exception of 10l.—I took him to the station, searched him, and found in his possession 2l. 17s. 11 1/2 d., a silver watch and chain, a gold ring, some keys, some postage stamps, and sundry other little things.
THE RECORDER was of opinion that there was no case for the Jury, at it appeared that the prisoner had distinctly accounted for the non-payment of the turn in question, and had entered it in the books.
NOT GUILTY .
There were other indictments against the prisoner, for which see Fourth Court, Wednesday.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. ST. AUBYN the Defence.
ANTHONY MEAD . I live at 6, Chichester Rents, Chancery Lane, and am a kiln man—on the 18th March I was in George Street, St. Giles'—at the corner of Church Street I received a blow across the temple with an iron bar—I looked at the prisoner and said "You villain, what did you do that for?"—and I no sooner said the words than I received a blow with a knife—the prisoner is the man—I swear to him—I had only the time I mentioned to look at him—the blow with the knife cut me through the lip—I lost my senses and was taken to the Gray's Inn Hospital—I attended there five days—I had 1l. 17s. 1d. in my right hand trowsers pocket, and in the other pocket a tobacco-box, a knife, and pockethankerchief—when I came to my senses I found I was in the hospital, and all my things gone—I saw the prisoner seven or eight days afterwards, at the bottom of George Street, with five others—I looked at him—he turned his back to the wall, and looked another way—I went across the road to a constable, and said "There is the man I want"—he said "You must be careful; it is a very serious charge"—I said I was positive he was the man, and I went and touched him on the shoulder, and said "I give this man in charge for assaulting me and cutting my forehead'—he said "You must be dreaming"—there were some other men with the prisoner at the time I was robbed—and one of the men
who went away then, I believe was the man that was with him at the time—there was a lamp near where I was robbed—that is how I identify the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I work very late, occasionally—I had been working from Wednesday morning at 8 o'clock up to about 10.20 at night—I was very tired—I had had something to drink—I had never seen the prisoner before, to my knowledge—I was walking quietly along when I received a violent blow on my forehead, and immediately I was down I received the stab in the mouth; and then my senses left me—it was about 11 o'clock at night—I was taken home before being taken to the hospital—I was not kept in the hospital for five days—after my wound was dressed I was taken home, and I attended at the hospital for five days afterwards—I believe I mentioned at the hospital about being robbed, but I don't know what I did say—I have since heard that the prisoner is a costermonger, and works in the neighbourhood where this took place.
FREDERICK PARKER (Policeman E 411). The prosecutor gave the prisoner into my custody for assaulting him and robbing him of 1l. 17s. 1d.—I told the prisoner the charge—he said "You must be dreaming"—I have seen the prisoner in that district.
Cross-examined. This was twelve days after the robbery—I know the prisoner to be a costermonger about that neighbourhood.
HENRY WILLIAMS . I was a police constable of the E division—on Sunday evening, 19th April, I saw the prosecutor between Chancery Lane and Great Turnstile—he was almost insensible from loss of blood, and was bleeding very much from a wound on the left temple—I took him to the hospital in a cab, and afterwards took him home—he fainted four times going home.
Cross-examined. He did not say anything to me in the cab as to what had been done to him—at the hospital he said he went into a public-house, the "Blue Posts," in Tottenham Court Road, and that he was struck there because he refused to pay for a quartern of rum; by two prostitutes—I made a report of that fact—he did not say anything about having been robbed.
Re-examined. He did not say that he was struck with anything—I noticed the Wound—it was a very severe one—it seemed like a bruise, and there was a hole right through his lip—he was not sensible at the time he made this statement—he was raving.
ANTHONY MEAD (Re-examined). I had been to the "Blue Posts"—that is where we get all the beer for the men at the shop—I never treated any women there—I had been in there seven times during the day for beer for the men—I had not quarrelled there with anybody—I did not go in there after I left work—I have no recollection of anything. I said at the hospital.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BUNKIN . I keep the "White Bear" public-house, in St. George's-in-the-East—on the night of 29th March, about 11.30, the prisoner came into my music room, which forms part of the public-house—he did not appear to be intoxicated—he stood a little while then—he then went over to some customers, spoke to one of them, and upset and broke a grog glass; that
was accidental—the waiter went up to him, and said "You have broke a glass, and spilt the gentleman's grog, and you will have to pay for it;" and I said "You ought to replace that gentleman's grog"—he said "No, we will ask him "—I went over with him to the gentleman, and he asked him whether he wished to have it replaced—he said "No, never mind about the grog"—the prisoner then got hold of a large pint glass, that had some lemonade and brandy in it, and smashed it on the table—I shoved him away to the other side of the room—he pulled off his coat—I and the potman made him put it on again, and I said "Now you will have to pay for the lot; I shall charge you 14d."—he said "No, I won't"—a party that the spoke to came over, and said "He has not got any money "—I said "Well, if he has not, he can't pay for it; but I hope I shall be paid tomorrow," and I left the room, and went down stairs to the bar; that was about 12 o'clock—I was serving there when all the customers came down from the room up stairs—I saw the prisoner sitting on a seat opposite the bar—he came over to me, and said "I say, old man, you will be sorry for this before 10 o'clock "—I said "For what? and he said "You know for what"—I said "Oh, that is nothing; you had better go home"—he went to the back place, came back again, and walked up stairs on the landing—I the potman called him down, and said "You must not go up stairs any more; it is all dark there "—he came down—I was inside the bar, leaning over the flap, and all at once he came flying at me, trying to get hold of my hair, to pull me over the counter—I believe I put my hand up, trying to prevent I him, and he got my thumb in his mouth, and then tried to fall down with it—the flap got open—I don't know whether I opened it, or he—I kept pulling away—he bad my thumb in his mouth, and all at once I got it loose, and the piece was off—the policeman has got the piece in a bottle—I I should say about half an inch of it was taken off—the customers directly pulled the prisoner away from me—he wanted to run away, but was stopped, and the policeman came, and took him in custody—I went to a doctor's, and have been under his treatment ever since.
WILLIAM PEARCE . I am a cabman, of 38, Bedford Row, Stepney—on the night of the 29th, a little after 12 o'clock, I was in the bar, and all at once I saw the prisoner jump up on the side of the bar, and make a rush at Mr. Bunkin—he endeavoured to get through the hatchway, and in protecting himself he put his hand up—the prisoner got his thumb in his mouth, and eventually Mr. Bunkin held his hand up with a piece bitten entirely off, and bleeding—the prisoner had been drinking, but was certainly very far from being drunk—he was not sober, but he was perfectly able to understand what he was about.
HENRY FORDHAM (Policeman H 197). I was called, and took the prisoner in custody for biting the publican's thumb off—all he said was "You b—sucker, I will tear your b—guts out"—I got the assistance of another constable, and took him in Ship Alley—he threw himself down, and said "I won't go; I will have the b—guts out of the b—sucker about. twelve foreigners came up, and we had to take him through the alley into Wellclose Square, backwards, till we got safe—he is a foreigner—he has been stopping at a Sailor's Home—he had been drinking a little, but knew what he was about.
Prisoner's Defence. I was rather tipsy, and did not know what I was saying or doing. I am very sorry I went there at all.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
378. THOMAS HILL (21) , to feloniously forging and uttering two orders for the payment of 15l. each, with intent to defraud.—He received a good character— Five Years' Penal Servitude. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
379. MARY ANN GLEESON (23) , to stealing one purse, and 12l. 18s. 6d., of Theodore Grabler, from his person, having been before convicted.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, May 2nd, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
380. FREDERICK BURTON (46), PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering bills of exchange for 69l. 2s. 6d., 100l., 150l., and 246l. 11s., with intent to defraud the Metropolitan Bank, Limited— He received a good character— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
381. WILLIAM JAMES RODD (40) , to three indictments for embezzling the sums of 3l. 15s. and 6l. 6s. 1d., 3l. 17s. 6d., 2l. 8s., and 2l. 8s. 2d., 2l. 11s. 6d., and 12s., of Messrs. Winter and Son, his masters.— Nine Months' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. LINGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BRINDLEY the Defence.
ELEANOR JANE TURMEAU . I am in the service of Mr. Pino, at 101, Blenheim Crescent, Notting Hill—the prisoner was in the same service—we did not sleep in the same room at the time she was confined, but we did on the Thursday afterwards—on the Wednesday before Good Friday I moved the prisoner's box to clean under it, on the floor, and found a stain of blood under it, which came from the bottom of the box—I cleaned the floor, and put the box on the bed, and when I moved it from the bed I saw two stains on the sheet—the smell continued—she had not told me she was in the family-way, but I had observed appearances of it—I do not know whether she had made any preparation for the birth.
Cross-examined. I usually clean the room—the smell was such that anybody would notice it.
Court. Q. Did you ever say anything to her about her appearance? A. No; I had noticed it since December—I said nothing to her about the box.
ROBERT JACKSON . I am a surgeon—on Good Friday morning, 7th April, I was sent for to the police-station, Notting Hill, to examine the prisoner—I found that she had been confined, probably three weeks before—I asked her to tell me about it—she said that she was taken ill the Sunday week before, at her master's house, Blenheim Crescent, and the baby was born at 7 o'clock in the morning, and she was not conscious of what was taking place, and found herself confined of a child; that she got up afterwards and put the body of the child into a box, and tied herself up and went about her work, and put the after-birth in the fire—I asked her if she had heard the child cry—she said "No"—I was directed to go to the house to examine the box, and saw the body of a large male child, in a tolerably advanced state of decomposition—I should say that it had been born three weeks before—my connexion with the case there terminated.
Cross-examined. She told me that she was confined the Sunday week before—decomposition is sometimes more rapid than at others, especially when shut up in a box—she did not say that she was sitting on the open box—the stains were not blood, they were the result of decomposition—she said that she was unconscious at the time—that is not at all unusual; if she had been suffering all night she was probably in a state of unconsciousness, it being her first child—she answered all my questions in a straightforward manner, without the slightest concealment.
LOUIS PINO . I live at 101, Blenheim Crescent—the prisoner was in my service eighteen months—on Thursday, 6th April, I received information from the father of my other servant, and next morning I went to the room where the prisoner slept, and told her I wanted to see her box—she made some difficulty about not being able to find the key—I said that I wanted to have the box opened, and she found the key and opened the box—there was a very bad smell; I did not ask any questions, but sent for Dr. Kemp—we then found the dead body of a male child—I sent for a constable, locked up the body in the room, and gave the key to him.
Cross-examined. I had not noticed the prisoner's appearance—I spoke to her because my wife did not like to do so.
HENRY PARKER (Policeman X 345). On Friday morning, April 7, I was sent for, and went to Mr. Pino's house—I found the prisoner standing at the doorway of her bed-room, and inside the room, in a box, lay the dead body of a male child; she was crying—I told her she would have to go to the police-station with me—she said that she could not deny that it was her child—I took her in custody, locked up the room containing the dead body, and sent for Surgeon Jackson.
Cross-examined. She was crying, and in great distress—she told me at once that it was her child; there was not the slightest concealment about the matter.
CHARLES PATRICE KEMP . I am a surgeon, of Clarendon Road—on Good Friday, I was sent for to Mr. Pino's, and saw the prisoner—she said nothing, but unlocked her box, in which I found a child in a state of decomposition—there were no external marks of violence—the cord had not been tied, it was torn off close to the navel—I should say the child had been dead about three weeks.
Cross-examined. It was born dead, it had never breathed—she at once opened the box for me—she seemed very much distressed.
COURT. Q. Did the lungs float? A. No, they had never been inflated, and therefore the child had never breathed; that is an infallible test.
GUILTY.—MR. BRINDLEY stated that the father of the child would marry the prisoner as soon as she regained her liberty—Judgment respited .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES ALEXANDER . I am assistant to Mr. Foster, who keeps a stall at the Sailors' Home, Whitechapel—on Saturday evening, 22nd April, the prisoner came there, and said that he was a boarder in a Sailors' Home, and had just returned from a voyage of eighteen months, in the Bard of Avon—believing his statement to be true, I served him with a suit of clothes, a muffler, and some collars, and ties, value altogether 2l. 17s. 6d.—my principal saw him the same night with the clothes on him, and his old coat over our new one—I gave him in charge.
CHARLES CHILDS (Policeman H 193). On Saturday night, 22nd April, the prisoner was given into my custody at the Wells Street Home—he had just pulled his coat off, and this muffler, and a box of ties and collars were in the coat which he was wearing—Mr. Alexander identified them—the prisoner said that he belonged to the Bard of Avon, lying in the London Docks; but afterwards he said "It is nothing of the sort; I was sent home from South America by the Consul, and came home in a steamboat"—the Bard of Aven is not in the port of London, and will not be for some time.
Prisoner's Defence. I only came into Southampton a few hours before; I was sent home by the English Consul; I had taken a glass or two, and have no recollection of it; I belong to the Bard of Avon, and am willing to pay for the things when she comes in, and to lay in prison till then.
GUILTY — Two Months' Imprisonment.
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
PHILIP KOSKI . I am the son of Joseph Koski, who keeps a clothier's shop, in Houndsditch—on 11th April, I was behind the counter, and saw the prisoner come into the shop, take a roll of cloth, and go out with it—my uncle and I followed him—he went under a van with the cloth on his shoulder—my uncle caught him by his collar—he threw the cloth down, and struck him—he was given in charge—this (produced) is the cloth.
JACOB KOSKI . I am the uncle of the last witness, and the prosecutor's brother—I saw the boy run out; I ran out, too, and saw the prisoner with the cloth on his shoulder—he went under a van—I gave him in custody.
MR. M. WILLIAMS stated that he could not resist this evidence.
PLEADED GUILTY.** Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES FINLAY BUTTER . I am assistant to Richard Morse, a watchmaker, of 8, Charing Cross—on the afternoon of 6th April the prisoner came in, and asked to look at a watch—I took a tray from the window, and showed him this silver watch (produced)—he wished to look at a silver hunting-watch, which was also in the window—I turned round to take another tray from the window, and saw him through the glass, going out—I ran after him—a policeman met him, and he threw the watch over his head—it is worth seven guineas—he was taken at the time.
THOMAS TROYMAN (Policeman A 486). On 6th April, about 3.20, I was at Charing Cross, and saw the prisoner pursued by Mr. Butter—I followed him a short way—he turned into Spring Gardens, by Dent's—I turned back, ran in the other way, and met him—when he saw me he threw the watch
over his head—I caught him—he asked to be let go, as it was the first time—he gave his address, 8, Crane Court—I went there, and saw his mother.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am guilty of stealing the watch at Charing Cross."
Prisoner's Defence. I was in great distress; I had been out of work some time. I beg for mercy.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES PIPER . I am a jeweller and watchmaker, of 59, King Street, Southwark—on 16th March, the prisoner came in and asked the price of a lever watch which was in the window—I gave it into his hand to look at—he said that he should like a cheaper one—I turned round to find him one, and he ran out of the shop with the lever watch—I am sure he is the man, he had been in the shop before—the pawnbroker showed me the watch last night.
WILLIAM DAY . I am shopman to Mr. Lawley, of 140, Tooley Street—I produce this watch—it was pawned on 16th March, in the name of John Brentford, but I did not take it in—pawn tickets are frequently given in other names.
Prisoner's Defence. I was convicted at Wandsworth (of obtaining enlistsment money by false pretences), and had one month; since then I have tried hard to get work, but could not If you will give me a fresh start, I will try to get my living.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, May 2nd, 1871.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
388. JOSEPH SMITH (29), and HENRY DIXON (24), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the church of St. Saviour's, Hackney, with intent to steal, having both been before convicted, Smith in January, 1869, and Dixon in May, 1869**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each. And
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED BALDWIN . I live at 6, Silver Street, Limehouse, and am a labourer—about 12.10 on the night of 19th April I saw the prisoner kicking at the door of 1, Nelson Court—the prosecutor came out, and pushed him away—they had a bit of a tussle, and the prisoner pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the groin—he fell down—I saw the knife in the prisoner's hand while they were tussling—the prisoner ran away—I followed him, and gave him in custody—he was not drunk—he was sober enough to run—he had had a little.
