CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
EIGHTH SESSION, HELD JUNE 5TH, 1871.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
EDWARD T. E BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
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, June 5th, 1871, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. THOMAS DAKIN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir JOHN BARNARD BYLES , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir COLIN BLACKBURN , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Sir DAVID SALOMONS , Bart, M.P., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., Sir WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE , Knt., WARREN STORMES HALE, Esq., Sir BENJAMIN SAMUEL PHILLIPS , Knt., Sir THOMAS GABRIEL , Bart, and Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart, M.P., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNET , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir SYDNEY 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 Deliyery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq., Alderman
WILLIAM HALSE GATTY JONESM, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
DAKIN, MAYOR EIGHTH 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, June 5th, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. BESLEY and MONTAGU WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution; and
MR. LAXTON the Defence.
After the case had proceeded for some time, some notes and documents which were necessary to the case, not being forthcoming, and no notice to produce them having been given, the Jury were directed to find a verdict of.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and HORACE BROWN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. TURNER the Defence.
JAMES NEILSON . I am a cashier at the Bayswater Branch of the London and County Bank—Mrs. Stewart, of Pembridge Crescent, keeps an account there—I knew the prisoner as her servant—she has been in the habit of coming regularly to the bank and transacting business for Mrs. Stewart—on the 3rd March she came with a written order from Mrs. Stewart for a cheque-book—I delivered her one—this is it (produced)—about the end of March Mrs. Stewart brought the book to the bank, and I found that four cheques had been torn out bodily, counterfoils and all—when the book was delivered there were twenty-five cheques in it, four were missing—on the 9th March the prisoner presented this cheque for 20l., drawn by Mrs. Stewart, payable to bearer—I paid her 15l. in gold and one 5l. note—on the 13th March the prisoner came again, and presented this cheque for 30l.—I paid her 25l. in gold and a 5l. note—I asked
her how she would take it—she said "All gold"—I said "All gold?"—thinking it was a large amount—she said "I will take one 5l. note"—the number of that note is in the pay-book—the cheque was drawn on one of the blank cheques out of the book I had delivered.
Cross-examined. I have frequently seen the prisoner—she, and no one else, was in the habit of coming from Mrs. Stewart—I had paid her different sums at different times during the present year—I did not know that she could not write—I saw her write her name very indifferently, not such a hand as that on the cheque—I had no reason to suspect the cheque to be forged at the time I paid it—I took particular notice of the person presenting it, from the alteration in the figures and the general character of the signature not being so good as Mrs. Stewart's—if it had been to any one but the servant who usually came, I should not have paid it—I should say it was paid about 11 o'clock in the morning.
CATALINA ISABEL STBWART . I live at 15, Pembridge Crescent, and am the wife of Robert Stewart—I keep an account at the Bayswater branch of the London and County Bank—the prisoner was cook in my service—I have been in the habit of sending her to the bank to take and fetch money—about the 3rd of March I sent her for a cheque-book—she brought it to me, and I put it into my desk, which I looked—I generally kept it locked up—I did not notice that any cheques had been taken out—on 9th March I drew the cheque produced for 20l., which being the first in the book, I remembered "1"—I gave it to the prisoner to get the cash forme, which she brought me—this 30l. cheque was not written by me or by my authority—I did not authorize the prisoner to get 30l. from the bank on that day—up to that time I had only drawn this one cheque for 20l.—when my bank-book came back I saw that I had been debited with this 30l.—I then communicated with the bank, and I took my cheque book to be examined.
Cross-examined. It was in the morning that I sent for the cheque-book—I received it from the prisoner in my dining-room—I believe I put it into my desk at once; I was writing at the time—I use my desk every day—it is possible that I may have gone out, leaving it open—the prisoner came into my service in January—she had previously been with Mr. Hyam, of Westbourne Terrace, where she had been living five years and a half—I had a very good character with her—there are other servants in the house.
Re-examined. I had good characters with them.
SAMUEL DOBELL (Detective Officer). On Tuesday evening, 28th March, I was sent for to Mrs. Stewart's—I saw the prisoner there—I told her I had come respecting a cheque that was drawn on the bank for 30l.—she said "I know nothing about it"—I told her that I was going to search her box to see if I could find any more cheques, and see what money she had got—she said "Do you think I am a thief?"—I said "I don't know, I don't say you are a thief"—I searched her box and found no money—all the money bhe had was three halfpence—I took her into custody.
Cross-examined. I asked her for the keys and she gave them up at once—she seemed very much put out about the charge.
The prisoner received a good character from Mr. Hyam, of Westbourne Terrace.
GUILTY of uttering —Recommended to mercy by the Jury and Prosecutrix, on account of her age and previous good character.
427. PHILIP CANN (26) , to feloniously forging and uttering an order for 16l., with intent to defraud; also obtaining 8l. 6s., 4d., from Charles Grant, by false pretences— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
429. WILLIAM JONES (30), and WILLIAM SNOW (18) , to a burglary in the dwelling-house of William Pullinger, and stealing therein 5s., JONES*— Eighteen Months' Improsonment. SNOW— Six Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. M. WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLNY the Defenes.
JOHN BROWN . I am head barman to Mr. Rudkta, at the Groffins in the New Meat Market—I have been in his employment about three months—the Griffins stands at the corner of the market, facing Charter House Street, In what is called the "A" avenue—the entrances to the house are in the market—the entrance where the stuff is delivered is through the market gatts—on 4th May, some gin was delivered from Messrs. Nichobon & Co., at the Griffins—the gin drawn out from the cask which, stands in the van, into the gallon copper cans, which are very small at the neck—Fielding was the carman who came with the van—it was his duty to fill the cams, and he carried them from the cart as far as the door, and they were carried up stairs by another man, in the same employ—I had watch the delivery of the gin on the day in question—they commenced to take the him in about 3.15 on the afternoon of the 4th—I knew the prisoner by sight, as a beadle in the market—shortly before 4 o'clock he came to my master's place, and said How about the gates, young man may I close them?—I said "No, I think you had better leave them open till we get-the gin in which will not be long"—the gates are closed on that day at 4 o'clock, on other days they are closed at different times—he said "All right I" and went out—he came in agin shortly afterrwards and said "Young man, have you got a small bottle you can lend me?"—I said "No, we don't keep them in this house"—he said "Have you got a soda-water bottle you can land me?—I them lent him a lemonade bottle, with a flat bottom—I first gave it to him without a cork—he asked me to put a cork in, which I did—he put the bottle in his pocket, and went out—out—the bottle I lent him was like this one (produced)—I believe this was the one—the one I lent him had "Culver house" on it the same as this—I waited in the bar a moment or two, and saw the man go out with the empty cans they fetched the gin in—I jumped over the bar, and went up a few star is, and looked out of a window which commanded a view of the cart—I saw the distiller's man fill a can and bring it in the market gates—I could not see any more from that window, so I went to another window and looked out—I saw the man again with the can—he placed it on the ground, and turned his back towards it, to look out of the
market, at his cart—I then saw the prisoner coma tip the avenue, where he turned down in the first place—he stood behind the can, and looked round each way, put his hand in his pocket, and took out the bottle, took out the cork, and placed the bottle in the can—I got down from the window, thinking I would go and catch him in the act, but I afterwards got up to the window again, and saw him putting his hand in his pocket; whether he had the bottle in it or not I can't say—I then went to the manager, and gave him information—I went out to see if I could find the beadle Roberts—I went up to the gates to see whether he had gone out of the market—I met him in the market as I was going back—I said "Mr. Jones wishes to see you"—Mr. Jones is the managing man—he said "Mr. Jones, what does he want me for?"—Mr. Jones then came up, and I heard him ask the prisoner for the bottle of gin he had in his possession—the prisoner said "What gin?"—Mr. Jones said "Come back with me," and he went back—I can't say that he was given in charge at that time—he was afterwards taken to the office of Mr. Stevens, the superintendent of the market, and searched, but no gin was found upon him.
Cross-examined. I should say all this occupied about twenty minutes; from the time he came in and spoke about the gates to the time that he was searched—I am not in Mr. Rudkin's service now—I left last Wednesday—I was only there three months—I never had any dispute with the prisoner—when the gin is in the copper vessels, and is taken into Mr. Rudkin's place, there is someone to mark them off with a chalk mark, and to see that they are full—if I saw that the cans were not full I should call attention to them—I did not see any of the cans not full on this day—I have not the slightest doubt that the bottle will go into the mouth of the can—the can is about 4 in. in diameter, and the bottle is about 2 in.—it will go in easily, I should imagine—I looked out of two windows—they both have ground glass; it is ornamental ground glass—you can see through very easily where there is a star—from the time I left the window till I met the prisoner in the market, and told him Mr. Jones wanted him, I should imagine was about five minutes—I only ran from the top of the house, and out to the market gates—I don't know whether Mr. Rudkin is here—on the occasion of the prisoner being searched no one gave him in charge—he did not ask to be given in charge—he said "Do you give me in charge for having the giu?"—that was when I stopped him—he was asked about the gin he had in his possession, and he said "What gin?" and I suppose something more was said, and he said "Do you give me in charge?" like anyone saying it defiantly, daring him to do it—he was taken to Mr. Stephens' office—he insisted on being searched—I don't know whether there is anyone from Nicholson's here—I believe Fielding is here—I don't know that Fielding took any part in the stealing; that is a thing I know nothing at all about—he was looking after his syphon, or anyone might have put a can under, and drawn off a pint of spirits in a moment—he never ought to have left the tap—he brought it from the cart, and another young man took it up stairs—I don't know a witness named Anglis at all, not by name—I was in Mr. Graves' service, in Church Street, Edgware Road, before I went to Mr. Rudkin's—I gave him notice the day before I left—he said he was going to make an alteration, and he has got a female now in my place.