WILLIAM CONWAY . I am a sailor, and belong to the ship Supply, now lying off Black water—about 12.15 on this night I was in a house in Nelson Street—I heard some one knocking at the door—I opened it, and saw the prisoner—I told him to go away—I pushed him with my open hand, and said "Go away"—he had a knife, and he cut me in two places in the groin—I fell down—he ran away.
Prisoner. I did not run away, I went away gradually.
EDWARD VIALLS . I am house-surgeon at Poplar Hospital—Conway was brought there on 19th April, suffering from a wound in the right testicle—I it was cut about half through—the scrotum was cut, of course—there was also a wound in the right groin, about four inches long—they were both incised wounds, such as would be inflicted by a knife—they were dangerous on account of the bleeding—they bled profusely—he is almost well now.
DANIEL GILES (Sergeant K 49). I saw the prosecutor in Gill Street, bleeding—Baldwin gave the prisoner into my custody—I charged him, and he said he had not been near the place—I found no knife on him.
Prisoner's Defence. I did nothing to the man. He asked me what I was doing, and told me to go away, and I went away; and about an hour after the policeman came, and said "Some of you foreign men have stabbed a man, and I will take you in custody." I had no knife, and nothing on me.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
391. ALEXANDER TIDMARSH (14), ALFRED MCDAVITT (13) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Miriam Jacobs, and stealing there from thirty-two purses and other articles, her property.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. SHEIL defended McDavitt.
MIRIAM JACOBS . I live at 374, Essex Road, Islington—about 1 o'clock on the morning of 31st March I was called, and went down stairs—I found my shop broken open, and missed several things, such as purses, and rings, and chains—Tidmarsh has been in my service—it was his duty to keep the shop clean, and shut it up—it was shut up about 9.30 on the night of the 30th—the next morning I went next door, where Tidmarsh is also employed—I saw him there, and took him to my shop—he was asked what he knew about the place being broken into—first he denied knowing anything about it, but afterwards be admitted that he let in the other boy while he was shutting up, and that the other boy took the things.
FRANK BRIERS (Detective Officer R). I apprehended McDavitt about four days after the robbery—I told him he would be charged, with another, in breaking into Mrs. Jacobs' shop, and stealing purses and other articles—he said, "All right; Tidmarsh let me in, and I took the purses and things away"—he said that the servant came and turned the gas off close to where he was—he was lying under the window in the shop—he said he took the things to the house where he was lodging, and that he pushed the shutter down to admit the other one—I went to McDavitt's house, and found these two bags in the coal cellar—they contained purses, chains, spoons, and other things—I took Tidmarsh—he said he waited outside while McDavitt went in.
Cross-examined. The robbery was committed on 31st March, and I took McDavitt three or four days after; the Sunday after—I saw Mrs. Jacobs shortly after the robbery—Tidmarsh was making a rambling statement, and I told him to speak the truth—I found the bags in the house where McDavitt lives with his parents—there are thirtytwo purses in the bags, and brooches and chains, forks and spoons.
Cross-examined. I identify the purses—some of them are marked with my private mark, some are not—letters are my private mark—I have sold a quantity of these purses before.
five weeks ago I met Mc Davitt in Ockenden Road—he gave me some chains and rings, and I saw him give others away.
Tidmarsh, in hit defence, stated that McDavitt asked him to let him into the shop, and that as he was shutting up on this night, when his back was turned, McDavitt got in; that he saw his foot under the counter, but did not tell Mrs. Jacobs and he waited at the corner afterwards to see whether he came out; that he saw him come out, and he went home with McDavitt, and stopped at his house that night, and McDavitt gave him a shilling; that he had only known him three months; when he first saw him he asked how much the purses were.
GUILTY —Recommended to mercy on account of their youth— One Months' Imprisonment each, and five Years in a Reformatory.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS PARSES . I live at 73, Catherine Street, Poplar—I was one of the committee, and am now the secretary of the Friendly Brothers' Benefit Society—the prisoner was the paid secretary of the society for twelve years—the society provides sums for the burial of members, and an allowance to them when ill—any member becoming entitled to a grant by death or sickness, would have to give notice to the prisoner, as secretary, and he would inform the stewards in office; the stewards would see that all was right, and would obtain a cheque from the secretary, and pay it to the parties entitled to receive it—the prisoner would draw the cheque, and it would be presented to the treasurer, who would pay the money—it would be the prisoner's duty to make a duplicate on the counterfoil of the cheque-book, and also enter it in a book, and give an account at the next meeting—it was his duty to prepare and produce accounts of all the money passed through his hands—I produce the accountbook for 1870, kept by the prisoner, and also the balance-sheet he prepared and gave in last Christmas, for the year 1870—it is in his writing—there is no member of the society named Jones, nor was there any such member or steward in October last—there was no member or steward named Smith, or Thomas Fox, during the last year—there is an entry in the balance-sheet for the payment of the burial of Mrs. Yates, Mr. Forrest, and Mrs. Brown—according to the balance-sheet produced for 1870, there is 21l. on the general account, and 27l. on the funeral account—I also produce a list of the members, in the prisoner's writing—I have gone through them, and all the accounts.
Prisoner. Q. Do you know that the proceeds of these cheques ever came into my possession? A. I do not—I know you sign them; there is your name on them all—I will swear to that.
COURT. Q. Have you got the cheques? A. Yes—that is the one for Mrs. Yates—(Read: "5th July, 1870. Friendly Brothers' Benefit Society. Mr. Good, pay to Mr. Smith, 5l., funeral allowance, on account of Mrs. Yates, and place the same to the account of the Society. (Signed) J. Smith, Steward, and G. Manuel, Secretary.")—that is the prisoner's signature—I won't swear to the body of it, or that the name of the steward is his writing—that cheque was given to bury Mrs. Yates.
HENRY GOOD . I keep the "Three Compasses," Raven Road, Mile End, and I am treasurer of the Friendly Brothers' Benefit Society—the prisoner was the secretary—I never paid any money on cheques unless they were signed by the prisoner, as secretary—I paid that cheque of Mrs. Yates—it is in the prisoner's writing—it is the usual cheque.
Prisoner. Q. You have known me some years; have you ever known anything against my character previous to this transaction? A. No—this cheque of Mrs. Yates is drawn and signed by you, or else I should not have paid it.
SAKAH YATES . I live at 17, North Street, Bethnal Green, and am the wife of William Yates—we were members of the society till March, last twelvemonth, when we withdrew—I have never applied to the society for my burial, or for my husband's—my husband has been a member of the society for twenty-three years, and withdrew last March twelvemonth, and in July this cheque was drawn for my death.
Prisoner. Q. You have known me many years? A. Yes—I never knew anything against your character.
JOHN COOK (Policeman R). I took the prisoner into custody on 9th April, and charged him with forging orders on the Brothers' Benefit Society—I mentioned Mrs. Yates' name—he said "It is all through my wife; her bad habits and so on, have driven me to this."
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "Whatever I did was entirely through my wife. My neighbours give me a good character. I am sorry I am here."
Prisoner's Defence. This is the first time I ever appeared in such a position. These circumstances have fallen upon me on account of my trouble, and illness on the part of my wife and children. I trust that mercy may be extended to me.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
393. EDMUND BALLS (44), was indicted for that he being a member of a copartnership, trading under the style and title of the " Alliance Industrial and Provident Coal Society" did embezzle the sums of 1l. 1s., 1l. 7s., and 1l. 5s. 6d. the moneys of that co-partnership.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and
MEAD the Defence.
SARAH PITTS . In December last I was servant to Mr. Featherstone, at 5, Upper Grange Road, Bermondsey—on 5th December my master gave me 5s., and on 12th December, 5s., which I paid to the prisoner—he signed on this card on both those days.
ANN THORPE . I am the wife of Henry Thorpe, and live at 74, Long Lane, Bermondsey—we were in the habit of paying the prisoner weekly sums for coals—I have the card on which he initialled the payments—I paid him three several sums for the weeks ending December 5th, 12th, and 19th—he initialled the card on those days.
Cross-examined. I paid the prisoner weekly after I had the coals—I did not pay him for them when they were delivered; I paid him the next week.
prisoner—I paid him a shilling on each week ending the 5th, 12th, and 19th December—I produce the card with his initials for the payment.
WILLIAM SIMPSON . I produce the rules of the society, registered by Mr. Tidd Pratt, and a list of the shareholders—the prisoner was a shareholder, and he received dividends on his shares—I produce a bond of 28th December, 1868, signed by him, in which he says' that he will faithfully pay weekly to the society all moneys collected; and he did account weekly to the society—the moneys were paid into the Southwark Branch of the London and County Bank—he accounted for moneys on the 5th, 12th, and 19th December—but not for the amounts spoken to by the witnesses—he sent in weekly sheets—those sums are not accounted for in the weekly sheets of the 5th, 12th, and 19th December—on 10th February he supplied this sheet of figures to the company—he was called upon to give a return of his customers and their payments, and he gave in this account on 10th February, in which, he admits that the moneys of these different persons, or some of them, were not paid in by him—he never did account for a single sum of 2s., or one shilling during the whole time he was in the service—it was his duty to pay all he received into the bank weekly.
Cross-examined. I have not found him accounting for money he has not received—T have found several occasions where he has overpaid sums, and he has afterwards transferred them to another account—he has paid into the bank a larger sum than he has actually received, and on those occasions he has had the sums, so overpaid, transferred to the proper account.
Re-examined. That does not apply to the 5th, 12th, or 19th December—it did not happen on those weeks—it was only a question of a shilling now and then—it has not occurred of late—he has been more careful in. his accounts.
MR. M. WILLIAMS submitted that it was not competent for the prosecution to add together the different sums on the three Tuesdays in December, which were mentioned in the indictment and charge embezzlements of the aggregate received, viz.:—1l. 1s., 1l. 7s., and 1l. 5s. 6d. on the 5th, 12th, and 19th of that month; they could only prove three sums of 1s. or 5s., as the case might be, at the non accounting sums, and each receipt was a sum embezzled.
MR. BESLEY, for the prosecution, argued that the act of embezzlement was the non-payment of the aggregate amount concealed, and that three acts of embezzlement might include thirty different receipts.
THE COURT (after consulting the RECORDER) would not allow more than three sums received to be proved, as the RECORDER was of opinion that there could be no embezzlement of a general balance. As the statement of all the sums, thirty-one in number, which made up the three amounts in the Indictment must have prejudiced the prisoner with the Jury, THE COURT allowed the Indictment to be proved, as drawn, and reserved the question for the Court for the consideration of Court Cases Reserved, whether the Prosecution could rightly give evidence of the receipt of more than three sums. It was understood that no other point should be raised.
GUILTY —Remanded on Bail— Judgment Reserved.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. ROLLINGS defended Hunt. PETER WINSEY. I am a chemist, of 31, Langdale Street, St. George's—about 12 o'clock in the day, on the 10th April, I was going along Stepney Causeway—I had a florin in my hand, which I was going to put in my pocket—there were eight or ten lads standing on the pathway—they separated for me to pass through the middle of them—as I passed them Hunt put out his foot, struck me in the side, and knocked me against another one, who gate me a similar blow, and I was thrown down—Donovan took the florin out of my hand, and said "Come away!" and away they went—whilst I was getting up I was struck on the legs with something heavy, and hurt very much—I saw the two prisoners distinctly before they went away—there were seven or eight altogether—they ran away as I was getting up—I spoke to a policeman, and described them to him—I saw the two prisoners about seven minutes afterwards, and gave them in charge.
Cross-examined. This affair took place in a lane, between Brook Street and White Horse Street—there was a public-house near—I had passed that—I should say there were nine boys altogether, or from eight to ten—I did not count them—the prisoners were standing on the kerb; they were doing nothing—I saw them speaking together as I came up—they were not playing—I did not say any thing of the twirling anything round—the other boys were older than the prisoners—I should call them young men—I was knocked down by Hunt; he struck me in the ribs—Donovan was on the other side of me then—he knocked me again, and down I fell—Donovan took the florin from me—Hunt gave me the first blow, and that knocked me against the other—I did not full from the force of the blow given by Hunt, but he took up something very heavy, I don't know what it was, I think it was a brick, and threw it violently on my legs, and when I got up I could scarcely walk—I am sure I did not see Hunt twirling anything about—I had not been drinking that morning—I must not drink; I have an affection of the heart, which I have had for the last ten years.
Re-examined. The other six or seven persons there gave me no assistance—they were all violent to me, and I was very much ill-used.
GEORGE GOLDSMITH (Policeman R 492). On 10th April the prosecutor spoke to me in the Commercial Road East, near Stepney Causeway—I went with him to Brook Street—he gave me a description of the prisoners—he pointed out the two prisoners to me in Brook Street, and I took them in custody—they both said they knew nothing of the old man, and had never seen him—I found nothing on them.
Cross-examined. When the prosecutor came to me he said has had been, struck by some boys, and a 2s. piece taken from him, in Brook Street—he said there were eight or ten boys—I went with him, and I saw eight or ten boys in Brook Street then—they did not attempt to run away—I have made enquiries as to Hunt's character—I have been to Mr. Batchelor's, where he and his mother were employed, in Ratoliffe, and I have learnt that he has been a very good boy—his mother has been there for five years—the foreman of the works gave him a very good character, and he has been entrusted with as much as 25l. at a time—he was working there a day or two before he was taken—I did not know him by sight at all—the prosecutor said one boy had got a brown coat and a billycock hat, and the other had a white jacket and a black cap—he pointed them out, and went up and put his hand on them.
The Prisoners' statements before fly Magistrate:—Donovan says: "It is all false; a boy named Knight threw something, and hit him on the trowsers. He went away and fetched a constable." Hunt says: "I am innocent."
Witness for the Defence.
ELLIS KNIGHT . I am sixteen years old—I recollect the day when this affair happened—it was Easter Monday—about 12 o'clock in the day I was with Donovan and Hunt, and two or three more, near the "White Hart" public-house—we were playing—Hunt had a piece of wet worsted stocking—he hit me in the face with it—I picked it up again, and threw it at him—Mr. Winsey was passing by, and it hit him on the leg, somewhere about the shin—I begged his pardon, and took no notice, and walked straight on—about five minutes after, I went home, and when I came back I heard that the two prisoners were taken—I did not see Mr. Winsey knocked down—all I saw was the stocking thrown; it was meant to hit Hunt, and and it hit the prosecutor on the leg—it took place just outside the door of the White Hart.
Cross-examined. There was nothing in the stocking—it was only wet and dirty—there was no stone or brick in it—this happened about 11.30, as near as I can guess—it was past 11, and nearly 11.45, I should think—I have known the prisoners about six years, ever since I have been in the neighbourhood—they are companions of mine—the other boys who were there had nothing to do with throwing the stocking—they had nothing to do with chucking the thing about, only me and Hunt—when I left, I left the boys altogether—I went away about five minutes after I chucked the wet piece of stocking—I did not see any kicking or pushing, or snatching of the coin—I know Brook Street, it is only two or three minutes' walk from where this took place—I did not see any brick thrown—there was no brick in the stocking—Mrs. Hunt asked me to come here; she said I saw it all, and I was the boy that did it, and I ought to come and speak the truth—she did not tell me what I had to say—I did not go before the Magistrate, they were committed before I knew anything about it—I heard they were
taken on the same day—I did not go to the police-station and make any inquiry.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HOLLINGS conducted the Prosecution.
BENJAMIN BAKER . I am a clerk, and live at 3, Union Square, Union Road, Borough—on 5th April I was on Tower Hill—there was a crowd there of about 100 or 150 persons—a man was tied up with a rope, and was trying to untie himself—I went into the crowd—I saw the prisoner there—I heard something click at my side—I looked down and saw the prisoner with my watch in his hand; he passed it to his left side, and I caught hold of him—a policeman came up, and I gave him into custody—the watch was worth about 2l.
Prisoner. Q. Why did you not take the watch out of my hand? A. I had not time, you passed it down to your left side—I did not see anyone take it out of your hand, but there were several persons round close to you—I caught hold of you—you did not try to get away.
JAMES DILLHAM (City Policeman 700). I was on Tower Hill on 5th April, about 2.30 in the afternoon—there was a crowd there—I saw a rush amongst the crowd, and went up—I saw the last witness holding the prisoner, and he gave him into my charge for stealing his watch—the prisoner said "I have not got the watch, you can search me"—I took him to the station, and searched him—there was no property on him.
GUILTY .—He also PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted in July, 1869.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, May 3rd, 1871.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
396. HENRY ELLIS (41), and FREDERICK STUHMAR (61), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully conspiring, with others, to obtain a certificate of naturalization of one Catherina Alexandrina Tscherkersoff — Judgment respited until the trial of other defendants.
For other cases tried this day see Essex and Surrey Cases.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, May 3rd, 1871.
Before Mr. Justice Byles.
MR. HARRIS, for the Prosecution, stated that there could be some difficulty in proving the complete offence; and therefore if the prisoners would plead guilty to the attempt, he would offer no evidence upon the main charge; MESSRS. COOPER and BRINDLEY, who appeared for the defence, consenting to this course, the prisoners, in the hearing of the Jury, stated that they were guilty of the attempt, upon which the Jury found a verdict of GUILTY of the attempt.
GRANT*— Five Years Penal Servitude.
MAHONEY— Two Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. THOMAS and MOODY conducted the Prosecution,
GUILTY of the attempt — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. THOMAS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defence.
WILLIAM SCOLES . I keep the Railway Tavern, Hornsey—on the morning of 15th April, about 6.45, the prisoner came to my house—he was the first person I let in—I then went round the counter, and he asked me for a half-pint of beer, which I gave him, and he sat down—I knew he had been there previously, and I went about my business—after I had been there half an hour I said "You were here yesterday, have you seen the gentleman you were waiting for?"—after some conversation he stood at the counter, and kept his eye on me, watching me about—one or two customers came in, and I turned the key, and went backwards and forwards into the other room—near 8 o'clock I went into the room, and stooped down, putting two or three bits of wood under the kettle—the prisoner was watching me, I suppose, for he came gently behind me, and gave me some severe blows on the head with a weapon—I did not see it, but I thought it was a piece of iron—I did not fall—I felt as if I was losing my senses, but I recovered immediately, and saw his coat tail going out of the room—I had strength and presence of mind to pursue him—he was going out of the bar, and I called out, as loud as I could, "Stop him."
THOMAS MAJOR . I am a surgeon and physician, of Hornsey—on 15th April, about 8 o'clock, I was sent for to Mr. Scole's house, and found him suffering from two wounds, and a bruise on the back of his head, extending through the scalp to the skull—there was a third wound on his forehead also extending through the scalp—he was suffering a good deal from the shock, and from loss of blood, and was in a critical condition—any blunt heavy instrument would cause those wounds—very great violence must have been used—he was bleeding.
GEORGE BENNETT . I live at Hornsey, next door to Mr. Scoles—on 15th April I heard cries proceeding from Mr. Scoles—I tried to open his back door, but could not, as it was bolted—I opened the side door, went round to the front of the house, and saw the prisoner leave the house by the front door, and run down the steps—I saw Mr. Scoles come out close behind him, covered with blood—he asked me to follow him—I ran after the prisoner about 300 yards, and then saw Mr. Gray, a neighbour, coming up the road—I called to him to stop him—I felt exhausted, and seeing that Mr. Gray and Mr. Masters had got him, I went no further—I saw the prisoner distinctly, and never lost sight of him.
JOHN GRAY . I am a carpenter, of Hornsey—on the morning of 15th April, about 8.3, I saw the prisoner running towards the Railway Station—that is in an opposite direction from Mr. Scoles' house—I was meeting him—Mr. Bennett was chasing him, and halloaing "Stop him"—I took up the chase, and Masters, a railway porter, stopped him, and gave him into my hands—I took him back to the Railway Tavern, and kept him half an hour, till a constable came.
JAMES WALTON (Policeman N 198). On 15th April, about 8 o'clock a.m., I was called to the Railway Tavern, and the prisoner was there given into my custody—I searched him, and found this weapon (a life-preserver loaded with lead) in the waistband of his trowsers—I saw Mr. Scoles bleeding from his head; he was scarcely conscious of what was going on.
Cross-examined. I searched his pockets, but only found this ring and key (produced).
COURT to WILLIAM SCOLES. Q. He had only a half-pint of ale in your house, I understand? A. No—he was sober, I am quite sure of that—he paid for the half-pint of beer with a penny piece, and I think he had a biscuit also, for which he paid a penny.
GUILTY of doing grievous bodily harm, with intent to rob .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, May 3rd, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
DAVIS PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM HUTT (City Detective 795). On 19th April, from information I received, I watched Davis—I saw him about 6.45 in the evening, in Crutched Friars, with a hogshead of sugar in his van, which he had received from the Great Northern Railway Company's place—the van belonged to Matthew Orchard, a carman—I followed the van to the comer of Gray's Inn Road—he stopped there, and went into a public-house—he came out with two other men, and they all three got into the van, and went up Gray's Inn Road, and up Euston Road, till they got to Chapel Street, Paddington—on their way through Gray's Inn Road, Davis and one of the others got up on each side of the van, and looked round occasionally—the third man was under the tarpaulin, which was raised up, as if he was working underneath—the tarpaulin covered a cask of sugar—when they got to Chapel Street, they met Broom, with a trolley belonging to Peter Priestley—it is used for carrying hogsheads of sugar—Broom drew his trolley round behind the van, and Davis brought a bag out of the van, and put it on Broom's trolley, and Broom covered it up with a tarpaulin—after the bag was transferred, they went on to Praed Street, about 100 yards, with the van and the trolley—they went into a public-house there—Davis came out with one of the other men, and drove off—I followed Broom and the other man in the trolley, to the corner of Three Colts Lane, Cambridge Heath Road, Bethnal Green, where they stopped at a public-house—the other man went away—I went up to Broom, and said I should take him, for being concerned with others, in stealing a bag of sugar—he was not in sight of the trolley at that time—he said he knew nothing about it—I said "There is a bag of sugar on the trolley"—he said he knew nothing about it—I then drove the trolley to the Seething Lane police-station, and sent Broom in a cab, with two other constables—I took possession of the sugar—it weighed 1 cwt. 19lbs.—I afterwards went with another officer to Mr. Orchard, the carman's place, in George Yard, Whitechapel—Davis came there about 11.30 at night, and I took him in custody—I found this piece of tin in his van, and spoke to him about it—I have a sample of the sugar here (produced).
Cross-examined. When Broom came up with the trolley he had a conversation with Davis—I saw them talking together—Broom said before the
Magistrate, "I was stopped by two men and the prisoner Davis, and they put the bag on my trolley, and I was to meet the prisoner in Three Colt Lane, and before he came I was given into custody"—a trolley is a low flat vehicle, much lower than a waggon—I followed the trolley from Paddington to Bethnal Green, before I took Broom—it is a long distance, and he went a long way out of his way—they stopped at a public-house in Bethnal Green—they had stopped at one previously—I did not follow on foot—the sugar was in a bag on Broom's trolley—the bag was tied up.
STEPHEN HEARD . I am foreman in the sugar department of the West Kent Wharf, Montague Place, Southwark—on 19th April I delivered to the prisoner Davis two casks of sugar, to go to Mr. Orchard's van—we call them I tierces—I have the delivery note of the cask in question—that is the order on which I delivered the cask.
MATTHEW ORCHARD . I am a carman at 8, Sparrow Corner, near the Minories—on 19th April, about 7 o'clock in the evening, Davis was there with one of my vans—a tierce of sugar was put into it, which he was to take to Mr. Bell, a grocer, of Kensal Road—it was sound at that time—I had previously set Hutt to watch Davis—Hutt came back, and at 11 o'clock Davis came in—I saw the officer take that piece of tin out of the cart—it is what usually covers the bungholes of a cask of sugar.
JOSEPH HAINES . I am assistant to Mr. Bell, a grocer, of Kensal Green—on 19th April, about 9 o'clock in the evening, Davis brought a cask of sugar to us, in a very bad state—the head was nearly out, and we had to nail it up to get it into the shop—it had been knocked about a great deal—I weighed it next morning—it was the same quality as this sample—I found it deficient 1 cwt. 19lbs.—it ought to have been 13 cwt. 2 qr. 13lbs., and it was only 11 cwt. 10lbs.
Broom's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was stopped by two men and the prisoner Davis, and they put the bag on my trolley, and I was to meet the prisoner in Three Colt Lane, but before he came I was taken into custody."
Broom received a good character.— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH WHITE . The prisoner is my husband—we have four children—I have been obliged to leave him, on account of his cruelty—this is the third time he has been taken up—I live at Battersea—on 27th March, about 4 in the afternoon, I went to my sister-in-law's, at North End, Fulham—while I was there the prisoner came in—I sat in a chair, and he came by my side—he did not speak for a minute, and then he said "Well, Mrs. White, how are you?"—I said "I am quite well, thank you, and I hope you are the same"—he sat for a minute, and I said "I can't think why you follow me about like this; I am afraid to go out to go to work; I think at least you can manage to do for yourself, if I have to work to support the children"—he said "Let me look alt the baby," and put his arms out—I said "No, not with my consent; you have said that the child does not belong to you, but I know that I am the mother and you are the father; I want no more to do with you"—he said "I want you to come and live with me"—I said "Never," for I had suffered so much from, his
ill-treatment that I could put up with it no longer—my brother-in-law, John Bradshaw, then came in—I was sitting in a chair he was in the habit of using—I said "John, sit down here"—his sister got up, and said "And you come and sit here;" that was on the other side of the room—the prisoner had taken up a table knife from the table, and had been cutting his nails, and he laid the knife down again—I went to go over to my sister-in-law, and the prisoner put his arm round me, and I felt the knife go twice across my throat—I put my left hand up, and held the knife, and he drew it through my hand and cut these two fingers, and a piece of flesh off the thumb—I felt the knife against my throat again, and I put my right hand up, and he cut this finger through to the bone—I had fallen down—I struggled with him on the floor, and being over me, he stabbed me two or three times in the chest, but the steel of my stays saved my chest—my right hand was very much cut—my brother-in-law pulled him off me, and snatched the knife out of his hand, with the assistance of a young man.
Prisoner. It is all false.
MARY ANN BRADSHAW . I am the wife of John Bradshaw, and live at 17, Star Lane, North End, Fulham—I am the prisoner's sister—on 27th March the last witness was at my house, when her husband came in; she was sitting in my husband's arm chair—as she was crossing to sit by my side the prisoner pulled her back—I did not see him take the knife up, but I saw it in his hand—I had put it on the table—they both fell on the floor—I was so frightened that I did not see what he did, I only saw the blood as she laid on the floor—I said "Oh! he has done it," and ran out to get help—I have heard the prisoner say if she did not live with him he would certainly do for her—that was after he came out of prison the last time—he had three months—he came out in January—he asked me if I would see what I could do to get them to come together again, and he said "If she does not, I will do for her."
JOHN BRADSHAW . I am the husband of the last witness—I came home about 5.15, and found the prisoner and his wife at my house—I was going to sit down—my wife said "Sarah, you had better let John sit there," and her husband took a knife from the table, as she moved from the chair, and made two stabs on her chest—he got her round the neck—I closed with him—he got her down on the floor, and knelt on her chest—some young man came to the assistance, and we pulled the prisoner off—she was cut, and I thought he had done it effectually—I saw him draw the knife across her throat—he made the attempt to do so after the two stabs, and they both went down together on the floor—he did not say anything; it was all done momentarily—he caught hold of a bottle, and dashed it on her chest—he would have dashed her brains out—I took the knife out of his hand—there was blood on it—I wiped it off, and put it on the table again—it was afterwards given to the policeman.
REUBEN ASCOTT (Policeman T 420). On 27th March, I received information, and took the prisoner in the Richmond Road—his face was covered with blood—I asked him how he got the blood on him—he said he knew nothing about it—I asked him how he got the blood on his face, and he said that he did it down there—I said "Where?"—he said "In Star Lane, North End"—I took him to the house, and saw the wife—she said she hoped he would be taken away, so that she would never see him again—she said he had attempted to cut her throat—she was in a fainting state, and covered with blood—the prisoner made no reply—this knife was given
to me by Mary Ann Bradshaw—there are stains of blood on it, and the point of the knife is turned—the prisoner was not wounded.
EDWARD CHARLES BARNES . I am a surgeon, at Hammersmith—on 27th March, about 7 p.m., I was called to the police-station, and examined Mrs. White—on the left side of the cheek was a scratch about an inch long—on the right side of the neck, just below the ear, another smaller scratch—along the jaw-bone, from the angle of the jaw to the chin, were several small scratches—beginning at the middle of the neck, going down just above the breast bone, and extending down the left side was a scratch, 81/2 inches long—there was a scratch on the left fore arm—the left thumb was cut just below the joint, from side to side, so that it would be about three-quarters of an inch long, having a flap of about half an inch—the top of the forefinger of the left hand was slightly cut—the pulp of the middle finger was cut through from side to side—the right thumb was cut through obliquely to the bone, the whole length of the pulp—and the middle finger was cut through at the root to the bone, two-thirds round the circumference of the finger—there was great loss of blood from the cuts on the middle finger of the right hand and the thumb, but not from the neck, they were only scratches—in my opinion the wounds must have been caused by a knife—I can scarcely conceive that any other thing could have done it—the scratches on the neck might have been done by a pin or anything else—the end of this knife would produce similar scratches—the wounds on the hands were troublesome to heal—she was not under my charge afterwards—she called one day to show them, but I did not pay much attention—I referred her to the parish medical officer.
Prisoner's Defence. This will be the last time, if you will deal with me mercifully. I have not been able to work.
GUILTY on the Second Count — Five Years' Penal Servitude , and to find sureties to keep the Peace for twelve months afterwards .
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, May 3rd, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLOTTE ELIZA LAWSON RIDDELL . I am the wife of Joseph Hadley Riddell, an engineer, of 155, Cheapside—about 3.30 on Wednesday afternoon, 19th April, I was walking down the Poultry—the prisoner jostled me on my left-hand side—he then came in front of me, so as to block the path completely—suddenly he ran under the horses' heads across the Poultry—I put my hand in my pocket, and found my purse was gone—I had had it safe within a minute before—I ran after the prisoner—a policeofficer spoke to me, and asked if I had lost anything—I told him, and I saw him go up Cheapside after the prisoner—there was about 300l. in cheques, in the
purse, 10s. in silver, a railway ticket, and some memorandums—I gave a description of the man to the inspector at the station, and I afterwards picked him out, when he was placed amongst a number of others—I said at first I believed he was the man, but I should not like to swear to him; I did not see him in a good light, when I saw him in a good light I knew him, and said he was the man.
Prisoner. Q. You said at first that I stopped on the kerb for a minute after I took the purse? A. For a moment, I said—I did not look at you for about five minutes, and then say you were not the man that took my purse; I said you had a different hat on, and a different coat.