Re-examined. No fault was found with me—he has offered to give me a good reference if I apply for it.
4th May, the prisoner was brought to my office, and charged with stealing gin—he was searched, but nothing was found on him—I gave instructions to a constable named Hart up to go and make inquiries of a labourer who lives in the neighbourhood of Newgate Street, about a third of a mile from Mr. Rudkin's—Hart up brought a bottle back with him with some gin in it—I gave that bottle to Mr. Rudkin on the following evening.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was one of the market constables—there are a number of constables there—he has been in the service about two years—he was only a night watchman at first, and he was afterwards made into a day constable for his good conduct—he was very strict in seeing that persons were summoned if they did not do their duty—he had been a police-officer before he came to the office—he had a good recommendation from the Commissioner of Police, and he has borne a good character up to this time—he was taken into custody on the following Monday, and this was on the Thursday—the bottle was brought to me on the Thursday, and I knew everything then that I know now—I had nothing to do with the prosecution.
Re-examined. I said before the Magistrate that he had borne a good character, the only circumstance against him was that he signed the attendance book in the market, entitling to extra pay.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Did he correct that error on the following evening? A. Yes—he corrected it without my seeing him at all.
JAMES HARTUP . I am a constable in the Metropolitan Meat Market—on Thursday, 4th May, Mr. Stephens gave me instructions to go to Anglis, a labourer, and I received from him a bottle with something in—I did not take the cork out—I saw it produced at the Police Court—I have no doubt that it contained gin—I gave it to Mr. Stevens.
Cross-examined. The bottle contained about the same as it does now—I have known the prisoner about two years—he was a fellow servant—during the whole of that time he has borne a good character, and conducted himself properly, without any complaint against him.
WILLIAM ANGLIS . I am a labourer, and live at Oxford Arms Passage—on Thursday, 4th May, the prisoner came to me in the market and said "Take care of this bottle of gin for me;" and he handed me a bottle of gin—I put it in my pocket and kept it there about an hour—it was in my pocket all the time—I did have a drop of it—I took it out when I was in the market—when I put it in my pocket I went down the market—I was about a quarter of a mile from Mr. Rudkin's when the prisoner gave it me—the bottle I gave to Hartup was the bottle I received from the prisoner—I did not take it home—it was a bottle like this.
Cross-examined. There was no one present but the prisoner when the bottle of gin was given to me—it was given to me in "B" Avenue—I am not sure that it was not A or C—I am not sure at all—I have not said that I thought it was a present—I have not been examined before—I was not examined before the Magistrate—I am William Anglis—I was not examined before the Magistrate at all, or asked any questions—I was not at Guildhall before Alderman Stone, to my knowledge—I don't believe I was there as a witness—I was not there to my knowledge at all.
JOHN FIELDING . I was a carman in the employ of Messrs. Nicholson, on the 4th May—on that day I delivered some gin at Mr. Rudkin's—I filled the cans and another man carried them to the spirit-room—I recollect putting one of the cans down opposite the door—I walked a little way
from the can to watch my syphon—I went back again and looked at the can—I am not positive whether it was in the same state that I left it—in consequence of what I saw in the can I went back again to the cask and filled it up—that was in consequence of its not being full.
Cross-examined. I was not quite sure whether I omitted to fill it myself, and I went back and filled it—I am not in Messrs. Nicholson's employment now—I am suspended at the present time.
EDMUND POLLENDINE . I am clerk and salesman to Messrs. Nicholson & Co., the distillers, of Clerkenwell—I have tasted the gin produced, and I should say it is gin manufactured by our firm—it is some of the same gin that was delivered at Mr. Rudkin's.
Cross-examined. I have not had the management of this prosecution—our solicitors have—as soon as Mr. Nicholson heard of this transaction he said "We must prosecute"—I heard that from his own lips—I took a very small quantity out of the bottle when I tasted it.
Re-examined. Messrs. Nash, Field, & Lake, are Messrs. Nicholson's attornies.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, June 5th, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE BROWN the Defence.
MARY ANN COLE . On 10th April, I was assisting at the refreshment-bar of the Zoological Gardens, and served the female prisoner with a glass of sherry, which came to 6d.—she gave me a crown, and I gave her 4s., 6d. change—she drank part only of the wine, and went away—my suspicions were aroused, and I spoke to Mr. Trotman, the proprietor, by whose directions I fetched her back, and told her she had given me a bad crown—she said she was not aware of it—she was given in custody, with the crown.
FREDERICK TROTMAN . I am proprietor of the refreshment-room at the Zoological Gardens—the last witness was my barmaid—on 10th April, she handed me a counterfeit crown—I sent her out, and she brought back the female prisoner—I told her it was a bad crown—she said she did not know it—I asked her name and address—she declined to give it, and I gave her in custody, with the crown—she said that she had no other money.
Cross-examined. She was alone.
THOMAS ROWLAND (Police Sergeant S 24). The female prisoner was given into my charge, with this crown (produced)—she declined to give any account of herself, and denied having any more money—I said "Give me your purse"—she did so, and I found in it a half-sovereign, 4s., 60d., and 2d., good money—she said that she received the 4s., 6d. in change for the crown—she was taken to Marylebone Police Court, remanded, and discharged—she gave her name, "Johnson."
Cross-examined. Her description was circulated among the constables,
but I could not find out where she lived—I first heard the name of Williams when I was sent for by the Treasury solicitor—I knew she was indicted in the name of Williams—I saw them charged together at Clerkenwell Police Court—I cannot say whether she gave her name there as Williams—I had no conversation with her, or with the man.
JAMES BRANNAN . I am a detective officer, employed by the Treasury in coining cases—in consequence of information, I went with Fife, Price, Brannan, and other officers, to a house in Coldbath Square, Clerkenwell—the door was open—it was about 9.30 in the morning—we went up to the second floor front room—I opened the door, and found the female prisoner standing just inside—she said "You are wrong; next door, Sir"—I went in, and found the male prisoner in bed—I addressed him as Williams, and told him my name was Brannan, and he was suspected of coining, and I had received instructions from the solicitor to the Treasury to look after him as a coiner—he said "All right"—I found, in a cupboard, near the fire-place, a plaster-of-Paris mould for making half-crowns, the obverse and reverse sides complete, two galvanic batteries, three pair of iron clams, files with white metals in their teeth, as if recently used, a quantity of mixed metal, solder, filings of granulated metal, knives and scissors, with plaster adhering to them, bottles of acid, and plaster-of-Paris, in powder—under the bed was a bushel basket, full of plaster-of-Paris, broken up, which I believe had been moulds; the impressions were partly effaced; six counterfeit crowns, thirty-one counterfeit half-crowns, and a number of shillings and ten-franc pieces—I gave the room up to the landlady, with a request that nobody should be admitted till I returned, as I was engaged at Clerkenwell Police Court; but next morning, she gave me a crown, a half-crown, seven shillings, and these three letters—there were all the materials for making, colouring, and coating counterfeit coin, wires, screws, and porous pots—I compared the half-crowns with the mould, and they corresponded; they also correspond in date with a good crown I found there, and with the crown uttered by the female prisoner at the Zoological Gardens—the male prisoner said, in the female prisoner's presence, "The woman is innocent"—she said nothing.
Cross-examined. It was a small room, with one bed in it—the male prisoner was in bed—he said "Don't hurt her; she is innocent"—I do not think he said "Don't hurt my wife," but I will not positively swear it—I have known him for years, and have had my eye upon him—I have not seen the woman with him, but I have seen her going to the house—I know her, but I am afraid my knowledge will not serve you much—I saw her two or three days before this—they only had one bed-room.
JOHN FIFE (Police Inspector). I accompanied Mr. Brannan—I found in a cupboard several bottles of acid, and under the bed a great number of broken moulds, in a large basket, and in a drawer four half-crowns, and two ten-franc pieces, all bad—this tin box, full of counterfeit coin, was in one of the drawers—I handed it to Inspector Brannan.
Cross-examined. I have known the woman by sight about a fortnight.
EMILY CHAPMAN . I am the wife of William Chapman, of 7, Coldbath Square—the prisoners have lodged there since 7th February, when the female prisoner took the lodgings—she lived with the male prisoner, in the back room second floor—she paid the rent, which was 6s., 6d. a week—I was at home when the officers came, and received instructions from Mr. Brannan—I kept the room locked from the time the prisoners were taken—I afterwards
went up to open the window, and saw a piece of paper on the drawers—I picked it up—it contained seven bad shillings and a bad half-crown—I also found these three letters, marked 1, 2, 3, and handed them to Brannan.