WILLIAM CHITTY (City Policeman 633). Between 3 and 4 o'clock on this afternoon, I was in the Poultry—I noticed the prisoner get in front of Mrs. Riddell, and hustle her—I ran across and spoke to her, and she told me of her loss—I ran in the direction the prisoner had gone, but could not see him—I am sure he is the person—I did not know him before—I afterwards identified him at the station.
HENRY HEARD (City Policeman 569). I took the prisoner into custody on Friday afternoon, 21st April, about 2 o'clock—I saw him going down Cheapside, following two ladies—I followed him into Walbrook—he then stopped, after seeing me—I went up to him, and said "What are you following those two ladies for?"—he said "I am not following any ladies "—I said "I think you are the man that stole the purse from a lady in the Poultry "—I had had a description of him—he said "If I had done that job, I would have had a new suit of clothes."
Prisoner's Defence. I am quite in the dark about it; I don't even know what day it happened.
GUILTY —He also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction, in September, 1870— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution.
REV. ARTHUR BARNARDISTON . I am a clergyman, residing at Metheringham, Lincolnshire—about December, last year, I had a quantity of hay for sale; I put an advertisement in the Stamford Mercury—I have not got a copy of it—on 3rd January I received this card (produced), in consequence of which I wrote to 38, Hart Street, Covent Garden; on 11th January I received this communication; I wrote again, and on 13th received this (produced); after that I sent 1 ton 7 cwt. of hay to Gregory Wilson & Co., 38, Hart Street, a sample truck—I also sent a communication respecting it—on the 19th I received this cheque.
WILLIAM ROBERT NORRIS . I am cashier and clerk at the Birkbeck Bank—I cannot recognize the prisoner—there is no one here from the bank who can—I can recognize her handwriting by the cheques; I cannot swear to her being the person who opened an account with us, but from my memory I should say she was—the account was opened on 2nd January, 1871, with a sum of 4l. 10s.—the handwriting in this book which I produce, which shows the opening of the account, is precisely the same as that on this cheque; they are written by the same hand—at the time she opened the account I gave her a cheque book of fifty cheques; this is one of those cheques—the account was never more than 4l. 15s.—we have had from fifteen to twenty cheques presented from time to time in the same handwriting, eleven of them have been dishonoured, and about five or six paid; the dishonoured
cheques amounted to about 90l., all in the same handwriting—the largest amount of the paid cheques was 2l. 10s.—a person of the name of Harris opened an account with us—I believe that was not the prisoner—we should not have allowed her to open accounts in two different names, if we knew it—the prisoner gave her address as 38, Hart Street, Covent Garden, and described herself as a potato saleswoman.
Prisoner. It was not me that opened the account—my husband sent me—I was ashamed to go in with so little money, and I got a young person who went with me to go in and do it; neither did I put my name to the cheque; it is not my writing at all. Witness. I should not like to swear that the prisoner is the person—I did not see her again till I saw her at Bow Street, last month—she was then in the dock—I did not pick her out from others.
REV. A. BARNARDISTON (continued). The cheque I received was dishonoured—I came up to London on 24th January, and on 25th went to 38, Hart Street—I found the place shut up—I went again next day, and then saw the prisoner—I did not show her the cheque—I asked her whether she was Mrs. Wilson—she said "Yes"—I asked her who Mr. Gregory was—she said her husband's name was Gregory Wilson—I asked who the Company was—she said she did not know; she had nothing whatever to do with her husband's business—I told her I had come respecting the hay which I had sent up to Gregory Wilson & Co.—she said she knew nothing whatever about the business, that her husband was out of town—I said the cheque had been dishonoured, and that as it was a cash transaction, I must take some means of getting my money—she said she knew nothing whatever about the business—I did not intend to part with my goods unless it was a cash transaction.
COURT. Q. Did you intend to part with them if you received a cheque in the name of Gregory Wilson & Co.? A. Yes.
MR. HARRIS. Q. Would you have parted with them if you had known it was a fictitious check? A. No, just as I was going away two gentlemen came up, and in consequence of what they said, I went to the police office.
THE RECORDER was of opinion that the identity of the prisoner and her handwriting was not sufficiently shown, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK LAKE . I live at Rodnersham, near Sitting bourne, and am a farmer—about the beginning of the year I advertised some potatoes for sale, in the South Eastern Gazette—I received a communication from 38, Hart Street, signed "Gregory Wilson & Co.," and on 21st February I tent a sample sack there—I received a letter in reply, and on the 25th, in consequence of that letter, I sent fifty sacks of potatoes—I also sent twentyseven sacks, in consequence of instructions from the same place, to a Mr. Woodgate, of Penge—I should not have parted with my potatoes, except on the understanding that I was to have cash—I have not received a penny from Gregory Wilson & Co.—I came to London on 9th March, and went to 38, Hart Street—the place was locked up—I did not see the prisoner at all till I saw her at Bow Street—in consequence of information I went to a Mr. Peart, a salesman, in the Borough, and there found thirty-eight sacks of my potatoes—I got them taken away, in consequence of instructions I had from
the Magistrate at Bow Street—those are the only ones I have had any renumeration for; the others I have entirely lost.
THE RECORDER held that without the production of the letter (which, there had been no notice to produce) the case must fail, there being no evidence to show the terms of sale.
NOT GUILTY .
There were other indictments against the prisoner, which were postponed until the next Session.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BROWN . I have an office at 20, Coleman Street—I reside at Epping—in the early part of last year I had made some advances to a person named Feist—the prisoner came to me with another person, about October or November last year, and entered into a conversation in reference to Feist—in consequence of that I took him into my employment as clerk—he told me that Mr. Feist, to whom I was advancing money, was forging bills of sale; that most of the bills of sale were fictitious, and that no one knew about them but Feist and himself; and unless I took him out of Mr. Feist's hands, and employed him, and took an office myself, I should lose all my money—he was in Feist's service at that time—Feist has since paid me every farthing, but at that time I believed the prisoner's statement—I gave him 2l. a week, and took an office in Coleman Street, where he acted for me as clerk and appraiser—I took out an appraiser's licence for him—he recommended persons to me to whom advances were to be made, and prepared the bills of sale—I placed entire confidence in him—I was very little at the office myself—about the 2nd February I remember his making a representation to me about a Mr. Dyer—he said that Mr. Dyer lived at the address on the bill of sale, that it was a very nice house, and very good furniture, that the man was very respectable, that he had made every inquiry; and had been to Perry's private inquiry office, and ascertained that he was a man in good position, and I was quite safe in letting him have the money—he said he had seen Mr. Dyer, had taken an inventory of the furniture, and that was a correct copy of it—he showed me this bill of sale (produced), and gave it me as a registered bill of sale: (This was dated 2nd February, signed by John Dyer, of. 18, Wilton Place, St. John's Wood, civil engineer, and contained a long list of articles of furniture.)—This is in the defendant's writing—also the attestation to Dyer's signature—at the bottom there is a signature to a receipt of Dyer's, for 50l., witnessed by Barrell—I gave him a cheque for 60l., payable to Dyer—that was on the faith of the representation that he made to me as to the respectability of the house; having seen Dyer and the matters contained in the bill of sale—I believed that Dyer was in existence, and his furniture also—I believe the endorsement on this cheque to be the prisoner's writing—I also saw him in reference to a bill of sale of a person named Charles James Dixen, of 288, Essex Road—that was on the 10th February—he said an advance of 50l. was wanted, that he was a respectable man; that he had made inquiries at Perry's office, that he had taken an inventory of the furniture, and that it was well worth the money, and that I could not be wrong in lending it—he said he had been to 288, Essex Road, had seen Mr. Dixon, and taken this inventory (produced)—he also gave me this as a
registered bill of sale—(This was dated 10th February, purporting to be signed by Dixon, and witnessed by Barrell.) I gave him a cheque for the money, on the faith of the representations he made to me—I produce my petty cash-book—it is in the prisoner's writing—on the 8th February he charges me 6s. for registering Dyer's bill of sale, and on 25th February, 6s. for registering Dixon's—at the back of one bill of sole I see stamped 2s. 6d., and on the other 1s. 6d.—both the cheques I gave him have been returned through my bankers, as paid—he continued at my office till Saturday, 18th March, and then left without notice—I never saw him again till he was in custody—I made inquiries about him, and ultimately found him at a public-house, at the corner of the street he lived in.
Prisoner. Q. You say that while I was in the service of Mr. Feist I called on you with another person; where did I call on you? A. I say you spoke to me in Mr. Feist's office—if I said you called on me, it was a mistake—you suggested leaving Mr. Feist—I did not tell Mr. Feist that I had lost all confidence in him—I have asked you questions about him—you have gone out of the office with me—I have never met you otherwise—the arrangement was that I should give you 2l. a week; and you said that was double the wages you ever had in your life—it was not arranged that I should see all the parties before I advanced the money—I swear that—I cannot mention any person that I advanced money to, whom I did not see—I charge 6d. per pound per month interest, nothing else except the expenses for the bill of sale—you generally arranged about the expenses—I have seen some of the parties, but I did not see them as a matter of course—I negotiated some of the advances myself, but I always called you hi for advice—I can't recollect seeing Mr. Dyer at all—I don't recollect seeing a person in the office and telling him to pay attention to the statutory declaration, as if he committed himself then it would be a case of perjury—I have told parties to be very careful in reading documents over before signing them—Mr. Dyer's 60l. is entered in the book—I always gave the cheques to you—I never gave them to anyone else—I have given them to you sometimes in the presence of the parties—you told me you had been to Perry's—you said you could find nothing about Dyer, and that was a sign he was all right—that was on the 1st February—you always returned to me after the money was advanced, in a reasonable time, and paid me the bonus I was entitled to—you always went with the party to cash the cheque, for some reason of your own—you had to take the party to a commissioner to make the statutory declaration—sometimes the parties paid the bonus down—I can swear that I never saw Dixon, to my knowledge—I might pass through the office while half a dozen persons were there, but I never spoke to a Mr. Dixon, to my knowledge—I have no doubt the bonus in Dixon's case was 8l.—I did not tell anyone to call on your wife and advise you to plead guilty, and say I would be merciful—before you were taken into custody I said that if you would assist me in putting my affairs to rights, I would forgive you.
EMILY LLOYD . I live at 20, Wilton Place, St. John's Road—No. 18 is my property—I let it out in furnished lodgings—in the early part of February I let two rooms to a woman of the name of Dyer—I don't know whether it was on the 15th—she remained there three days, and never came back—I have never had a person of the name of John Dyer lodging there—the furniture in the house is mine—the furniture enumerated in the schedule of this bill of sale does not represent my furniture—I never authorized the
prisoner to take an inventory of it—about a fortnight after Mrs. Dyer left, the prisoner came to No. 18—I did not see him then—my daughter opened the door to him—I saw him afterwards—he asked for Mr. Dyer—I said there was no Mr. Dyer ever lived there—he then asked for Mrs. Dyer—I said she had left the house, after staying there three days and two nights.
Prisoner. Q. Do you recollect what I said when you said there was no Mr. Dyer living there? A. You seemed very much surprised at it, and put out about it—you asked me if the furniture in the house was mine, and I said "Certainly," and you said Mrs. Dyer had had 60l. upon it—you told me you had been there on the 5th February, and taken an inventory, and been into every room, and that you saw some lodgers up stairs, and in the parlour—you said your employer had advanced 60l. to a Mr. Dyer on the morning you called.
COURT. Q. You say that is not a correct account of the furniture? A. No; there are a lot of things there that I had not got—I have no damask furniture, or looking-glass, or any music in the house all the time I was there.
ISABELLA PRICE . In February, or March last, I lived at 18, Wilton Place—I remember a Miss Dyer coming to live there—I did not see any inventory taken of the furniture while she was there—I had the parlours—I saw a Mr. Dyer there, an old gentleman that she called her dad—I was only in her room once for about ten minutes—Mr. Dyer might have been half an hour there, or three-quarters, I could not swear—I had my rooms of Mrs. Lloyd, furnished—no inventory was taken of the furniture in my rooms.
Prisoner. Q. You remember my calling? A. I certainly do; a fortnight after Mrs. Dyer left—you said you had been there to take an inventory, but I had not seen you—I was asleep in an easy chair when you came—you said that you had advanced 60l. to Mr. Dyer, and you seemed rather surprised when I told you no Mr. Dyer lived there.
EDWARD WILLIAM ROGERS . I live at Norfolk House, Arundel Square, Barusbury—my mother is the owner of 288, Essex Road, Islington—no person named Dixon was living there in January, February, or March last—the last tenant was not a satisfactory one, named Glover—he went away on the night of 25th March, after clearing the house of the furniture, bell-handles, and everything—he was there from December to March—he had taken the house for three years—he furnished it himself—I was never in the house while he was there.
TIMOTHY CRONIN (Policeman Y 62). I took the prisoner into custody at a public-house in Holloway—he was not sober—I told him what he was charged with, and brought him to Moor Lane Station—he made a statement to me about another matter, but said nothing about the bills of sale.
JOHN BREWER . I am a clerk in the Registry Office of bills of sale—I have not referred to the register in reference to these two bills of sale—it is for the public to search the books—it is not my business to do so.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that the two transactions in question were bond fide, and that Dyer was introduced by a person of the name of Weston, and that both Dixon and Dyer were seen by Mr. Brown before the money was advanced.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. THORNE COLE the Defence.
HEPHZIBAH BATTERSBY . I am the prisoner's wife—I was living with him at 257, Bethnal Green Road, on Sunday, 19th March—he had been very strange indeed, in the way he was going on that morning; talking very strangely—about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I was passing out of the side door, and he caught hold of me by the hair, and struck me on my back—it knocked me on my knees—we struggled together—some minutes afterwards I saw that he had a small knife in his hand—he struck me with it on the head several times—I suppose it must have been the knife that struck me on the back, but I did not see it—after some minutes, someone came in, and took me away to the doctor's—I had some wounds on the head, not very bad ones; they were very slight—I can't recollect whether they bled much—this (produced) is the knife—it is one he uses in his business—he is a clog maker—he seemed to be very much troubled in his mind at this time—he has always been very kind to me and to his children, when sober—we have had a deal of trouble through losses in business, of late, and that has preyed very much on his mind, and he has given way to drink, through depression of trade and losses in our family; before that we were always very comfortable—it was not my wish to prosecute—we have three children.
Cross-examined. We have been married eleven years, and during that time his conduct has been very good towards me—after drinking, he suffers very badly from his head—the whole of Saturday night and Sunday morning he was not at all in his senses—he had been drinking excessively for a fortnight.
GEORGE MALFERSON . I am a wheelwright, of 155, Dorset Street—on this Sunday afternoon I heard screams of "Murder!"—I went to the door of the prisoner's room, and heard a struggling going on inside—I went in, and saw the prisoner and his wife in the parlour; they were then standing up, and struggling—I saw her go towards the door, and slip down, and the prisoner fell on the top of her—I dragged her away, and I and another young chap took this knife from the prisoner—the prosecutrix was bleeding, and her hair was all down—the prisoner seemed sober to me, but very much excited.
JOSHUA BURGESS . I am divisional surgeon of police in this district—on this Sunday afternoon Mrs. Battersby was brought to my surgery—her face and hair were covered with blood, and her clothes also; she was very faint—she had four scalp wounds; they were to the skull, to the bone, and there were a large number of smaller wounds—I can't say that either of the scalp wounds were dangerous in themselves, unless erysipelas had set in—there were two deep wounds penetrating to the left bladebone, upwards—on the head and shoulders she had fifteen wounds, besides those on her hands—she appeared to have been struggling with her hands; in fact, she saved her life by means of her hands—they were wounds that might have been inflicted by such a knife as this—they were about an inch deep, and about an inch wide—I saw the prisoner at the Court, on the Monday—at that timo he was mad—I think it was not the madness of delirium tremens; some persons call it so, and most do so when it occurs from drink; but the man was as mad as possible when I saw him on the Monday—I did not see him on the Sunday—it was a temporary madness—I can't say whether he is liable to a recurrence of it; if he exposes himself to the same exciting cause, he is very likely to have it again; but I think not without.
Cross-examined. Where a person has been drinking for some time, and gets into the condition called delirium tremens, all sorts of fancies and imaginations may take possession of the mind, justas if he were actually mad.
DENNIS REGAN (Policeman K 464). I was called to the house on the Sunday, and saw the prisoner—his hands were covered with blood—he was being held down on the ground, and was in a very excited state—I took him to the station, with Causton's assistance—he went quietly.
WALTER CAUSTON (Policeman K 320). I assisted in taking the prisoner to the station—when there he made this statement to me, "Saturday night was very bad for my trade, and the money I received I put in my stocking, under my pillow. I went down next morning, and forgot it; about 1 o'clock I felt in my pocket, and could not find any money; I asked my wife for some money. I should have murdered her if she had not called out about her children"—He was a little excited, but at the time he said that to me he did not seem excited, because he had eaten a good dinner—that was on the Sunday.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.
A Witness, who had known him six years, deposed to his good character as a quiet, respectable, inoffensive man— Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
CHARLES KELLAND . I am a surgeon, of the Barking Road—I saw the deceased on 7th April, the day after the occurrence—he was in a comatose condition, totally insensible, and breathed stertoriously—he was sinking fast—I saw him three times during the day, and he gradually sank and died—on 11th April I made a post-mortem examination of the body—there was a fracture of the skull, with great extravasation of blood, from the effects of the fracture, between the cranium and the skull—the brain was very highly congested, and I attributed that to the effects of recent drunkenness—in my opinion, looking at the appearance of deceased generally, he was in a helpless condition, from the effects of intoxicating drink, at the time he fell—I think he was in liquor, because the bladder was much distended at the time.
COURT. Q. To what do you attribute death? A. To the fracture of the skull, undoubtedly; congestion already existed—the fracture of the skull and the highly congested state of the brain caused the death.
Cross-examined. The skull was fractured nt the base—it was much thinner than we ordinarily expect to find it—the injury at the back would arise from a fall—I cannot say how long congestion of the brain had been going on—I should say the deceased had been accustomed to drink—I think so from the state of the bladder—irrespective of the condition of the brain, the fracture would have caused death; there was not congestion enough to do that.
COURT. Q. You say that the brain was highly congested; that the fracture of the skull was caused by a fall; that extravasation of blood set in; and that that, added to the congestion of the brain, caused death? A. That
is my meaning—there was a congested appearance on the left cheek as if caused by a blow.
WILLIAM HIGGINS . I am a labourer—on Thursday, 6th April, about 11.15 at night, I was walking up the North Woolwich Road, at West Ham, and when near to the Royal Sovereign public-house, I saw the prisoner and the deceased talking loudly on the pavement, but what it was about I could not tell—I saw the prisoner hit the deceased in the face, and he fell—the prisoner stooped to pick him up—in consequence of what I saw I fetched a policeman, and on my return the prisoner was helping to carry the deceased to his home—the deceased never spoke or moved, as far as I am aware, after he was struck.
Cross-examined. I was six or seven yards from them when I heard them talking—I didn't think they were quarrelling before I got up—I heard prisoner say, after he had struck the deceased, that he was sorry for it, as they were mates—my impression was that the blow caught deceased's face—I did not see the prisoner try to restrain him—they were both strangers to me.
HENRY HOBBARD . I am a bricklayer, of 8, Denmark Street, West Ham—I was in the North Woolwich Road, and saw the prisoner and the deceased opposite to the Royal Sovereign public-house—I saw the prisoner's hand go into Willis's face, and he fell back heavily—I cannot say whether the blow was struck with his fist or his hand—I ran to Mr. Kelland's surgery, and when I returned the prisoner had hold of the deceased, and was trying to lift him up—Wells never moved or spoke afterwards.
Cross-examined. I did not hear anything said before the blow was struck—I cannot say whether the prisoner was drunk, but he seemed to be greatly agitated at the time.
JOHN WILSON (Police Sergeant). I am stationed at Plaistow—about 2.45 in the afternoon I apprehended the prisoner, at the Walmer Castle, Plaistow—I told him he was charged with assaulting a man named Willis, who was then lying in an insensible state, at 13, Stratford Street—he said "I did not assault him; I met him in the road, and we had a few words about my striking his son; I could not get away from him; I gave him a shove, and he fell on the pavement; I assisted him home; I am sorry for what I have done"—I then took him to the police-station, and he said nothing more.
Witnesses for the Defence.
HENRY JOHNSON . I am a fishmonger, at 47, North Woolwich Road, two doors from the Royal Sovereign, public-house—I saw the prisoner and the deceased quarrelling for about fifteen or twenty minutes—they stood about five yards from my shop—the deceased wanted to fight the prisoner, and was throwing his fists about—the prisoner tried to go away twice, and the second time he patted the deceased with his open hand on the cheek, and Willis slipped off the kerb, and fell in the gutter, with his head on the pavement—it was an open-handed blow, and very slight, and in my opinion was given in self-defence.
Cross-examined. Willis looked as if he had been drinking.
ALFRED STREATHAM . I am a labourer, and live at 26, Hannah Street, Plaistow—I saw the prisoner and the deceased quarrelling, and heard Willis say that the prisoner had been hugging some iron on his son's leg, and that either he or his son should fight him in the morning—he said that his son was as good a man as the prisoner was, and should fight him—
the prisoner said that he did not wish to have any quarrel, and asked him to go home, as he would think better of it in the morning—Willis then pulled his coat half off to fight him, and prisoner told him to put it on again—then he endeavoured three or four times to use his fist, but the prisoner prevented him, saying that he did not wish anything of the sort—deceased fell close to my feet.
Cross-examined. I saw the blow struck—the deceased, I should say, was very drunk—they were both strangers to me.
COURT. Q. How did the prisoner strike him? A. With his open hand—it was a slight touch on the face—the prisoner wanted to get away, but the deceased would not let him go—he turned his back upon him three or four times, but Willis stopped him on each occasion, and shoved his fist in his face, as if he wanted to make him fight—the prisoner then took his pipe from his mouth, and gave him a slight smack—the deceased, who had wriggled about as if heavy with drink, slipped off the kerb, and fell—they were both strangers to me.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BOTTOMLEY the Defence.
WILLIAM BLEACH . I am staff sergeant of pensioners at Woolwich—it is part of my duty to pay the reserve force for that district, when their money is due—the men who are entitled to their money have to appear before me in person to claim it—on Tuesday, 4th April, the prisoner presented himself at the Pension Office at Woolwich Dock Yard, and answered to the name of William Lock—I called the name of William Lock, and he stood forward and answered to it—I asked him if he was William Lock, and he replied "Yes, sir"—I told him there was an order to arrest him, and I handed him over to a policeman—when before the Magistrate he said he was not William Lock, that his name was John Thomas, and that he had been sent by a man with a black-eye to draw this money, and he was to get 1l. 10s. 4d.—he said he had not been in the service—I had asked him what regiment he belonged to, and he said the 95th.
Cross-examined. I thought at the time that he was Lock—I did not know the man, but I had an order to arrest Lock if he appeared, and that was why I asked him if he was Lock—it was at the same time that I asked him about his regiment—I did not tell him what he was arrested for—it was for enrolling himself in two separate divisions, to obtain two bounties—it was from two to three hours after that he told me he was not Lock.
Re-examined. Lock is a man about 3ft. 9in.
HENRY ANDREWS (Policeman). I took the prisoner into custody on the 4th April—he was charged with attempting to defraud the Army Reserve of 1l. 10s. 4d., by falsely representing himself as William Lock, of the 95th Regiment—he said he was not William Lock, that he was sent in by a man to answer to the name of William Lock, and to receive 1l. 10s. 4d.
Cross-examined. He said that the man that sent him had a black eye, and, had met him in Church Street, Woolwich.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BEASLET the Defence.
CHARLES WOOD . I am a boiler-maker and greengrocer, at 27, Stanley Terrace, Deptford—on Saturday night, 25th March, about 9 o'clock, I was standing at my shop-door, near the Merry Cricketers public-house, and saw the prisoner and the deceased having words, and in the act of fighting—old Mr. Woolnough had his coat on his arm—they both seemed to have been drinking—there was a police-constable between them, and Woolnough made a blow at the prisoner, and struck him about the face and chest—it seemed to be a slight blow, I cannot say exactly where—the policeman separated them, and asked Woolnough to go home—he said that he would—he turned round, and had got about ten yards, when the prisoner rushed by the policeman, and made a blow at Woolnough, and knocked him down in the road, close against the kerb, and fell on him—the prisoner then got up, and I went and picked Woolnough up—he seemed to be a little bit stunned, or stupified—he complained of being hurt.
Cross-examined. I did not see the deceased fall against the door-post of the Merry Cricketers as he came out—I heard them quarrelling, but could not hear the words—I did not hear Woolnough say "I will fetch my son to you, or I will fight you myself"—I did not see him pull his coat off, it was on his arm when I first saw him—I did not see him give the prisoner three blows in his chest and stomach, and say "Now hit me"—I did not hear him ask the landlord to hold his coat, or say that he would fight half-a-dozen as good as the prisoner—I did not hear him say "Will no one hold my coat?"—the policeman was between the two when I first saw them—Woolnough did not go round behind the officer to strike the prisoner—I saw him strike him, and the officer slightly stopped the blow—I did not see Woolnough make a false step, and come to the ground—I think I was about two yards from him when he fell—the officer was just alongside of me—I did not see the prisoner put out both his hands to save Woolnough from falling—it was a rush and a blow that be gave him—I took Woolnough home, and gave him in custody of his wife and a daughter or two at the door—they took him inside, and I heard a heavy fall on the floor—I looked through the window, and saw him on the floor—I concluded he had fallen—he had been drinking, but he could walk straight enough with me—I have never seen him drunk in my life—he seemed to be a strong man—I believe he was about fifty years of age.
Re-examined. I should say about five minutes elapsed between the time of the last blow being struck and the time the prisoner knocked him down—they were still haggling together all that time—as soon as Woolnough. saw the prisoner coming up to him he seemed to put himself in an attitude to prevent him.
EDWARD GLADWELL (Policeman R 281). I was on duty in Deptford Road, and saw a number of people gathered together by the Merry Cricketers—I went up, and saw the deceased standing stripped to his shirt sleeves, with his coat on his arm—I persuaded him to put it on and go home—he refused to do so—he got close to the prisoner, and I got between them to prevent any blow—I thought they were coming to blows—the deceased struck the prisoner over me in the face—it would have been a
sharp blow, but I prevented it—he did hit him slightly—I held the prisoner about a second or two—the deceased went about ten yards from him on the kerb—the prisoner then rushed from the back of me, and went to the deceased as he was standing on the edge of the kerb—the deceased stepped back, which caused him to fall off the kerb—he was falling when the prisoner caught him with both hands, and they both went down together—the prisoner's hands went in his chest, and his knees somewhere in his body—I got hold of the prisoner, and persuaded him not to fight—Wood picked the deceased up, and took him away—the prisoner said "Give me my hat, that is yours"—they had exchanged hats in the struggle—the deceased fell from making a false step off the kerb as the prisoner rushecl at him—he stepped back in self-defence to get out of his way.
Cross-examined. He was falling before the prisoner touched him—the prisoner made a rush at him, and that caused him to slip off the kerb—he would have fallen if he had not been touched.
Jury. Q. What time elapsed between the deceased striking the prisoner and the prisoner rushing at him? A. Not more than three seconds.
ISAAC WALTER . I am a steam-mill sawyer, and live at Robinson's Place, Rotherhithe—I was standing outside the Merry Cricketers—the deceased came out, smoking a cigar; he staggered, and fell against the door-post—the prisoner was coming down the road at the time, and he accused him of some thing concerning a van—the deceased said "I will fetch my son to you, I will fight you myself!"—he pulled his coat off, and jobbed the prisoner three or four times in the stomach with the tips of his fingers, and said "Now hit me!"—he asked me to hold his coat—I said "No; you had better take your coat home "—he then went in to the bar, and asked the young man there to hold his coat—he said "No, my good man; take your coat home "—he then put his coat on the bar, and asked the landlord to hold it—he said "No, my good man; take your coat, and go home "—he then went out, and said "Will no one hold my coat""—I said "No; put it on, and go home "—the prisoner was walking up and down the road, in front of the house—the deceased said "Wait a minute, I will take my coat home; I can fight half-a-dozen like you;"and I believe he was going home at the time, the policeman came along, and he came back and hit the prisoner in the face over the policeman's shoulder, and the prisoner made a rush behind the policeman, and the deceased went to step out of his way, and he stepped back off the kerb and fell in the road—they both fell together—I don't believe the prisoner could avoid falling on him—not a second elapsed between the blows.
ANN WOOLNOUGH . The deceased was my husband—he was fifty-one years of age—he went out between 4 and 5 on this afternoon, he had been in about half-an-hour before—he was brought home between 8 and 9—he said he was killed, that he had been kicked in the lower part of the stomach.
WILLIAM ROSE . I live at 11, Chilton Street—on Saturday afternoon, 25th March, between 4 and 5, the prisoner came to the deceased's yard, and asked if young Mr. Woolnough was at home—I said "No"—he asked if Mr. Woohrough was within—I said "Yes,"and with that the deceased came out—the prisoner said "You have got me into a fine mess about this van"
—Woolnough said "I have had nothing to do with it; my son had to do with it, and I will settle with your father," and he told him to go off his place.
JOSEPHUS SHAW . I am a surgeon, of Plough Road, Rotherhithe—on Saturday night, 25th March, I was called in to see the deceased—he was in a state of collapse from some internal injury—there were no external marks of violence—he died on the Wednesday morning—I made a post-mortem examination—the cause of death was rupture of the bladder—that would produce pains in the lower part of the body.
Cross-examined. I don't know that any fall would cause rupture of the bladder: the person must fall in a peculiar manner, so that something shall impinge on the region of the bladder—the injury must have occurred shortly before I saw him, which was about 8.45—it might have occurred an hour before, or a half or quarter, not much longer—there may be a single instance where the bladder has been ruptured, and the person has not known it for hours afterwards, but generally it is not so—in this you allude to, the rupture was so small that the whole extravasation did not take place at once—there is evidence of such a case in Dr. Taylor's work—I examined every part of the body of the deceased—the fiver was not ruptured, it was discoloured at the edges; that did not betoken that the man was a hard drinker, but that he did drink a little, not necessarily to excess—you would have hardening of the liver in hard drinking; a bladder distended by drink would be more easily ruptured than one in a natural state.
Re-examined. Shortly after an accident of this kind I should expect to find a person cold, in a state of collapse, with excessive pain in the abdominal regions, and tenderness on pressure—the time within which that would take place would depend upon the quantity of extravasation that had taken place—in this case there was three-quarters of a pint found in the peritoneum after death—the rupture was a considerable one—I could get the end of my little finger into the hole—he died of peritonitis, produced from extravasation of the urine—the kidneys did not act after I saw him—no urine was drawn away when we passed the catheter.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution;
MR. RIBTON defended Renshaw.
GEORGE ALLEN . I keep the Oxford beer-house, Battersea—on 28th March, about 6 o'clock, Wheeler and another man, who I cannot identify, as he stood rather in the shade, came in—Wheeler called for a pint of 6d. ale, and gave me a bad florin—I gave it back to him, and told him it was bad—it was passed to a customer, who also said that it was bad—they paid me with good money, and I gave them change—they took the florin with them—I saw them at the station on Sunday morning.