Cross-examined. We had a satisfactory reference with the prisoners, from 6, Yardley Street—the prisoners represented themselves as man and wife, but I know nothing about it—I should not have had them there otherwise; I would not have disgraced the house—they lived together as man and wife, and passed by the same name—I have never seen either of them write, and do not know in whose writing these letters are—they were all in one envelope, which had no address; it was blank.
MR. BROWN contended that the letters could not be put in evidence, the writing not being proved. MR. CRAUFURD submitted that they were part of the res gestae, and that the Jury were entitled to see all the property found in the room. THE COURT considered that as the male prisoner had pleaded guilty, the letters could not be given in evidence as against the female Prisoner.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This crown is bad, and this is the pattern from which it was made; these six other crowns are from the same mould—here are all the requisite apparati for making counterfeit coin—they could not be for any other purpose.
MR. H. BROWN submitted that there was no evidence of possession by the woman, she being only indicted for the possession of the mould; and further, that she must be acquitted, she being the reputed wife of the male Prisoner. THE COURT considered that it was a question for the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BOTTOMLEY the Defence.
ELLEN JULIA KNIGHT . I am barmaid at the Spread Eagle, Charles Street, Middlesex Hospital—on 1st May I served the prisoner with 2d. worth of gin and bitters—he gave me a shilling—I bent it, put it back, and said it was bad—he said that a friend of his gave it to him, and gave me a good six-pence—I gave him the change and he took the bad shilling away—on Saturday, 6th May, about 5.15 o'clock, he came again—I recognized him when he came in—he asked for 2d. worth of bitters, and gave me a shilling—I bent it, it was bad, and I rang for the landlord—I said "This is the second bad shilling you have given me this week"—he said nothing, but ran away—the landlord came, and I went to the door and pointed the prisoner out to him, running across the road—he had left his drink on the counter, and also the bad shilling—Mr. Hornby brought him back, and I told Mr. Hornby in his presence that he had given me a bad shilling—he said nothing.
Cross-examined. I had never seen him before 1st May—he was dressed as he is now—he pulled out some other silver, I do not know whether it was good or bad—he did not ask for the bad shilling back, he ran away.
STEPHEN HORNBY . I keep the Spread Eagle—on 6th May, I was in the billiard-room when the bell rang, which is a private signal for me—I went into the bar and saw the barmaid at the door, she pointed out the prisoner, and I ran after him and a man who was with him—I caught him 150 yards down Bernard Street—he said that he would not come back—I said "Then the best man for it"—my potman came up and helped me to take him—the barmaid gave me a bad shilling, which I handed to the constable.
Cross-examined. He was running about forty yards from my door when I saw him first—I did not know him before.
ROBERT MORROW (Policeman E R 39). I took the prisoner, and received this bad shilling from Mr. Hornby—he said "I am a respectable man and respectably connected"—he refused his address—I found on him five half-crowns and a sixpence in good money.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
MARY BURGESS . My husband keeps the Elephant and Castle, Great Peter Street, Westminster—on Monday, 22nd May, the prisoner and a young man came in—she called for a half-quartern of gin and tendered a shilling, I put it in the test and found it was bad—she said to the man "She says it is a bad one"—my husband came in and said "Yes, it is a very bad one"—the prisoner put down another shilling, and that also was bad—my husband said "Where did you get this money?"—she said "At Mr. Eason's, the Queen's Head, at the corner of Marsham Street, in change of a half-crown."
Cross-examined. She had the second shilling in her hand—as soon as the man found the money was bad, he left her—the gin was left on the counter—my husband went with her to Mr. Eason's, she did not object in the least.
JOHK BURGESS . I keep the Elephant and Castle—about 11 o'clock on this night, I heard my wife say "This is a bad shilling"—I went in, the second shilling had then been tendered—I told the prisoner she would have no objection to accompany me to Mr. Eason's, which she willingly did—that is about 300 yards from my house—I called the four barmen together, and said in her presence that she had received 2s., 2d. in change for a half-crown for a pot of half-and-half about twenty minutes ago—that would be about 10.40—the man who served her said "She paid me with a sixpence, and I returned her 2d. change"—she pointed out the potman, who the said served her, but he said that he did not.
Prisoner. No, I pointed out the barman. Witness. The man she pointed out said that he did not serve her, and then the potman spoke up and said that he had changed a sixpence—she then said that she had received two bad shillings from the barman, and I believe she said that it was false, and held that it was the barman who had served her.
Cross-examined. The barman is not here, but the potman is—a pot of half-and-half would be 4d., and the change of a half-crown would be 2s., 2d.
HENRY JOHN HENLEY . I am potman and barman at the Queen's Head—on Monday evening, 22nd May, at 10.40 o'clock, as near as possible, the prisoner came in and called for a pot of 4d. half-and-half—I did not serve her, but after she was served, she paid me with a sixpence, and I gave her two penny pieces in change—another young man drew the beer, and I put it on the counter—she afterwards came back with Mr. Burgess and said that she had paid with a half-crown, which I said was not true.
Cross-examined. There are four men on the establishment—I heard her say that I was not the man who served her—it is a large business; what they call a good drawing trade—about twenty people were in the bar at that time, but sometimes we have seventy or eighty—the last person I served before her was a male—I cannot say what change I gave him.
SOLOMON ESTCOURT (Policeman B 74). I took the prisoner at the Queen's Head—she said nothing to the charge—Mr. Burgess gave me these two bad shillings (produced)—the prisoner was searched at the station, and 2d. in copper found on her.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. I went to Mr. Eason's, my son was there—he gave me a half-crown—I paid for a pot of beer, and received 2 1/2 d. change, from a short, stout young man—I went to the Elephant and Castle, and called for the gin—I was not aware the shilling was bad—I told Mrs. Burgess where I got it—I gave her another shilling, and she said that was bad also, and I was willing to go to Mr. Easou's.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ANN JOKES . I know the prisoner—I have seen her twice—on 11th May, I was coming over Lambeth Bridge, met Margaret Ellis, and she said, "Will you come with me?" I said "Yes," and we went to the Queen's Head, and had a quartern of gin—shortly afterwards Charles Corbet, her son, came in, we asked him to drink, and he drank with us—the prisoner then came in, and said "Charley, do you want any supper?"—he said "Yes," and she gave him a half-crown, and I saw her put it down on the counter, and receive the change.
Cross-examined. This was on 22nd May, between 10 and 11 in the evening—it was after 11.30 when I got home—the prisoner came into the Queen's Head to ask her son for some money for the supper—I was standing at the bar—I did not notice who served her, but I think it was a rather stout bar-man, and not tall—the one who is here to-day is not the one who served her; I am sure of that; it would do me no good to stand here and tell such untruths—I came here because I heard that they had taken Mrs. Corbet, and I said "She is quite innocent."
COURT. Q. Were you at the Queen's Head when you heard that? A. Yes—I heard that she was taken for two bad shillings—I then went home—I did not wish to disgrace my parents, by getting into a bother with it—I did not want to get locked up, and disgrace my family.
MR. CRAUFURD. Q. How long did you remain after the pot of beer was handed to her? A. I drank out of it, and so did Charles Corbet, and others—the whole of the beer was not finished before she left—she went out, and wished us "Good-night"—I was standing at the door, wishing Margaret Ellis "Good-night," when the prisoner came back with a gentleman—I stood there talking, and the other young woman went and interfered—I went in, and said that I saw her receive them, and they said that we were connected, or in company—I said I was not connected—I did not speak to Mr. Burgess, but I said it before them all, and then I wont home, because I did not want to be locked up—I have seen her twice in my life; the other time she was with her son, who I have known two years—I said "Good evening, Mrs. Corbet"—I knew her name, because her son said "This is my mother."
Re-examined. There was a good deal of talk about it, after she was brought back.
COURT to H. J. HENLET. Q. Did you sec this young woman there, that night? A. Not when they brought the prisoner back, but she had been there before, and a he drank some of the beer with the prisoner and her son—I did not hear her say what she says.
MR. H. BROWN. Q. Were there a good many people there when the prisoner was charged? A. About three persons, one of whom said that she had
been in his bar a week previous, and attempted to pan a bad shilling, and he doubled it up, and took no notice of it—the prisoner said nothing—the son was not there after his mother was brought back.
Prisoner. Oh! what a story.
MARGARET ELLISON . I was at the Queen's Head on the night of 22nd May—Ann Jones was there, and Mrs. Corbet's son, and more people—we were all in there together—I called for a quartern of gin, and the prisoner called for something—she got the money from her son—I do not know what be gave her, but she paid with a half-crown, and got 2s., 2d. change.
Cross-examined. It was on a Monday, and, as near as I can judge, about 11 o'clock in the evening—I went into the house about 10.30—Ann Jones was with me—the prisoner came in about ten minutes after me, but her son was there when I went in—I do not know how she got the half-crown; her son must have given it to her, I believe—I did not hear them say anything to one another—I partook of the beer, and so did Ann Jones—the prisoner passed it round to the people—I remained about twenty minutes—the prisoner left before me, and when she was brought back, Jones and I were going up Peter Street—we were about five minutes' walk from the Queen's Head—we went back, and the policeman said that we were both connected, and took me to the station, but the Inspector turned me out—Jones ran away—I had never seen the prisoner before, but I have known her son two years as a hard-working chap.
CHARLES CORBET . The prisoner is my mother—we live at Westminster—I was at the Queen's Head on this night, and my mother came in, and asked me for some money—I gave her a half-crown, and told her to pay for some beer—she called for a pot of half-and-half, which came to 4d.—she gave them the half-crown I gave her, and I saw the change, two shillings, and two pence.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether she put the change in her pocket, or kept it in her hand, under her shawl—she asked me for some money for supper—I said "Here is a half-crown, get a drop of beer, and pay for the supper with the rest, and get a bit of fish and taters" as it was late—I did not ask her to get any gin—I was not there when she was brought back—I never heard of it till next morning—I came away with two young women, and shook hands, and wished them "Good-night"—I turned to the right, and they to the left, towards Peter Street—I walked up the street in which the Queen's Head is, and I could see the door of it a great way up the street—I did not go with my mother from the Queen's Head to Mr. Burgess—I never saw her after she loft the bar—I never went outside the door with her—I was surprised that I did not get any supper that night, and I sat up till 2 o'clock—I did not know whether my mother had met my cousin, and gone out nursing; she does sometimes—I know Ann Jones—I am not keeping company with her—I know Margaret Ellison, in the same way; neither of them come to my house.
J. BURGESS (Re-examined). I know Corbet by his coming to my house the following day.
NOT GUILTY .
MARTIN PLEADED GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and HUMPHREYS conducted the Protecution.
Road—on the evening of 9th May, between 5 and 6 o'clock, Malyon came in for 1 1/2 d. worth of gin and peppermint—the barman, Capson, served her, and I saw her give him a bad shilling, which he gave to me, without my losing sight of it—I said "This is bad"—she did not answer—I called my father, and told him—she was allowed to go, but we kept the coin.
JAMES HUGHES . I keep the Admiral Keppel—on 9th May I received this bad shilling from my son—I told Malyon it was bad, and she asked for a half-pint of beer, and put down a penny, but I refused to serve her, and she went away—I went out, and met Knight, and told him to follow her—I also followed, and saw her with Martin, hardly 400 yards from my house—I followed them to the Gloucester, public-house—they did not go in there—I saw them both taken—I gave up the shilling at the station—Malyon then said that she never saw me before.
Malyon. I never saw you before. Witness. When you left the shop, you never got out of my sight, except that you went into the Pelham and came out again.
DANIEL KNIGHT . I live at 81, Fulham Road—on Tuesday evening, 9th May, Mr. Hughes pointed Malyon out to me, and I followed her—I afterwards saw both the prisoners together, 200 or 300 yards from the Pelham Arms, where Malyon went in—I followed them through several streets, pointed them out to the police, and they were taken.
Malyon. You never saw me with this man; I do not know him, he is a stranger to me.
WILLIAM ACKRELL (Police Sergeant T R 4). I was on duty in Gloucester Road—Knight pointed out the prisoner to Aherne, and we followed them—I stopped Martin, and told him he was suspected of having counterfeit coin in his possession—he put his hand to his mouth, and said "Here is the b——poke," and shoved something into his mouth—I saw tissue paper in his hand—I seized him by the throat, and felt him swallow something; the other sergeant caught hold of him, and almost choked him, and he spat out three florins and a shilling, all bad, and this piece of tissue-paper, into the sergeant's hand, and said "That is all I have about me"—at the station I found this other bad florin in his coat pocket, and a halfpenny—I received this coin (produced) from Mr. Hughes.
ROBERT AHERNE (Police Sergeant T R). I was with Ackrell—the prisoners were pointed out to me, walking and talking together—I took Malyon, and told her she was charged with uttering a shilling, at the Admiral Keppel—she said that she knew nothing at all about the man; she never saw him before.
Malyon's Defence. I am quite innocent; I do not know this man.
MALYON— GUILTY — Eight Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, June 6th, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Street—the prisoner came to me at the beginning of March—I had known him for some years—he said that he was doing a good business as a watchmaker; that he was patronized by Lord Lindsay, and asked if I could get him a partner—he made it appear so good that I took some trouble about it, with a view of getting him a partner—about ten days afterwards he brought me a bill for 62l. 10s., and asked me to get it discounted for him—I did, and he had the money—about 25th March he brought me this bill for 350l., and asked me to get it discounted—it purports to be accepted by Lord Lindsay—I did not undertake immediately to get it discounted; he gave me some references to two or three opticians—I sent my clerk to make enquiries, and after that wrote to my client, who had discounted the previous bill—I remarked to the prisoner that the bill was not made payable at a banker's—he took it away, and brought it back two or three days afterwards, and said his lordship declined to make it payable at a banker's, as he did not accept bills, and if he could not make use of it in that way, he was to bring it back again—ray client afterwards discounted the bill—I told the prisoner I would discount it if he would deduct the amount of the running bill, and upon those terms it was done—he had about 250l. at that time—the bill was dishonoured.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner five or six years—he is married, and he told me he had children—I don't know how many—he is a watchmaker—I have acted for him as a solicitor—I did not know that about this time he was very much pressed by his creditors for money—I had a high opinion of him, or I should not have taken any trouble about the bill—I never heard of a person named Darby till I saw him in this case—I don't know that he is a witness in this particular case; I have seen him here.
LORD LINDSAY. I live at 47, Brook Street—I have known the prisoner about a year—I have employed him to make astronomical instruments—this bill was not accepted by me—it was not presented to me—I heard of it before it was due—I had not given the prisoner any authority to sign my name—this is not my signature.
Cross-examined. I perfectly believed in the prisoner's honesty till this bill was presented to me, and in his skill as a workman—I knew nothing of his private matters, except that he once asked me to lend him some money, which I did, about a month before one of these bills became due—I lent him 20l.
MR. GRIFFITHS here stated that he could not resist the evidence.
There were two other indictments against the Prisoner.
Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. SHEILL conducted the Prosecution; and MR. THORNE COLE the Defence.
PHILIP PEEK . I live at 4, Albert Terrace, Hackney—on 17th April, about 11.30, I was coming along the Hackney Road—the prisoner came up in front of me at the corner of a public-house in Union Street, when within two or three feet of me he made a snatch at my chain—I turned round and caught him by the collar—we struggled, I pulled him to the light of the public-house, that I might be able to see his face to identify him at any future time—he succeeded in snatching a portion of my chain—I saved my watch by my hand, and while I had my hand on his collar another man came up from behind me and struck me a heavy blow—I was
then compelled to let the prisoner go—the blow broke my arm in two places, and fractured the centre bone in three places, and blood flowed—both the men escaped—I next saw the prisoner on 5th May, in the Worship Street Court-yard—he was amongst a number of others—I identified him, and picked him out readily.
Cross-examined. There were seven or eight men placed in the yard—I don't know whether there were any policemen amongst them—I can't say whether the officer in the case was present—the men were all of the same height as near as possible—I did not indentify the prisoner by his clothes—he had light clothes on then—when I was attacked he had dark clothes—there were several officers there when I picked him out, five or six in uniform—they were not standing near me, they were at the door—I walked down the row of men once, he was in the centre—I was perfectly sober on the night I was attacked—the transaction might have occupied half a minute, or a minute—we struggled—it was just in front of the public-house window.
Re-examined. There was a full blaze of light from the window—I could see his face, because I turned his face to the light.
Cross-examined. I was at the police-station yard when the prosecutor pointed the prisoner out—there were several officers there—I was standing by the door; there were other officers with me—I believe the gaoler was standing by the entrance to the cells, no other officer.
MR. COLE (referring to the case of "Campbell and Calbraith," Sessions Paper, Vol. lxxiii., page 455) requested that he might be relieved from addressing the Jury on the more aggravated form of charge, vis.: robbery with violence, as there was no proof that the prisoner in any way participated in this act of violence of the other man. THE RECORDER considered it was a question for the Jury whether they were acting in concert in the violence as well as in the robbery.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of robbery withmit violence — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
441. WILLIAM HALL (37), GEORGE ROBINSON (39), and JOHN ADAMS (36) , Feloniously breaking and entering the warehouse of Charles Brumlue, and stealing therein two cwt. of saffron, his property—Second Count—Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON defended Hall
JOHN TERRY . I am warehouseman and clerk to Mr. Charles Brumlue, a drug merchant, of 9, Mincing Lane—he has also a warehouse at 8, Billiter Street—on Monday afternoon, 17th April, I locked up the warehouse perfectly safe—it was fastened with a patent padlock bar, and another lock besides, which locked the door—on the following morning, between 10 and 11 o'clock, I found the padlock had been taken away, and an old padlock substituted—I could not open it with my key—it was forced open, and I found that a box of saffron had been taken away—it contained about 2 cwt, and was worth more than 250l.—there were three inferior qualities, but that would be the value, striking an average—I found a crowbar standing against a bag of seed—here is a piece of paper which was afterwards found in the saffron—it was torn from a piece that was in the warehouse—it has
some of my writing on it—it was torn from this large piece—a port of the saffron was worth 45s., per lb.; the lowest quality is about 10s., per lb.