CHARLOTTE ISBELL . I keep the Old Original Woodman, at Battersea, about a quarter of a mile from the Oxford—on 25th March, between 7 and 8 o'clock, the prisoners came in—Renshaw asked for something to
drink, and gave me a half-crown—they had two bottles of ginger beer, which came to 2d.—I gave him his change: a florin, three penny pieces, and two halfpence—I put the half-crown in the till—there was no other there—Wright then came in, and said something, and I found the half-crown was bad—Wright took it, showed it to Stephens, and they went after the prisoners—I afterwards heard that they were in custody—the prisoner brought in the half-crown, and I marked it.
JOHN WRIGHT . I live at 38, Francis Street, Battersea—on 25th March I was potman at the Oxford, and saw the prisoners' come in together—Wheeler called for some ale, and I saw him pass the money—they were challenged with it being bad, and paid with good money—about an hour after that, I was in the Original Woodman, and they came there and called for two bottles of ginger beer—Renshaw paid with another half-crown—they did not remain a minute after they got their change—I then spoke to the landlady, who let me look at the half-crown—it was bad—I gave it to Stephens, and he bit it—I pointed the prisoners out to the police—they were together, as before.
THOMAS STEPHENS . I live at 18, Herbert Road, Battersea—I was at the Woodman on 25th March, and saw Renshaw give a half-crown—I saw the landlady put it in the till, and give change—Wright spoke to her, and she went to the till, and took out the half-crown—I bit it, found it was bad, followed them, and gave them in charge, with the coin.
WILLIAM EDWARDS (Policeman V 45). I was not on duty, being on the sick list; but Wright spoke to me, and I pointed the prisoners out to two sergeants of my division, who took them in custody, and I followed them to a shop, and saw Wheeler drop this packet from his right hand—it contains two bad half-crowns, in tissue paper—Stephens gave me a half-crown.
BARTHOLOMEW SULLIVAN (Policeman V 10). The prisoners were pointed out to me by Stephens and Wright—I took Wheeler, and told him the charge—he said nothing—I took him into a shop, searched him, and found in each waistcoat pocket a bad florin, loose, and 5s. 6d. in good silver, and 10 1/2 d. in bronze, a knife, a pocket-book, and a cabman's license—he was asked at the station how he accounted for the bad money; he said that it was all through betting and horse-racing.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . My father is Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—I am acquainted with the business, and assist him—these three half-crowns axe all bad, and all cast in the same mould, and these florins are bad.
Wheeler's Defence. I was at a horse race the day before, and won 2l. 5s. This money was amongst it The half-crown this young man had I lent him.
Renshaw received a good character.
WHEELER— GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment. RENSHAW— GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character. — Four Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution; MR. HARRIS
appeared for Hows, and MR. STRAIGHT for Willing
Westminster Bridge Road—on 3rd April, about 9.15 p.m., the prisoners came in together—Hows asked for two Manilla cigars, which I had not got—I gave him two cheroots, which came to 5d.—he laid down a half-sovereign, and I gave him the change, two half-crowns, four shillings, a sixpence, and a penny—he picked it up, and put it in his waistcoat pocket—Willing then said "I have sixpence; why did you change I have your half-sovereign back, and give her the change "—Hows gave me the change hack, and I gave him the half-sovereign—I had remarked that the half-crowns I gave him were old and worn—one of the half-crowns he gave me back was good, and the other bad, and not worn at all—they were just moving from the shop, when I discovered that it was bad—I sent a servant after them—Hows also said "If you give me a sovereign, I will give you a half-sovereign and 10s. worth of silver—that was while I was biting the half-crown—I took the two half-crowns from the till, and the rest from a bag in a drawer—I had put them in the till about 8 o'clock the same evening—I had taken them from other people, but I always look at money—I observed that they were worn—I gave the bad half-crown to the constable, who brought the prisoners back—it was a George IV.—I am quite positive it was not one of those I gave them—when they were brought back, Hows threw down a half-sovereign, and said "Take it, take it! I had rather give anything than be locked up—I said "I will lock you up."
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I do not know whether I said "I am short of small change, I had rather have my half-sovereign back"—I say that I was short of small change—I had two half-crowns and six or seven shillings in the till when they came in—I have taken bad money, but not at that shop.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS.—I had not much silver to spare—I had had ten or twelve customers in.
Re-examined. When they were searched the policeman produced some silver which he had taken from them, from which I picked out a half-crown as one I had given—the policeman had one or two more half-crowns.
JAMES ELLERTON (Policeman L 130). The prisoners were pointed out to me together in Westminster Bridge Road—I took Willing, and No. 186 took Hows—we took them back to the shop, and the last witness identified them—on Hows I found these six half-crowns, a shilling, a sixpence, 2 1/2 d., and a half-sovereign—before the Magistrate, Ayland picked out one of the half-crowns, and said "That is my half-crown"—at the station I searched Hows, and found a sixpence in his waistcoat pocket—I let it be with the rest, and cannot swear to it—Hows gave his mother's address, 14, St. Alban's Buildings, Cheyne Walk, Lambeth—Willing gave his address in Drayton Street, which I could not find, but I found Draper Street.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I did not go to Deacon Street.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. They were not looking into a shop when I took them.
GEORGE GRAY (Policeman L 184). I took Hows—he said "Where are you going to take us"—I said "To the tobacconist's shop"—he said "Is not the money right?"—I said "I don't know "—I searched Willing at the station and found two half-crowns, and sixpence and threepence in silver, good money—Hows threw a half-sovereign on the table and said "I would rather give a half-sovereign than be locked up "—they were walking side by side, towards Westminster Bridge.
E. J. ATLAND Re-examined. The half-crown is what I call a George IV., it has "G nil emus" on it.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. They stood looking in a tailor's shop about fifteen minutes.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ROLLINGS conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE READ (Thames Police Inspector). On the night of the 5th April, about 10.15 o'clock I saw the prisoner going towards the Wapping entrance of the London Docks, in a boat—I went alongside and said "Where did you bring that boat from, and what business have you in it?"—he said "Two men rowed her into Union Stairs and left her, and I stepped in and rowed away"—I said "I do not believe your statement"—I took him to the station and charged him with being a suspected person—I afterwards made enquiries at the Union Stairs.
CHARLES HALL . I live at 35, Salisbury Street—I received information, went to the station, and saw my boat in charge of the police—I had seen it safe at the Fountain Stairs the night before, in Stephen Regan's charge, my young chap—it was worth 8l.
STEPHEN REGAN . I left Mr. Hall's boat safe at the Fountain Stairs, at 8 o'clock on the 5th April—I secured it and locked the sculls—I found it and the sculls at the police-station—the lock had been broken.
Prisoners Defence. I was at Union Stairs and two lightermen asked me to keep the boat afloat; I did so and the policeman took me, the boat was of no use to me, nobody would have bought it of me, it is very hard to be kept in prison innocent.
He was further charged with having been before convicted at Southwark Police Court, in September, 1870, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; MR. STRAIGHT appeared for Bennett; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MR. ST. AUBYN for Carr; and MR. HARRIS for Salter.
FRANCIS MAYDWELL . I am a labourer, of 53, King Street, Cornwall Road, Lambeth—I went to see a brother workman, on Saturday night, who had the small-pox, and when I left him I had 6s.—I went up Friar Street about 12.30 on Sunday morning, and was surrounded by a lot of costermongers, who put me in a pen, as they do sheep, and cross-buttocked me across a barrow—Carr was one of them—he got his hand on my head, and pressed it against a barrow—Salter's hand was across my chest, and Bennett said "Don't leave the b—, kick him in the head "—I believe. Bennett was the man who kicked me on my head—I had not known them before, but am quite sure they are three of the men who attacked me—they took 5s. 6d. out of my inside waistcoat pocket—I cannot say which
took it—they left the pocket empty—I became insensible, and they all left me—I believe a policeman found me—I gave information to him, and saw Salter on the Monday morning, on his own door-step—I at once identified him, and gave him in custody—next day (Tuesday) the sergeant took me to the lock-up, where there were twelve men, and I picked out Bennett from among them—I am quite sure he was one of them—I afterwards picked out Carr at the police-court, where he stood between twelve and thirteen others—I am certain he is one of the men who robbed me, by the scar on his left cheek—I noticed that when I was robbed, and had mentioned it to the police.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I knocked off work about 1.15—I had been into about three public houses—they were not all in the same neighbourhood—the first was, I believe, the Bell, in Friar Street, where my sick friend resided—I do not know the names of the other public-houses—there were not four or five—I was' at home from 4 till 11 o'clock. I had nothing to drink at home—I was perfectly sober, and not reeling about in the least—I had only had a little drop of beer—I do not take spirits—I might have had one or two pots, not more, because I know my money would not run to it—I was thrown on my back on a barrow of whelks—Salter is the man belonging to the barrow—I have had a pint of beer to-day.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. I know Bennett by his having had the small-pox—I cannot show you where he is pitted with it, but I know he is the man—he was the fighting-man—I swear that he is pitted with small-pox.
Bennett. I never had small-pox in my life. Witness. I swear you are the man who kicked me on the head—I had not been drinking past my guard—I had had a pint or two—I did not attempt to fight anybody—I did not hear the constable say that I was attempting to fight everybody I came near—I never refused to tell the prisoner how much I had lost, nor did I say I would have the b—y thieves tomorrow; all I said was "I know them"—I believe I did say that I would have the b—y thieves tomorrow—I had 5s. 6d. in my pocket—I had left a sovereign at Mr. Richmond's for my wife, who was out charing, and I took my landlord and landlady down, and gave my landlady 18s., which left me 1s. 8d.; I also had 4s. in my pocket, and I sent for a pint of beer—there was no light on the barrow—I have seen my friend here who had the small-pox—I do not know that he says that I was drunk—there is no other witness here who was present.
Cross-examined by MR. ST. AUBYK. There were five or six in the crowd—Carr held me down on the top of the barrow—I have said that before.
JOHN CRAMP (Policeman M 112). About two o'clock on Monday after-noon Maydwell gave Salter into my custody in Martin Street, Friar Street, for being concerned in robbing him of 5s. 4d. in Friar Street, on the 2nd—he said that he knew nothing about it.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. He gave a correct name and address—he is a costermonger.
JAMES ALLCOCK (Policeman L 220). On Sunday morning, 2nd April, between 12 and 1 o'clock, I was on duty in Blackfriars Road, and saw some people at the corner of Friar Street, and among them was L 94—I went up and saw Maydwell lying down, and some blood on the ground—he had a cut on the eye—he said that he knew the party who had done it, and he would
have him in the morning—I believe Maydwell was not sober—I had seen him crossing Blackfriars Road about an hour before, and another man holding his arm—he was reeling about.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. I have said "He was drunk at the time; I had seen him just before 12 o'clock come out of a public-house, Mr. Wood's, I believe"—a man was leading him—I have also said "He talked about fighting all he came near; that was before the assault."
ALFRED CLEER (Policeman L 94). I went up with the other constables, and saw the prosecutor bleeding from the head and eye—he was very much injured—he had had some drink, but he knew what he was doing—I said "Who has done this, old friend?"—he refused to tell me, but said "The b—y thieves and b—s; I will have them tomorrow"—he said that he had been robbed, and that he knew them—I asked how much he had lost, but he never answered me—he was sober enough to walk away—he was under the influence of drink, but was not a drunken man—I did not say before the Magistrate that I thought he was sober; I said sober enough to know what he was doing.
ROBERT BELL (Detective Sergeant M). I took Bennett on 6th April, and charged him with being concerned, with others, in assaulting and robbing a labourer, in Friar Street, on 1st April—he said that he knew nothing at all about it—on the way to the station he said that he was there, and saw the disturbance—I placed him with eight others, and the prosecutor picked him out.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. His words were "It is no good denying it; I was there and heard some men quarrelling, and I believe they had a fight; when I put my haddocks in I generally have a walk."
HENRY PARKHURST (Detective Officer M). On Friday morning, 7th April, I took Carr in High Street, and charged him with assaulting and robbing a man—he said that he knew nothing about it; he was as innocent as a child—I placed him with ten other men, at the station, and the prosecutor picked him out.
Salter received a good character.
BENNETT— GUILTY †— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment, and Twenty-five Lashes with the Cat.
SALTER— GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
CARR— GUILTY **— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Justice Byles.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
GUILTY of concealing the birth only.
Seven Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
GEORGE EVERETT . I am an attendant at the Surrey County Lunatic Asylum, Wandsworth—the prisoner was also an attendant there—I remember a patient named Robert Mulley being brought into the infirmary on 13th April, where he died soon afterwards.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was always kind and attentive to the patients—the baths have been newly constructed out of the old ones—there has been no change or alteration in them since that time, either by order of the council or the committee; there has been no reparation of the taps, or alteration of any kind—the baths have been constructed about eight weeks, I should think—I have found sometimes the tape have not worked freely—there are taps for hot and cold water—no bath should be beyond ninety or ninety-six degrees of heat—sometimes, when the water is first turned on, it will not be more than seventy degrees—the temperature varies considerably—I have found difficulties in managing the water for patients, and notwith-standing all my precautions and care, it has been of a higher temperature that it ought to be; it has been reduced, of course, by adding cold water—the patient is not put into the bath until it is ready—we never allow any of them, to get in beforehand—there are often two attendants in the bath-room at a time—I can't say what the temperature of the water was at the time the deceased was in.
Re-examined. It is usual to have extra assistance whenever a patient is difficult to manage—I cannot speak as to the conduct of the deceased—I only had him under my charge for a very short period.
GEORGE GREEN . I am an attendant at the asylum—the prisoner came to me on 4th April, and said he had scalded Morley—he asked me to fetch the doctor, and I went for Mr. Ward—I saw the deceased in bed—he was scalded on the left arm and back—there are regulations for our guidance as to the temperature of the baths—as a general rule it should be from 90 to 96 degrees—some of the patients are bathed once a week, and others oftener—the deceased was not a refractory lunatic—the taps were not in good order, and we had to use all the force we could to turn them on and off—it was the prisoner's duty to turn the water off, and' ascertain the temperature, before the patient got into the bath.
Cross-examined. If a man should say that the water was too cold, I should ask him to get out of the bath, whilst I let more hot water in—a patient has never complained to me of the water not being warm enough—I might put my hand over the inlet hole, to ascertain if the water was too hot, and if not, I might let in a little more without requiring him to leave the bath—the inlet is under the man when in the bath, so that the hot water, if turned on, would mix with the other water at once, and the taps which supply the hot and cold water are about five or six inches apart, at the foot of the bath—the taps worked badly for about six months—I have found great difficulty in turning them off when the water has reached a proper temperature, and it has continued to flow notwithstanding all my efforts to stop it—there has been no alteration in the taps since this affair happened, but a fresh key has been bought, in order that we may turn them on and off more easily—the new key will fit on the taps further, and will not slip off, as the old key did—it gives us greater mechanical power over them—the prisoner was always very attentive to the patients—the deceased did not like any other attendant to do anything for him except the prisoner—he used to call him "George"—there are not always two attendants in the bath room—I have never known lunatics to get in before the proper time, notwithstanding the care used.
Re-examined. The water comes in hot from the boilers—the patient ought not to be in the room whilst the bath is being filled—it is contrary to regulations to allow anyone of them to be there.
COURT. Q. When the inmate is low in the bath, does the water fall on him? A. No, the water enters at the bottom—there are two inlets, the lower one being about three inches, and the other about six inches, from the bottom—the patient's head is placed at the end of the bath, which is widest—if the water was let in when a patient is there, it would get to his legs first—the deceased was scalded on his left arm and back—I cannot say how the hot water could get to those parts without scalding his legs—I have never had occasion to turn on the hot water when a patient has been in the bath, and has complained of its being too cold—I have never had such complaints made to me—the water comes in with considerable force when turned on fully—I know nothing about the size of the pipes, or which way they are laid—the water comes in with a rush, and the bath is filled in three or four minutes—when sufficiently full, the water would reach up to my knees, supposing I stood upright in it.