JOHN MOSS (City Detective Sergeant). I received information of this robbery on 18th April—on Saturday, 22nd April, I received some information from Mr. Gabriel, in consequence of which I went to his premises in White Street, Moorfields—after I had been there a short time, Robinson came in—he produced two parcels to Mr. Gabriel, weighing 14lbs. he was showing it to Mr. Gabriel, when I said to him "Robinson, how do you account for the possession of this saffron?"—he said "Well, I will tell you the truth"—he then told me that he had received it from Hall that morning—I said "Where?"—he said "At the public-house down the Bow Road"—I said "Do you know any other person in this matter?"—he said "These two parcels were handed to me by another person that was with Hall, and he rode as far as Whitechapel Church with me, by the tramway"—he said he did not know the man's name—I said "When are you to see that man again?"—he said "I have to meet him at a public-house facing King William's statue about 11 o'clock"—I asked him how he was dressed; he described him—I said "And when have you to see Hall again"—he said "After I have seen this man at this public-house; I had a sample given me of this saffron last Wednesday morning, and that is all I know of the matter"—I said "Very well, I will test your statement; consider yourself in custody, I shall take care you don't escape"—he walked before me to the White Bear public-house in King William Street—I there saw Adams,—I did not know him before; from what I saw I said to him "Did you give this man two parcels this morning?"—he appeared somewhat confused, and made no answer—I turned to Robinson and said "Is this the man that gave you these parcels?"—he said "Yes"—I said "I shall charge you with being concerned with Robinson and others, in stealing a large quantity of saffron, on 18th April, and also with receiving"—I then conveyed Robinson and Adams to the Tower Street Police Station—I did not nee that Adams went out from the public-house after he came in—Child and Downs were with me—I was looking after another person at the time—after lodging Adams at the station I directed Robinson to keep the other appointment with Hall—I went to Smith's public-house in Bishopsgate Street—Hughes came in, he had a conversation with Robinson, and then left—(Hughes was afterwards taken into custody, and has committed suicide)—shortly after, I saw Hall enter the public-house—I walked round to the same compartment that Hall and Robinson were in, and from something Robinson said to Hall, Hall said to Robinson "I thought there would be some mess in this job"—I then spoke to Hall, and told him that I should charge him with being concerned with Robinson, Adams, and others, in the stealing and receiving of this saffron—he said "Adams knows nothing more about this than carrying the parcels for me, I will take all the responsibility myself"—he said "You have been a little too fast in this; if you had not been so fast, you might have recovered all the property"—I said "I can't help that"—I then conveyed him to the station and charged them—I think I ought to mention, perhaps, what caused him to make that remark; I had almost directly after the robbery given directions to a constable named Obee to call upon Hall, and Hall said he should have communicated with us, or something to that effect, but that I was too fast in the matter—he did not say anything about Obee—he said "You. have been too fast in the matter: if you had not been too fast perhaps you
would have recovered the whole of the property"—after they were charged, Hall said he wished to make a statement—I took him apart, and he then said "The saffron was all taken to my house on the Tuesday morning (that was the morning of the robbery, the 18th), and you will find it there now, or rather it was there this morning when I left; if you don't find it there you must go to Hughes, he ought to know where it is"—he told me Hughes was to be found at 26, St. Peter Street, Hackney Road—I knew that—I afterwards went to Kenilworth House, Wellington Road, Bow, where Hall lived—there was a strong smell of saffron in the house, and I saw small traces of saffron about the passage and just outside the door—it was a wet morning, and the colour was running a little—I was accompanied by Childs and Downs—we searched the house thoroughly, and could not find the bulk of the saffron there—I then went to Adams' house, which is thirty or forty yards from Hall's—I there found three bags, containing about 150lbs. of saffron, in the kitchen—I saw Adams' daughter there, she showed me where it was—I had seen her in Hall's house a few minutes previously—I took the saffron to the station—I saw Adams, and told him that we had found three bags containing saffron at his house—he said "Well, it was not there this morning when I left"—I then saw Hall, and told him we had been to his house and found the saffron at Adams'—he said it was at his (Hall's) house that morning when he left—he said he had borrowed from Mr. Smith, the landlord of the public-house where I had seen him in Bishopsgate Street, 166l., which he had paid over to Hughes on account of this saffron.
Cross-examined. He said he had lent Hughes 166l. on four tons of saffron, and that he had borrowed the money from Smith—Hughes called himself a drysalter and chemist—he had a chemist's shop, and was a dealer in chemicals—I have not made enquiries of Smith—I have no doubt that statement is correct—Hall has since told me that he paid him with a cheque, and that I could trace that cheque—I can't be positive whether he told me that at first—he has given several statements to me, and I may have confused one with the other—I have not tried to trace the cheque—I think he said that Hughes had repaid him 40l. of the money—he did not tell me what he was to get from Hughes for the loan; he expected to get 10l. from someone else—he did not mention Hughes—he said he was to get it from Mr. Boore, his master—he is a chemist and druggist, at the corner of Artillery Lane, Bishopsgate—Hall did not tell me what he had agreed to pay Smith for the loan; he did not say he was to pay him 1s., in the 1l.—I don't remember that—I would not be positive one way or the other—he might have said it—he has said it since, but not at the time—I had directed Obee to see Hall—Hall had not given me information on previous occasions—I can't say whether he has done so to the police—I never spoke to him before I took him into custody—he told me a great deal more than I have mentioned here—he told me subsequently that he had done all this by the direction of his master, Mr. Boore—he did not tell me that Hughes was the party that offered the saffron to Mr. Boore—I believe that was so, from other enquiries that I have made—I believe Hall has since said that Mr. Boore had told him to let Hughes have what money he wanted, and that he would be quite safe, as the saffron would be sent to his (Hall's) house as security for the loan—he also said that Mr. Boore had told him that he had bought it all, and had arranged to pay Hughes for it in two cheques, one on 29th April, and the other on 6th May—he also said that in consequence of his master's directions
he went to Mr. Smith, and had deposited two life policies with him as security—I don't remember his telling me that on 18th April Hughes called at Mr. Boore's, and that he (Hall) saw him, and told him that Mr. Boore was absent—he told me that Hughes frequently called at Mr. Boore's—I don't remember his telling me that the cheque which he gave to Hughes was actually handed to Hughes in Mr. Boore's house, or that Hughes told him that one bag contained 42lbs. weight of saffron—he told me 28lbs., in addition to what I have mentioned, had been sold by Hughes to a person named Goodrich—he said that Mr. Boore was to have received the whole of the saffron, but he (Hall) said "You can't have all, because 28lbs. has been sold by Hughes," not mentioning the name, I believe, and that Mr. Boore said "Very well, then the remainder you bring to my house, in 7lbs. and 14lbs., and I will have it all packed away in cases"—he said that in consequence of that he had given a sample from the 14lbs. to Robinson—I have no recollection of his telling me that he had mentioned to his master that the police were enquiring about 100lbs. weight of saffron stolen from Billiter Street—he said something about its being brought from the docks, but I understood that to have come from Hughes, that Hughes told Hall so; I would not be sure of it, but that is my impression—he has told me all through, that Mr. Boore had directed him to do all this—I knew that Obee had communicated with him beforehand—I don't remember his telling me that he had mentioned that to Mr. Boore, and that Mr. Boore said "We need not be afraid about that, because it has come from the dock"—I would not say it was not so, but I did not understand it so; I understand that that came from Hughes—Hall said his master had told him he had given 21s., per lb. for it—I also understood that from Hughes—Hall told me that Mr. Boore had promised to allow his wife 10s., a week, and to pay counsel for his defence; he did not say he would do that if he would not give information of these matters—he said that Mr. Boore had paid his wife 10s., a week, and had paid for a solicitor to defend him at the Mansion House, but that after he had made some statement at the Mansion House, all moneys had been stopped—when he said I had been too fast, I understood him to mean that if I had not been so fast, he might have given me information in reference to it—I have mentioned all these matters to the prosecution—I did not mention them to Mr. Evans, the solicitor, but it has been made known, the whole statement, to the Commissioner, and persons concerned—there was a lot of matter that I did not consider I ought to have exposed—I would rather not have said anything about it, because it referred to another person not before the Court—I mentioned all that I considered necessary—I have not mentioned to the solicitors all that I have told you, they have only just come into the matter, therefore, I have not had an opportunity of going into the—I case with them; I have had the management of this matter entirely myself have communicated to other persons connected with the prosecution the information that Hall gave to me.
COURT. Q. Who do you mean by "other persons?"A. The Lord Mayor, for instance, when the case was under investigation; that is what I mean—I was not aware these questions were going to be asked me.
Re-examined. The first mention about Mr. Boore was in a letter I received after the remand—in the statement Hall first made to me, he did not say a word about his master, not until the matter was under investigation.
directly go out—I went after him, and stopped him, and said "I am a police-officer, I believe you gave the man that you have just now spoken to two parcels this morning"—he said "No, I did not; I have never seen him before"—I said "You must go back, and we shall see"—as we were going back to the house he said "I have seen him a few times before"—Moss has described what took place when I took him back—I was at the police-station with Adams when Hall was brought in—I placed Adams in the dock with Hall, and Hall said to him "You are all right, don't you fear; I will take all your responsibility"—I apprehended Hughes in the Mile End Road—I saw the bags of saffron, and in one of them I found the piece of paper which Mr. Terry has looked at.
Adams. Q. Did you not speak to me in the street before you apprehended me? A. No, I did not come up and ask you "Are you looking for any office?"—I did not see you till you spoke to Robinson—you did not say "No, thank you, I have an appointment to meet a gentleman at 11 o'clock."
Cross-examined. Sergeant Moss conducted this prosecution at the Police Court—there was no attorney there for the prosecution—there were five or six remands—Moss procured the witnesses, and brought them there, and they were examined—Moss did not examine them, that I am aware of, nor suggest anything—I don't know who asked the questions—I did not hear any questions asked—when one witness was being examined, Moss suggested to Mr. Oke one question to be asked—I don't know when the attorney was instructed; I have never seen one—no attorney has communicated with me.
SAMUEL OBEE (City Policeman). By the direction of Sergeant Moss, on 19th April I went to Mr. Boore's warehouse—I did not see Hall there, but at a public-house, near—I called him out of the public-house, and said "Can I speak to you, Hall?—he said "Yes"—he came out, and I said to him "We have had a robbery in Billiter Street, Leaden hall Street, of a quantity of saffron, about 100lbs. weight; Sergeant Moss told me to come to you and ask you whether you have heard anything of it, or anything being brought round for sale; there was about 200lbs. odd lost, but in a rough way they have put it in the information about 100 and odd lbs?"—he said "No, I have heard nothing of the kind"—I said "There is 30l. reward offered, 10l. for the conviction of the thieves, and 20l. for the recovery of the property"—"he said "Well, if I should hear of anything, or if anything is offered for sale, I will let you know"—I said "Let Sergeant Moss know"—he said "No, I will let you know"—I said "It makes no difference, what you let me know, I shall let him know"—he said "Well, as soon as I hear of anything being offered for sale, I will let you know"—I saw him again next day, and the day after—I called on him each day, Thursday and Friday, for the purpose of asking him whether he had heard of anything being offered for sale anywhere—he said no, nothing of the kind had been offered; he had not heard of anything; as sure as he did, he would let me know.
Cross-examined. The last day that I had this conversation with him was on the Friday, the 21st, the day before he was taken into custody—I went to Mr. Boore's to enquire for him—I had known him for some time, being at work there—I did not expect to get the information from him; I thought, perhaps, it might be likely, by asking and making enquiry—I was sent there by Sergeant Moss, to make the enquiry—Hall has given me information before, but not information to detect anybody; the reverse—he told me of certain things once, and I went to make enquiry, and found out afterwards
that it was no such thing; what there wan, he had—I don't know, as a fact, that he has given information to the police on previous occasions—I have heard that he has been a witness in a case; I don't know it as a fact—I believe it was a case where the parties were convicted, but I was not present; that is what he has told me.
JOHN WARD . I live at 19, Christopher Street, and am employed by Mr. Edwards, a carman—on 22nd April, I went to Hall's house, in Wellington Road, Bow, about 1.30, and removed some goods—while there I saw Hughes, and his man—I saw them take some gunny bags out, and I saw them take them into Adams'—I afterwards saw them at the Mansion House—they looked the same sort of bags—I could not swear to them—I only saw two removed; they were taken from up stairs.
JOHN WILD GABRIEL . I am a wholesale druggist, in White Street, Moorfields—on Thursday, 20th April, about the middle of the day, Robinson came to me, and offered two samples of saffron—he asked 32s., per lb.—I suspected the transaction, and asked him to leave the samples, and call again next morning—he left me the two samples that I have here; they are worth 35s., and 45s.,—within a quarter of an hour after he left I sent off a communication to the police—next morning, when he came, I bargained with him for the quantity he told me there was—I put it down in his presence, 14lbs. of one parcel, and 28lbs. of the other; he was to let me have it at 31s., 6d.—I said "Well, I shall require 5 per cent, at all events"—he said he could not allow that—I said "Well, bring the parcels down at 4 o'clock this afternoon"—he said he could not bring them down then, but he would bring them the next day—I said he must give a fixed time, because Saturday being a short day, I should not have-much time to spare—he fixed for 10 o'clock—he came at 10 o'clock, and brought these two parcels of saffron—I had in the meantime arranged for Sergeant Moss to be at the back of the warehouse, in secret, and on a given signal the sergeant came forward—Robinson had just opened one parcel, at my dictation, and was just opening the other, when the Sergeant came up, and said "Well, Mr. Robinson, where did you get that?"—he said "I am selling it on commission"—Sergeant Moss then went into the rest, and I left it in his hands.
Robinson. Q. The day I brought you the sample, you asked me what was the price? A. Yes, and you told me 33s., per Lb.—I have no recollection of your telling me then that you had 14lbs., but it did not belong to you; you were selling it on commission; you gave me the quantity on the second day—when you came, on the 21st, it is very possible that I asked whether you could take any less per pound, if I took the lot; you said you would take off 6d. per pound if I would take the lot, and I said "Very good, you can bring all you have got—I was anxious to get as much as I could.
EDWARD RICHARD GOODRICH . I am an oilman and drysalter, of 344, Mile End Road—I deal in very few drugs—I gave up to Sergeant Moss 28lbs. of saffron—I got that from the deceased man, Hughes, on 14th April—this (produced) is the identical sample he brought to me on 14th April; the bulk was brought on the 19th, but I did not see it till the 20th—I gave 30s., per lb. for it, less 5 per cent.
Cross-examined. I had had a good many dealings with Hughes, extending over three years—I looked upon him as an honest, straightforward trader—should not have bought this saffron of a stranger—I bought saffron of him several times—he called on me weekly, as a wholesale drag dealer; he
had been calling round, I suppose, for four years—I had no dealings with him for the first twelve months—I had not made enquiries about him—he was a freeman of the Goldsmiths' Company—I was satisfied of his respectability, or I should have had no dealings with him—I found that he was a wholesale drug dealer—I had large dealings with him in oil of lavender, and after this transaction occurred I requested to be furnished with the particulars of it—I suppose I have paid him somewhere about 300l.
Re-examined. I have bought of him cheaper than this, I may say, in one respect—I did not know that the value of the saffron that I gave 28s., 6d. for was 45s.,—I know it now, from what I have heard here today—I could buy a similar sample to what I have here, at 40s.,—at the time I bought it I told Hughes it was very cheap, and I ordered 7lbs. of him, and then increased it to twenty.
The prisoners Robinson and Adams, in their defence, alleged that they were merely employed by Hall to sell saffron on commission.
HALL— GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
ROBINSON and ADAMS— NOT GUILTY .
442. GEORGE COMPORT (26) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 73l. of the Directors of the London and County Bank, his masters. He received an excellent character, and was strongly recommended to mercy by the prosecutors— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
443. GEORGE HOWARD BROWN (16) , to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 200l., with intent to defraud— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
444. ALFRED WARD GALLOWAY (33) , to stealing 175l., of William Henry Rennols, his master; also to forging and uttering an office copy of a certificate of the Accountant-General of the Court of Chancery— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM COLLIS . I live at 3, Greencoat Row, Westminster, and am fore-man at Mr. Downey's cab-yard, Buckingham Cottages—on Saturday night, about 12.30, I was coming from the yard, and as I got to the corner of Buckingham Cottages, three or four men rushed on to me—I was struck by home sort of weapon, which knocked two of my teeth out, and knocked me on my back—one of the men kneeled upon my throat, and the other took my money out of my right trowsers pocket, and they kicked me on both sides; I feel sore now—I could not say whether there were three or four men, they rushed from round the corner—the prisoner is the one that kneeled on my throat—I law him plainly when he got off—I saw his face from the lamp on the opposite corner—he went off towards the police-station, the others went the other way—I ran after the prisoner—I lost sight of him when he turned the corner of Rochester Row—I could not get along very well—I went across to the station, which was just across the road, and told a constable—he came out, and I pointed the prisoner out—he was then standing about, walking on the opposite side of the road—he had got on light trowsers, a brown coat, and a cap—I can swear he is the man that got off my throat.
Cross-examined. I had lost sight of him, it might be several minutes when I spoke to the officer—the prisoner was not out of sight then—I did not point him out then, not till I had spoken to the officer a few minutes—I was very much hurt, and don't know to a few minutes how long it was—I don't think it was as long as ten minutes—he was not crossing the road when I showed him to the constable—he was on the pavement, on the opposite side of the road—we went down Willow Street—I pointed him out before we went down Willow Street—when I pointed him out, he set off and ran, and the constable after him—there was not a fight in Willow Street then, there was afterwards, when we went to look for the others—the assault took place about 100 hundred yards from the station-house door—it was about 1 o'clock when the charge was taken—I was very much hurt—I hardly know the time for a few minutes—I was knocked almost senseless, but I came to before he got off my throat—I could not see what I was struck with; it was something about the size of a hen's egg that came against my mouth—I might have said before the Magistrate that I was not half a minute talking to the constable; it was more than that; it was not ten minutes—I have not told anybody that the only way I could identify the prisoner was by his having light trowsers on—I said that was what he had on.