FREDERICK HENRY WARD . I am the junior medical officer of the asylum—on 4th April, I was called in to see the deceased man, Mulley, and examined him in the prisoner's presence—I found an extensive scald upon the back, another on the inner side of the left forearm, reaching from the palm to the elbow, and others at the back of each ankle, or rather, each heel—the scald on the back extended from the bladebone of the left shoulder down to the buttock—a greater part was on the left side—there was considerable shock to the system—he was cold and shivering when I saw him—he recovered from the shock the same evening, but on the 13th he got markedly worse, and I expired from bronchitis—I had seen him previously to the scalding, and he was not then suffering from that complaint; at any rate, not from acute bronchitis—he might have had chronic bronchitis, as I believe he spat a little at times—I made a pout mortem examination of the body, in conjunction with Dr. Biggs—I consider that death arose from bronchitis—it frequently results from scalding—there was a little congestion of the membranes of the brain, on the right side, which might have been produced by the scalding or the bronchitis.
Cross-examined. He had recovered from the shock, but not quite from the scalds, at the time of his death—the skin had not recovered—I do not think the shock to the system was the severest part of his injuries—he did not seem to be susceptible of pain—the scalds, as I have stated, had not quite healed—there was a large slough in the centre of one of them—he would suffer most from the shock in the first instance—there were more patients suffering from bronchitis at the time—it was a common complaint just then, and was attributable to ordinary causes—if the deceased, in this instance, had been liable to catch cold, he would have got bronchitis—if I had not heard of the scalds I should have attributed it, in his case, to the ordinary causes—bronchitis set in on the fifth or sixth day after the occurrence; but he got markedly worse towards the 13th, when he commenced spitting a good deal—he was treated for bronchitis on the fifth day, by the superintendent—it set in, I believe, immediately after the scalds—it may come on from a week or a fortnight after a person has been scalded—I know nothing of the baths, although I have seen them frequently.
COURT. Q. What part of the body would be most susceptible to scalds? A. The skin of the back is more susceptible than the skin of the hand—you could bear the palm of the hand in hotter water than you could the forearm or back—at the back of the heels the skin would be thicker than
in other parts, and consequently not quite so susceptible to heat—I attribute the scalding of the deceased to there being a fresh influx of water let into the bath during the time he was bathing—from the position of the scalds I assume that the deceased was put in the bath the wrong way, with his back to the inlet—he might hare been turned a little more to one side, and probably would put down his hand as soon as he felt that the water was too hot—he might try to lift himself, or stand up as soon as he could—that is the only way I can account for the scalds being where they were—he was a very feeble man, and his constitution was breaking up fast—I should think he might have got out of the bath, as he was able to walk about his ward.
JAMES BIGGS . I am the resident physician and superintendent of the asylum—on 4th April I was called to see the deceased—he was lying on a bed, in a small room, suffering from a scald, which extended over the greater part of his back and left forearm, on the inner side—I agree with the last witness as to the position of the scalds—I attended him regularly until the 11th, and was present at the post-mortem examination—in my opinion acute bronchitis was the cause of death, and that it was the effect of a scald—if he was in the bath at the moment hot water was turned on, he would be scalded instantly; I should say before he had time to get out—there is only one inlet to the bath for both hot and cold water, but the inlet is supplied by two pipes, the hot water on the left and the cold on the right—they both unite with a main, which forms the inlet alluded to, and which is 53/4 inches from the bottom of the bath—the diameter of the pipe is 11/4 inch, which would give a pressure of 10lbs. to one square inch, both for hot and cold water—there are regulations put up in every bath-room—the heat of each bath ought to range from 90 to 96 degrees—there are special orders against the water being of greater heat than that—from 125 to 140 degrees of heat would scald—some portions of the body, particularly the back and belly, would be more susceptible to scalds than others—the skin is more sensitive there—after seeing the deceased, I asked the prisoner how he could be so culpably careless as to turn on almost boiling water against the back of the patient, or words to that effect—he replied that it was done thoughtlessly, accidentally, or unintentionally, I forget which; that he had done it thoughtlessly, and did not mean to hurt the man—I said if anything happened to the patient, he bad laid himself open to a charge of manslaughter—I think he did not reply to that.
COURT. Q. You said he had turned the water on the man's back? A. I intended to convey, then, that the man had been put in the bath the wrong way, contrary to the usage of the asylum—he could lie in the bath very well that way.
Cross-examined. I have never known a case in which the position of the patient has been changed—I do not see any object in doing it—I first detected the bronchitis on the day after the accident or the scalding, and I made a medical note of it—he spat matter the day after—the right lung was diseased—it was an old-standing complaint—the left lung was attacked by bronchitis, but there was no other disease there—he was a debilitated man, and feeble—troublesome, but not violent, at least not since his admission on 23rd March—I have never heard complaints of patients having turned themselves in the bath—if a patient requires the assistance of two attendants, they are sent—if a man was very violent, it might require more than two to restrain him—the engineer, of course, has the management
of the water in the boilers—the water varies in heat according to the fires that are kept—the accident happened a little before I in the day time—baths are given, up to bed time—this was a cleansing bath, because the man was dirty—there would be no object in moving the man about—the taps run into what is called a Y piece—I should think there is a distance of a foot and a half between one tap and the other—there is but one inlet, so that hot and cold water enters from the same place into the bath—the to comes along the 1 1/4 inch pipe on the left—I think it was necessary for his back to have been towards the inlet for him to have been scalded in the way he was—he was not injured in the front at all—I am positive about that—if he was there when hot water was let in with a rush, he might be scalded before he could get out—his legs and his belly, I think, would have been scalded first, which was not the case—I do not think it possible that the rush of water could have gone round the bath before it mingled with the water in the centre, and not have scalded his legs and belly—it is possible the tendency of the pressure would be to send the hot water more to the left than to the right—I think the hot water must have struck upon his back directly—I have tried the effect of a rush of water in this particular bath, and I find that it goes down the centre—I do not think that a column of water projected with force into the bath would go along the left side of the bath without mingling with the water in the centre—water of 110 degrees of heat would not produce scalding.
COURT. Q. How do you account for his heels being scalded? A. The water might have been forced on to them, or he might have drawn up his legs in order to get out of the bath; but all this is mere conjecture—there is a waste pipe of two inches in diameter, and an exit pipe at the bottom of the bath—the waste pipe is simply to prevent the water over-flowing the sides of the bath, and so making the place in a mess—the ordinary depth of water in a bath is five inches, and the time for filling it about a minute—no alteration has been made in the baths since the accident—they are new ones, and do not require alteration.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY—Recommended to mercy by the Jury and Dr. Begg — One Month's Imprisonment, without hard labour .
Before Mr. Recorder.
THOMAS BALDOCK . I am pay-clerk at the stone-yard of the workhouse of the parish of St. Mary, Lambeth, in Upper Kennington Lane—it is my duty to pay the men for the work they have done—the calculation is made between 4 and 5 o'clock—I pay each poor person half in money and half in bread—there are tickets given, marked from "1" to "10," and the amount of bread given is struck through the number—they are filled up with the name of the person to whom the ticket is given, and we strike out the number which the person is to receive—there is "1," "2," "3," "4," "5," and so on, on the tickets, and if the person is to receive two loaves, you strike
out the "2," and leave the others standing—I also make an entry in this I book, at the time I deliver this ticket, of the amount of bread and cash paid to each person—when the order is delivered to the party entitled to receive it, it is his duty to take it to the bread distributor, at the work-house, and he gets the amount of bread marked on the ticket—I know the prisoner—he was at work in the stone-yard on 23rd March last, and he did work entitling him to an order for one loaf, and I gave him an order on that day for one loaf—I have an entry for one loaf in the book—I crossed I the "1" out on the order, and wrote the prisoner's name, and put my own initials on it, and gave it to the prisoner—I only intended him to receive one loaf on that order—on looking at this order I find that the figure "2" has been struck out instead of the "1," and the figure "1" nearly obliterated—I did not strike through the figure "2" at all—I struck through the figure "1"—on the original order he was entitled to receive one loaf—I can just see where the old mark is through the figure "1," it must have been got off when the mark was wet.
Prisoner. I plead guilty to having the bread, but not to uttering the ticket.
JOHN WILLIAMS . I am bread distributor, and distributor of out-door relief at the workhouse—the orders given to the persons employed in the stone-yard would be brought to me, and the person presenting the order would be entitled to the number of loaves that were scratched out on the I order—I should give two loaves on this order—there is no doubt that it was presented on 23rd March—the prisoner is marked for two loaves on 23rd March—my clerk would make the entry—he would get the number from me—the tickets are put up in bundles each day—this order was tied up for that particular week—there was only one order presented by the prisoner on that day.
CHARLES DWYER . I am clerk in the office of the bread distributor—the prisoner received two loaves on 23rd March—I know that by this entry "Thomas Baldock—Vince, 2 loaves"—that is made by me from the ticket—it would be handed to me by the last witness, and I should enter it—I can't say that that ticket was brought by the prisoner—his name is on it, but anyone might present it, very likely his children or his wife—I can't say who brought it.
THE RECORDER was of opinion the evidence was not sufficient.
NOT GUILTY .
THOMAS BALDOCK . On the 27th March the prisoner did work in the stone-yard, and was entitled to one loaf, for which he received an order—I scratched the "1" out with my pen—this is the order—the mark across the "1" has been taken out, and the mark put through the "10" and "lbs." put in instead, which is not in my writing—that makes it an order for 10 lbs. of bread.
JOHN WILLIAMS . On the 27th March the prisoner brought this order to me for 10lbs. of bread—I delivered it to him and made an entry in my book—when he came on the 27th I said I thought the figure "1" had been marked—he said that it had, but it was a mistake on the part of Mr. Baldock, and he had marked the "10" afterwards—I gave him the 10lbs. of bread, and the next day I showed the order to Mr. Baldock and we had some conversation.
Prisoner's Defence. I have been under the doctor since I was taken, it was entirely through want and starvation.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in September, 1868— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH and MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution; and
ROBERT HOODLESS . I am a checker, in the service of the Great Western Railway Company at Paddington—this (produced) is a consignment note with my initials on it, for a number of bales of bacon from Limerick, from No. 581 to 643 inclusive—those sixty-three bales arrived at Paddington Station on the 1st January, 1870, and I counted them and found sixty-three—they were addressed to Henderson & Co., from Shaw & Son, of Limerick—the bacon was covered with rough wrappers, but you could tell that it was bacon—there was a tin tally attached to each bale, with the name of Shaw & Son on it—the bacon was laid on the platform—each bale contained four sides.
Cross-examined. I am sure they had tin tallies on them—I did not say before the Magistrate "I never saw bales come up without tin tallies, but I have no recollection whether these had"—I said "I never saw any bales come up from Shaw's without tin tallies "—that is the reason I say these had tin tallies.
SAMUEL HENRY WALKER . I am a clerk in the employ of Henderson & Son, provision merchants, Hibernia Chambers—I produce the original invoice of the sixty-three bales of bacon from Shaw & Son—each bale contained four sides—on the 1st January, 1870, instructions were given to Messrs. Harris, carriers, in the Borough, to collect ten of the bales—I did not give the instructions—there is none of my writing on this document—I only know according to this that that number of bales were directed to be sold to Woodward, of Landport.
WILLIAM STANNARD . I am foreman to Harris & Co., carriers, in the Borough—this paper has my signature on it—on 1st January I received, at the Paddington Station, sixty bales of bacon, and delivered ten bales, from 601 to 610, to Robert Clayton, to be sent on to Portsmouth—I saw them put on Clayton's van.
Cross-examined. Clayton would take them to Nine Elms Station. I delivered them to him at the Great Western Station.
ROBERT CLAYTON . I am a carman, and live at Little Anchor Road, Bermondsey—on the 1st January, 1870, I received from the last witness ten bales of bacon, at the Great Western Railway, at Paddington, and in pursuance of instructions I took those ten bales to the Nine Elms Goods Station of the London and South Western Railway Company—they were marked S 601 to 610—I saw them unloaded from my van into a truck at Nine Elms—one of the clerks called over the numbers to the weighman—I was there at the time they were loaded into the truck from my van.
Cross-examined. I know it was 1st January, 1870, by my delivery sheet.
note and bacon from the last witness—I saw the bacon loaded into a larry, that is a low truck, with doors to open at the side—it was then covered over with a tarpaulin—it was loaded carefully, and would not be likely to fall out—it could not fall out the way it was loaded—this is the consignment note I got from Clayton—it has my signature on it—I checked it, and put the weights at the back—the numbers were 601 to 610, and you will find the weights at the back—I took the weights.
WILLIAM EVANS . I am a guard in the service of the South Western Railway Company—I was the front guard on the evening of 1st January in charge of the goods train which left Nine Elms at 6.25—the train consisted partly of trucks that were to go to Portsmouth, and partly to go to Southampton—there were forty-two trucks—it was rather a heavy train—the proper time for arriving at Woking was 8 o'clock—it arrived there that night at 8.10—I should not suppose the train would go more than eight or from that to twelve miles an hour between Woking and Brookwood, as it is a very steep gradient; 1 in 326, from Woking up to Brookwood, or not so much as that—having to stop at Brookwood to put in milk, the train would not be able to go away from there more than at the rate of three or four miles for 200 or 300 yards, and then the speed would accelerate a little—between Frimley and Farnborough the pace begins to increase, because after you pass the Five Arch over Bridge, which crosses the line just before getting to Frimley, there is a decline then towards Farnborough—I saw the trucks, including the one in which the bacon was, before the train left Nine Elms—they were all properly covered up—it had the appearance of everything being in perfect order—when we got to Woking I passed part of the way down the train until T met my mate, who goes in the hind van—he looks at the hind part, and then we change over, and go up the 6-foot ride to see that everything is correct—all was correct at Woking, to the best of my belief—the truck where the bacon was, was eleven or twelve trucks from the front van—that would be in the front part of the train—I think there were about eleven Southampton waggons, and then came two or three Portsmouth ones—we arrived at Brookwood at 8.30, and left at 8.33, after taking in six or seven cans of milk, which we had to put out again at Farnborough—we arrived at Farnborough at 8.52, and remained there five minutes.
Cross-examined. I did not know there was any bacon in the train—I can't say whether all the larries were sheeted over or not, because some waggons do not require sheeting, it is according to the description of goods—I have heard of sheeting blowing off—the larries are fastened with hooks and eyes, not with bolts.
Re-examined. I did not hear of any sheeting being blown off on this journey.
FREDERICK PAYNE . I am a breaksman, in the London and South Western Railway Company's service—on 1st January I travelled by the goods train, which left at 6.25—I travelled as far as Southampton—it was my duty to keep an account of the numbers of the trucks—amongst the trucks was one "1271" for Portsmouth—before the train started I examined all the trucks to see that they were properly secured and sheeted—it was my duty during the journey, at the different stations, to examine the trucks, and see that they were all right—I did so—I found nothing wrong with the sheeting, or the trucks during the journey—the truck "1271," for Portsmouth, would be detached at Bishop stoke.
Cross-examined. I did not say before the Magistrate one or two might be unfastened; the weight of the sheeting, I think is not heavy enough to unfasten any of the hooks—I did not say one or two might be unfastened.
Re-examined. I did not mean the bolts might get unfastened—the sheet string might be unfastened, but I did not find any of them unfastened at the different stations going down the line.