HERBERT RUSSELL (Policeman B 49). On Sunday morning, about 12.45, the prisoner came to me—I was standing inside the door of the police-station—he did not point out anyone to me then—I went with him down Willow Street, and as we were standing in Rochester Row, at the top of Buckingham Cottages, he pointed out the prisoner, who was then half-way across the road; that was about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after he first spoke to me—I walked rather sharply after the prisoner, and as soon as he got to the corner, and saw me, he made a spring with his feet, and ran to Vincent Square, towards Douglas Street—when I got to the corner, he had crossed the road, and was coming up on the other side, to meet me—I caught him, and told him what he was charged with—he said "I have not done nothing, I suppose you want to make something of it"—a man left him just as I got to the corner—I handed the prisoner over to another constable, and went after the other man.
Cross-examined. I was standing just inside the station, with two other constables, when the prosecutor came to me—I could not see anybody then—I went to Willow Street with him; there was a fight there; that fight was going on before I took the prisoner into custody—I went, with another constable, to stop the fight, and when we got back to the station the prosecutor was there again; you can see the place where the prosecutor was attacked, from the station-house door—he was walking when he came to me, and blood was running all down his clothes—the prisoner lives in Willow Street—the prosecutor seemed very nervous when he came up, and did not know exactly where he was; he seemed rather stupefied, from ill-usage.
Re-examined. At night, you cannot see the place where the prosecutor was attacked, from the station.
JAMES HURST (Policeman B 313). About 12.45, on this night, the prosecutor came in to the station, bleeding from the mouth, and complained of being assaulted and robbed—I saw him point out the prisoner—I followed him, with Russell, arrested him, and brought him into the station, and searched him—his hands and knees were dirty with the mud of the road.
Cross-examined. He appeared as if he had been fighting; he did not appear to be drunk.
Witnesses for the Defence.
LEONARD TITCHINER . I am the prisoner's father, and live at 10, William Street—I have worked at the Gas Works for about forty years—on the night of 29th April, the prisoner left my house about 7 o'clock, after he had his tea—I saw him again a little after 12 o'clock—I was up stairs, in bed—I was very angry with him for being out so late, and having a little drop too much—we had some words, and he said he would go and get a lodging elsewhere, and he went out; that was somewhere about 1 o'clock—I did not see anything more of him after that.
Cross-examined. I was in bed when he came in—I generally go to bed at 7 or 8 o'clock—he was about half an hour in my bed-room talking to me, and about half an hour below, in the yard and about the premises—I have no clock or watch in my bed-room—I know the time by the sound of Big Ben and Miss Burdett Coutts' clock—I did not hear Big Ben strike—I heard the three-quarters—I never had occasion to lecture my son before for being late—I had no light in my bed-room—I did not see what condition his clothes were in.
JOHN SCANLAN . I am a labourer, of 14, Johnson's Place—I called on the prisoner about 7 o'clock on this Saturday night—we went to the Standard Music Hall, and stayed there till about 11.45—we then came straight up the Vauxhall Road into Willow Street—when within a few doors of his house he bid me "Good-night!" and left me—I should think that was as near as could be between 12 and 12.15—I and a man named David Jones had a quarrel, and stripped to fight in Willow Street—the police came and disturbed us, and I ran down Keats' gateway, down the same yard where the prisoner lives—I there saw the prisoner rowing with his father—the prisoner and I left together, and went down Buckingham Cottages into Rochester Row—that was about 1 o'clock—I left him at the corner of Vincent Square, and went straight up Rochester Row.
Cross-examined. I saw him come out of the house after rowing with his father—he came out with me—his father was on the landing—I did not see him, I heard him jawing—I did not hear what he said—I could not see into his room—I have known the prisoner since a little boy—we went to school together—we are great companions—I have been in prison four or five times, twice for assaults on the police, once for another assault, and twice for stealing; no other charge—I was the worse for liquor this night—I should think he was more than half an hour in his father's house—I daresay it was nearly an hour—he went in about 12.15—I don't know the time exactly—I did not hear the clock strike—I don't know at what time he was taken into custody—he was not present at the fight—he went out of the gateway and fetched my clothes—it was near I when he left his father's with me—he had been away from me about an hour—I had been having a row during that hour—jawing and altogether, I daresay it took that—the fight happened over 200 yards from the police-station.
Re-examined. I am not doing any work now—I had seen the prisoner nearly every night' that week—I don't believe he knew I had been convicted—the last time was about two years ago—I had no hand in this robbery—the was not before the Magistrate.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, June 6th, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM BROTHERHOOD . I am barman to Joseph Walker, who keeps the Albert Tavern, Victoria Street, Westminster—on Monday night, 22nd May, the prisoners came in together, about 9.30, and Cox asked for two glasses of bitter ale, which came to 4d.—he put down a sovereign, I told him it was bad—I knew that by the lightness and feel of it—he said that he did not know it—I asked him if he had any more of them—he said "No," and asked me to give it back to him—I said "No," and rang the bell for Mr. Walker—the young woman drew the ale, and they drank it while I was talking—Mr. Walker came and sent for a constable—there was no one else in the bar—Cox tried to get away, but Mr. Walker stopped him, and then I went and got a policeman—while they were being searched I saw Cox drop a bad shilling behind him—I picked it up and gave it to the policeman, with the sovereign—Cox said that either I or Mr. Walker put it there.
Cox. Q. Were not you standing talking to a man while the barmaid took the money? A. No—I took it myself.
JOSEPH WALKER . I keep the Albert Tavern, Victoria Street, Westminster—Brotherhood called me and gave me a bad sovereign—I sent my barmaid and potman for a policeman, and they came back with three—Cox wanted to go out, but I caught him by the sleeve—while they were being searched I saw my barman pick up a bad shilling.
Cox. Q. Did you see me drop it? A. No—but I saw it on the ground, by your heel.
JOHN ROSLING (Policeman B 360). I was called, and took Cox—I saw Joyce, who was with me, pick up a bad sixpence behind Turner's heels—I received this sovereign from Mr. Walker, and the shilling from the barman.
Cox. You searched me from head to foot, and I held out my hands, you looked on the floor, and there was nothing there. Witness. I was searching you when he picked it up; there were three policemen in front of you, and it was impossible for the landlord to see you drop it.
JAMES JOYCE (Policeman B 261). I took Turner, and picked up this bad sixpence close to his heels—I searched him at the station and found a half-crown, a florin, a shilling, some sixpences, and 3 1/2 d. in coppers.
Cox's Defence. I paid the sovereign to the barmaid, she went away and called Mr. Brotherhood, who accused me of putting down a bad sovereign. I said "I am not aware of it, where is the money I gave the barmaid?" He made no reply but rang the bell, and the master came and sent for the police. The barman went to my right foot and said. "Here is another bad shilling," before he could test it. How could I chuck it down after being searched from head to foot? This man brought the bad shilling out of the bar.
Turner's Defence. This man asked me to have a glass of ale, I was merely in his company; I knew nothing of the money being bad, I cannot be
answerable for what he had in his possession; the money found on me I got from my master.
GUILTY .*— Nine Months' Imprisonment each.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM HEAD . My father keeps the Old Coffee Pot, Warwick Lane—on 8th May, I served the prisoner with a pint of porter, he put down a shilling—I said "This is bad"—he said "Give it to me back, I know where I have taken it"—I said that I should not, and I thought he was the man who passed one on Wednesday—he said "No, I never was in the house before"—my father went to the door to look for a policeman, but could not see one, and came back and said "You vagabond, be off about your business, and be out of the neighbourhood as soon as possible," and he let him off—I put the coin on a shelf by itself, and afterwards gave it to Ralph, who came in ten minutes afterwards.
ANN DAVIS . My son keeps a fishmonger's shop in Little Bell Alley—on 8th May, about 6 o'clock, I sold the prisoner a haddock, which came to 2 1/2 d.; he gave me a shilling, I gave him his change, and he left—a little servant girl then pointed out to me that it was bad—she overtook him, and just as she was speaking to him a policeman came up.
ANNIE DIBLOIS . I am servant to Mrs. Davis—I saw the prisoner leave the shop, Mrs. Davis then gave me a shilling; it was bad, and I followed the prisoner, overtook him, showed it to him and told him it was bad—he said nothing—a policeman came up, and I gave him in charge with the shilling.
RICHARD COTTERELL (City Policeman 116). I was in plain clothes—I saw the little girl running—she told me that the prisoner had passed a bad shilling—I ran and caught hold of him—took him to the station—searched him and found a good sixpence and 5 1/2 d. in copper—he gave no address.