WILLIAM SPREADBOROUGH . I was guard of the goods train from Bishop-stoke to Portsmouth on Sunday morning, 2nd January, 1870—we left Bishopstoke at 5.10, and arrived at Portsmouth at 6.50—everything appeared to be safe when we arrived there—at Portsmouth, the carriages were left in charge of the policemen in the employ of the company.
Cross-examined. I did not notice the larry that the bacon was in, in particular—everything was safe, and all the sheets tied down as far as I could see.
JOHN MATTHEWS . I am a guard, in the employment of the South Western Railway Company—I was the guard of the tram on the night of 2nd January—everything appeared to be safe and in proper condition when I took charge at Bishopstoke, and they all appeared safe when I delivered the trucks up to the charge of the company's policeman, on Sunday morning, at Portsmouth—I noticed nothing wrong with any of the sheeting, or anything.
JAMES ELDRIDGE . I am a policeman, in the service of the South Western Railway Company, at Portsmouth—I am at the gate, to prevent anyone coming in without knowing the nature of their business, and to see that nothing goes out on Sunday morning—the carriages and trucks would be under my charge till 7 o'clock in the evening—nothing left the station during that time; I had the keys.
THOMAS HALL . I was a policeman, at Portsmouth, on the night of 2nd January, 1870—I was on duty from the time last witness left, at 7 o'clock on the Sunday evening till Monday morning—during that time the trucks that arrived from Bishopstoke would be in my charge—nothing was removed from them while I was on duty.
WILLIAM PENN . I am in the Company's service, at Portsmouth Station, as checker—on Monday morning, 3rd January, 1870, I saw the goods unloaded from the trucks, that had arrived on the previous Sunday morning from Bishopstoke; one of them was No. 1271—I saw seven bales of bacon taken from it—I used the consignment note to check the numbers—ten ought to have arrived, and there were only seven—they were No. 601, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 8; 607, 9 and 10, were absent—I saw the truck unloaded—the sheet was all tied down, all the strings were all right.
Cross-examined. All the bolts, hooks and eyes, and everything was right and regular.
Re-examined. The seven bales had tin labels on them, and the numbers on the labels, and "Shaw & Son" was branded on the bacon.
CHARLES HEATH . I live near Frimley—in January, 1870, in consequence of what I heard some children had found, I went to a ditch, near the railway, and found two flitches of bacon in one ditch, and two in another, about 150 yards from the railway—I found some more in a ditch, about 300 yards from the other, about five minutes' walk from a cottage, where the two prisoners lived, with their mother—I afterwards pointed out the spot where I had found the bacon, to one of the superintendents of police—I took the bacon to a public-house.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoners as long as I can remember—I have always found them honest, hard-working men, in constant work.
ROBERT GIBBS . I am a milkman, and am brother-in-law to the prisoners—in January last year we lived at old Mrs. Bedford's cottage—I live at the opposite end, under the same roof, but not the same house like—I remember seeing some bacon at the house one Sunday morning—on the Saturday night before that, I was at the Rose and Thistle, public-house, about 10 o'clock, and saw the prisoners there—Warren Barnard, their nephew, came in while George was there—I stayed till the house was shut up—Barnard was not there while both the prisoners were there, only George—they went away about 10.45—John did not come there that night while I was there—I am quite sure about that—I have never said that John was in the tap-room—I stayed till the house was shut, and then went home, and went to bed—I got up at 4 o'clock next morning, and went milking—I did not see either of the prisoners that morning—I came back about 9 o'clock—they were then at home, having their breakfast—I saw some bacon in a barrel; there were about eleven flitches, I believe—the prisoners were not doing anything with it then—before I left, at 4 o'clock in the afternoon; to go milking again, I saw them putting some into a sack; one was holding the sack, and the other putting the bacon in—I don't know what became of it—I saw Barnard that Sunday morning before I went out at 4 o'clock—he was in the prisoner's room—he was not there when I came back, and I have not seen him since—the bacon was not there when I came back from milking—I spoke to the prisoners about it, and they said they had put it away.
Cross-examined. I first saw the bacon on Sunday evening, at 9 o'clock; not Sunday morning; it was my mistake—I never mentioned this matter to the police till I was asked about it a few weeks ago—if I had thought there had been anything wrong, I should have mentioned it—I heard nothing about any bacon being lost—the house where the prisoners lived is their mother's—Barnard and George were in the public-house together about three-quarters of an hour, on the Saturday night, talking together—it was in the prisoners' room that I saw Barnard on the Sunday morning—the prisoners have the same room—there was no one 'there with Barnard—he was there alone—the prisoners were not there—when the prisoners said they had put the bacon away, I did not know what they meant by it—I did not think there was anything extraordinary about it.
Re-examined. It was a common thing to find eleven flitches of bacon at the house; not a common thing, but they very often kill three or four pigs a year.
WILLIAM HENRY HYDE . I am Superintendent of Police at Frimley—on 11th January, 1870, I went to the Rose and Thistle, at Frimley Green—I saw the lad Heath there, who gave into my custody four fides of bacon; it was wet and muddy, as though got out of a ditch—when the dirt was removed I saw that it was branded "Shaw & Son"—Superintendent Potter afterwards came and claimed it—on 14th March last George Bedford was given into my custody by Potter and Newland—he asked me what I believed would be done to him; would he get three or four years—I told him I did not know what he had done—as we went along to the station he said drink was the cause of it; he had got a glass or two, and Warren Barnard had come to the public-house and taken him away to the railway bank, and took away the bacon to Bedford's house, and when he saw what he had done the following day, he took it down and buried it in
a ditch, near the railway—the spot where the bacon was found was pointed out to me by Heath; it was about 120 yards from the railway—there were the footmarks of two persons convenient to it, near the railway bridge, leading in the direction of Bedford's house—the prisoner George asked me how many sides of bacon there were—I said "Eleven lost, and four found, making fifteen," and he said "There was only twelve."
Cross-examined. He said he never knew afterwards what had become of it; none of it was sold, or realised a penny—I have been in that neighbourhood between nine and ten years—George worked for the South-western Railway; the other works for farmers—George has been in the same employment for some time, but John changes occasionally—I believe he has lived in the neighbourhood all his life—I do not know the man Barnard at all.
THOMAS AMBROSE POTTER . I am Superintendent of the London and South-Western Railway Police, at Waterloo Station—I received information of the missing bacon on the 3rd January, 1870; I went to Farnborough Station, and from there to the house where the last witness lived, and there found four sides of bacon, in a dirty, wet state; it had, no doubt, been lying in the water some days—I examined each side, and found they were all branded "Shaw & Son"—I met the witness Heath in the meadows near the railway, and examined the place between the spot where the bacon was found and the prisoner's house—I first examined the line, and I found two places on the gravel where something heavy had fallen; one on the bridge spoken of, and the other from 30 to 50 yards off—I then traced heavy footmarks from the bridge, across a meadow, to the prisoners' house, and also from their house backwards and forwards—I did not know, at that time, that the prisoners lived there—in consequence of what I learnt, I went and saw George Bedford, who was then in the Company's employ, working in a gang of four or five—I asked him whether he had heard anything of the bacon robbery—he said no, he had heard about bacon being found in the ditch—I asked whether he knew anything about it—he said "No "—I then asked whether he had any relation, or knew anyone employed at Woking or Nine Elms—he said "No"—I pressed him upon that point several times, as to whether he had any relation there—Warren Barnard was at that time employed by the Company, at Nine Elms, and was on duty there on Saturday night, 1st January, till 6 o'clock—in March, 1871, in consequence of information received from a prisoner in Horsemonger Lane Prison, I met Superintendent Newland at Farnborough, and went with him to Frimley, and found George at work on the line—I said "Bedford, do you remember my speaking to you last year about the bacon robbery?"—he said "Yes"—I said "And you informed me then that you had no relation at Nine Elms?"—he said "Oh, yes"—I said "I want you to go to your grandmother's with me"—I understood it was his grandmother, we went there, and as soon as the door was opened, his sister and mother were there, and he said to them "Do you say that I stole the bacon?"—his mother said "No, I did not say so; I told you when you brought it here that it should not stop here, and that is all I know about it"—I then asked the sister to point out to me, in the presence of the prisoner and his mother, where she had seen the bacon—this was in consequence of what she had previously told me—she took me to a small hovel, just outside the back door, and said "There "—I asked her how many sides of bacon she saw—she said, at first, she could not say, but afterwards, she should think about ten—I asked her
what became of them—she said she did not know—I then asked George what he did with it—he said "We buried it in a ditch, at the bottom of the garden "—I asked him to point me out the place—he said it was no use, as the ditch had been cleaned out since; the bacon was gone, he did not know where—I asked him whether he had seen Barnard on the Saturday night, the night of the robbery—he said yes, he had, and said other words, but I cannot exactly think of them now—he said he had not seen him since that night—I then went to look after John, and found him about a mile off, at work in a field—Newland, who was with me, called him, I can't exactly remember the words he made use of, but John said he knew nothing of the bacon robbery, he was a-bed at the time it was brought to his house, until the Sunday morning—he said on the Sunday evening he and his brother George put it into sacks, and carried it back on to the railway, and left it there, and what became of it afterwards he did not know—he said there were eleven sides.
Cross-examined. He said "I did not bring any bacon to the house, I saw it there on Sunday morning, and I and my brother carried it away and threw it aside on the line, and took it away in sacks."
GEORGE NEWLAND . I am Superintendent of Police at Farnborough—on on the 14th last March I was in company with Potter, when he went to the prisoner's house—while George was being conveyed along he said "There were not fifteen"—I immediately cautioned him—he said "There were not fifteen sides, only twelve."
GEORGE BEDFORD— GUILTY of Receiving — Five Months' Imprisonment.
JOHN BEDFORD— NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. HUMPHRIES defended Clough, and MR. MOODY defended Lewis.
WILLIAM JOHN PRIME . I am an upholsterer, and live at Camberwell—on Friday morning, the 21st April, about 2 o'clock, I was at the corner of Parliament Street—I parted with a friend there, and then went over Westminster Bridge, in the direction of Camberwell—I was accosted by a female just as I got over the bridge—I shook her off and went a little way further, when another woman came up to me from behind and swung herself round in front of me, and said "You have soon got rid of her"—I said "Yes, and will soon get rid of you"—I could not swear that Lewis was the woman, it was so momentary—nothing more passed, but she ran away—I felt for my purse, and found it gone—I ran after her—Clough ran out into the middle of the road and laid hold of my right arm—someone halloaed out and a policeman came running towards me—he told me to run after Clough instead of the woman—I gave chase to him and saw him caught—I did not notice Cooper there—I noticed a second man running, but I had hot seen him before—my purse was in the left trowsers pocket—there was a half-sovereign in it, and twelve or thirteen shillings—I had
seen it safe when I was on the bridge—I took a half-crown out of my pocket to pay a cabman, and I felt it then—I was perfectly sober—the purse has not been found.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHRIES. The policeman told me to run after the man—I said before the Magistrate "I pulled myself away from him, and ran after the woman"—the policeman was a little further on; when I got up to him I said I had lost my purse—he said "Follow me," and I let the woman go, and rushed after the two men with him—I had been out with some friends—I had been into one public-house and had two glasses of stout—that was all I had all the evening—I had not been with my friends the whole evening—I felt my purse when I was on the bridge—Clough did not say anything when he caught hold of me—it was a dark night—there were some lamps, but I can't say how far off—I was accosted by a woman before Lewis came up—I did not have any conversation with that woman—Clough did not hold me more than a second or two—I had some loose money in the same pocket with my purse.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. My coat was covered with mud when I got to the station, and something was said about my having been on the ground—I did not tell one of the police-sergeants I had lost a sovereign—I said I had lost a pound; a half-sovereign and some silver—when the woman was brought to me in the station-house, she said "You don't say I am the woman that robbed you?"—I said I thought the woman was a little taller, but it was so momentary I could not be sure.
Re-examined. The woman stood in front of me, and got hold of my trowsers.
GEORGE JORDAN (Policeman L 91). I was in the Lower Marsh about 2.30, the other side of Westminster Bridge—I saw the prosecutor and Lewis there—I knew her before—all at once I saw her run down York Street—the prosecutor made a start to catch her—Clough ran across the road, and took hold of him—I started to go across the road, when Cooper sung out to Clough "Come on, it is time to go"—he was on the opposite side—Clough then let go of the prosecutor, and they both ran up the Lower Marsh, and into the Westminster Road—I ran to the prosecutor, and asked what was the matter—he said he had been robbed by a female—I pursued Clough and Cooper for about 100 yards—they saw another constable in front, and commenced walking—I took them, and said I should charge them with being concerned in robbing a man of his money in the Lower Marsh—they said they had not been there at all—I saw the woman in custody afterwards—I can swear she is the woman—I have seen the men on three or four occasions—I only lost sight of them as they turned into the Westminster Road, for about a quarter or half a minute—I am certain Cooper is the man that spoke—I swear to them both.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHRIES. I was about fifty yards off when I saw Clough holding the prosecutor; it was a dark night, but the lamps were alight—there was a lamp close to them—Clough had hold of him by the shoulder—I could not say how long he held him—I had not seen Clough about there that night previously—I did not see the prosecutor accosted by any other woman but Lewis—they were only together a short time, just time to exchange a few words.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I heard nothing that passed between the prosecutor and the female—when I first saw them I was 100 or 150 yards away—I recognize the woman by her dress and height—I don't say that I saw her features—I identify her dress and jacket, and comforter.
Re-examined. I had frequently seen her before—I could not swear to her dress on previous occasions.
ISAAC CATTERMOLE (Policeman L 216). On the 21st April I was in the Westminster Road, about 2.30—I saw the two male prisoners running down Westminster Road, from the Marsh, and the last witnessed prosecutor following them—when they saw me they made a halt—Jordan came up, and took hold of them—I went across the road, and the prosecutor pointed to Clough, and said "That is the man that stopped me from running after the woman"—the prosecutor was sober—I have known the prisoners for years.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHRIES. The prosecutor was excited by running, not by anything else, I am sure.
PATRICK SCULLY (Policeman L 163). I was in plain clothes, near Westminster Bridge, on that morning, about 2.15—I saw the female prisoner running from the direction of York Street, across the Lower Marsh, into Fraser Street and Oakley Street—I also saw 91 L running towards the Westminster Bridge Road—I went in search of the female, and found her standing in a doorway in Oakley Street—I took her—she asked what I was taking her for—I said "On the suspicion of robbing a man of his purse and money "—she said "Here is all the money I have got," and she handed me what money she had—I said "How much is there here?"—she said "There is two half-sovereigns; I don't know how much silver"—when I got to the station I put the money on the table out of my hand—there was only one half-sovereign, a wo-shilling piece, a sixpence, and 4 1/2 d.—I am certain she is the woman I saw running.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. When I went up to her I said "You are the person I want" and she said "What fort?"—I was in York Street, close to Lower Marsh, when I saw the woman first—there were no other lights but the lights in the street—she ran into Fraser Street and into Oakley Street—I did not follow her—I simply took a few steps and looked, and then I followed L 91—I was present when the men were taken—I did not go to the station—I went round to Oakley Street, where I saw the woman—that was about 300 yards from where the men were taken—from the time I saw her running to the time I took her, there was an interval of about six or seven minutes—when she got to the station she said she was waiting for a gentleman who was lodging there.
Re-examined by MR. HUMPHRIES. Clough ran about 200 yards after the prosecutor got away from him—the prosecutor said he had been robbed of 1l. in gold, some silver, and a purse; that was what I understood him.
Lewis's statement before the Magistrate: "When I asked the prosecutor if I was the woman, he said I was not. I told the constable how the money came in my possession, and what I was waiting at the door for, for a gentleman that was lodging there coming up."
CLOUGH— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
COOPER and LEWIS— NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 5TH JUNE, 1871.