Prisoner's Defence. I have been in India thirteen years, I left the regiment, and the major gave me three half-crowns. I paid 4d. to come by railway from Greenwich, and took these coins in change, I had no idea they were bad.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
448. HENRY SECULAR** (45) , PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Henry Sparks, with intent to steal, having been before convicted— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
449. JAMES SMART** (30) , to stealing 10lbs. of copper and 70lbs. of lead, fixed to a building, having been before convicted, in 1866— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, June 6th, 1871.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
GEORGE RINGELSTEIN . I am a baker, of 53, Pennyfields, Poplar—about 9 o'clock, on 24th May, I was in a street in Bromley, with my wife—I saw the prisoner there—he said "What are you doing here?"—I said "Nothing at all"—he asked me for 2d., for a pint of beer—I said I hadn't got any money—he said "I know what you are up to there," and my wife said "We are up to nothing here," and she said "Never mind; give him 2d. for a pint of beer"—I looked in my pocket; I had some halfcrowns and shillings, but only 1 1/2 d. in coppers—my wife said "I have got a halfpenny," and I gave him the 2d.—he called out "John," and went away, and two men came over the rails; one of them caught me by the throat, and the other took my watch and chain, and money—they ran away—I went after them—I caught one of them; the other came and threw me in the water, and I afterwards went back—I saw my wife with a lot of people, and a policeman—he said "Do you see the man you gave the 2d. for a pint of beer, to?"—I said "That's the man," and gave the prisoner in custody—he was waiting there when I went back—my wife said "There if the man you gave the 2d. to," and I caught him directly.
MR. WILLIAMS here withdrew from the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
DAVID MINNS (Policeman S 341). On Sunday morning, 23rd April, I was at the corner of a road, leading from Edgware to Great Stanmore—I saw the reflection of a fire in Canon's Park, where Mrs. Begg lives—I found it was a shed on fire—the fire was extinguished afterwards—I traced foot-steps at the time—on 24th April, about 2.30 in the morning, I was passing the house again—I found a window, on the ground floor, open—I had passed there about 11 o'clock, it was all secure then—I went into the room, into which the window led, and found the shutter bell on the floor—the shutters were unfastened, and the blind drawn up.
Cross-examined. The fire was early on Sunday morning, in a shed—the window was found open on the Monday morning—the footsteps I saw led from the gardener's cottage on to the lawn—I only traced three or four footsteps.
SARAH ALLINGHAM . I am housemaid to Mrs. Begg—I closed the window of, the cloak-room, which was afterwards found open—I closed it about 8 o'clock on Sunday evening—I barred the shutters, and put an alarm bell on them—the prisoner had been a gardener at Mrs. Begg's—he had been into the house, and into the room where the writing desk was kept—he was only there on one occasion, and that was about five months before he left.
ISABELLA MCFARLANE CHALMERS . I am living with Mrs. Begg, at Canon's Park—there is a room on the third floor of the house, in which I keep some birds—the window of that room looks on to a gutter, which runs round the house—I did nothing to that window on the Sunday evening—I don't think it had been opened that day—I know this pen-knife; it belonged to the late Dr. Begg—I saw it frequently—it was usually kept in Mrs. Begg's desk.
Cross-examined. I don't think I saw it there; I think I saw it in a
drawer in Mrs. Begg's bed-room—that was six or seven months before it was shown to me by the police—I had not seen it in the desk before that—Dr. Begg was a physician—I think it is a knife usually used by doctors—there is a plate for the name, but no name on it—the knife I saw was exactly like this.
ELIZA BEGG . I am widow of the late Dr. Begg, and live at The Canon's—the prisoner has been in my service—I think he left in March—I recollect the burglary at my house—I missed some property of considerable value, and, amongst other things, a writing desk and a knife, which I used when I was in London, in the winter—we returned home on 3rd April, and from that time it was in the desk, I believe—I very seldom used it—it was the knife my husband used to carry in his pocket—I have no doubt about it, whatever—it was a Mechi's knife, and this one appears to be a Mechi's knife also—it is not particularly a doctor's knife—it had nothing to do with his profession; merely for private use—I don't recollect that I described it to the Inspector.
Cross-examined. I used the knife when I was living in London, in the winter—I had the desk in London also—that was four or five months ago—I can't say positively that I saw it after we got back from London—I know I brought it back, but I can't say whether I used it or not—I missed, besides the desk, a magnifying glass, a paper box, a plated taper stand, and a double opera glass—there was a cheque-book in the desk, and a seal, with a crest on it, and this knife—there was no crest on the taper stand.
Re-examined. The desk was always kept locked—you will see it has been forced open.
SAMUEL ROBERTS . I am gardener to Mrs. Begg, and live in a cottage adjoining the garden—I recollect a fire breaking out, on the Sunday morning, on the estate—I went to the fire—I left all my property safe—when I came back I missed some sugar in paper, a loaf of bread, and a small pistol, which the prisoner had given to me, some time before, when we were coservants—we had lived together at this cottage—whilst we were there we went over to Edgware, and bought a knife and fork each—this is my own knife, it corresponds with the one he bought—when he left Mrs. Begg's service he cleaned the knife, and put it in his box.
Cross-examined. We bought forks as wells as knives—we bought them at a stationer's shop, in Edgware, of a person named Bayance—it is about five or six months ago—I kept my knife in a cupboard—there were no other knives in the house—we lived in the cottage by ourselves, and when he left, I lived by myself—I kept the pistol in the bed-room—that was on the ground floor—there are no stairs, only two rooms—you had to go through the sitting-room to get into the bed-room—I was engaged during that day, and when I came back, I missed the sugar, and bread, and pistol—Robert Wardle was head-gardener, and is still—he gave the prisoner a good character—the prisoner showed it to me on the morning that he left.
JAMES LUCAS (Police Inspector S). I examined the premises at Canon's Park, after they had been broken into—the burglary appeared to have been committed by some person climbing on to a stone ledge, about 20 ft. from the ground, by means of the lack part of a pair of steps, and then climbing to the top of the house, on to a stone balustrade—the stone ledge is about 2ft. wide, and a person could go round three sides of the house
upon that—the back part of the steps would enable him to get to the balustrade, which is 8ft. higher than the ledge—I found the attic window tied with a piece of bass—we suppose he got out at the bottom window—I afterwards went across the gardens, and searched in the boat-house, which is about 400 yards from the house—I found this writing-desk broken open, and the papers strewed about—I found this knife, which corresponds with the one produced by Roberts—I also found some sugar and bread, and some pieces of egg shell, and burnt pieces of wood, where someone had cooked the eggs—I found foot-prints on the garden beds, as if someone had walked with a naked foot, in the direction of the boat-house.
HENRY PAINTER (Policeman S 186). I was on duty at the Midland Railway station, at Mill Hill, on 24th April—about 3.50, in the morning, I saw the prisoner coming towards me, from the direction of Edgware—I asked him where he was going—he said "To London"—I asked him where he came from—he said "From Edgware"—I told him if he had gone up the Edgware Road, instead of coming to Mill Hill, he would have got to London sooner—he said he came there to see if there was an early train—he asked what time the train went—I told him 8.10—I walked about fifty yards with him, directed him the way to London, and he went away—he was about two miles from Canon's Park when I saw him coming away from it—I was afterwards taken to the Court House, and picked him out from ten or twelve others—I am sure he is the man.
Cross-examined. I was not directed to go and pick him out—I saw a description in our informations, and I said he was the man I had seen—my inspector said "You had better go to the Court House, and see if you can identify him, on Wednesday"—I have not got the description here—I am quite certain he is the man I saw—I identified him directly—I suppose I was with him about a quarter of an hour when I saw him at Mill Hill—I had never seen him before, and I never saw him afterwards till I saw him in custody—it was 3.50, on 24th April, when I saw him—he asked me the time—it was not very light then—I left him about 4.5—it was getting light then—it gets much lighter in a quarter of an hour—it was light enough to recognize anyone—there is no gas there.
Re-examined. I should think I saw him fifty or seventy yards off before I spoke to him; it may be more than that—I looked at my watch when he asked me the time—I could see very well.
COURT. Q. Was he carrying anything? A. Not that I saw; if he was, it was out of sight of suspicion altogether.
ELIZABETH STAFFORD . I live at Wandsworth—the prisoner lodged with me about eight or nine weeks before the burglary—he was away from the Thursday before the burglary till Monday, 24th April—the inspector came to me about a week afterwards—the prisoner had a latch-key—he owed me some rent at the time he left—he came in on Monday morning, about 10.30—he said a friend had given him some money, and he paid me 10s.,—he said he had walked from Colchester; he did not say how he had got there—his boots and socks were wet, and I dried them for him.
JAMES PAY (Police Inspector). I was with Sergeant Manton, and saw the prisoner in the Wandsworth Road, on 10th May, I told him I was an inspector of police, and wished to ask him some questions about a fire and a burglary at Mrs. Begg's—I asked him whether he had been formerly in Mrs. Begg's employ as gardener—he said "Yes"—I asked him where he slept on the Saturday and Sunday night, the 22nd and 23rd April—he said
"I slept at my lodging"—I said "Your landlady says you did not sleep there on those nights"—he said "That is right, I did not sleep there, I admit, I slept at a friend's"—I said "Where does that friend live?"—he said he could not tell me, and he ultimately said that he did not sleep at any friend's at all, hut that he was roaming round Croydon, and slept under hay stacks—I asked him whether he went into any house—he said he went into a baker's, he believed somewhere at Croydon, and bought some bread—I said "Have you paid your landlady any money, or did you pay your landlady any money on your return?"—he said "Yes, I paid her 10s.,"—I asked him where he got the 10s., from, as he had previously stated that he only had a few halfpence in his pocket when he went into the baker's shop in Croydon—he said "I borrowed part from my sister, and a part I obtained by selling some books and other things at a shop"—I asked him where the shop was, and also his sister's address, as I should have to make enquiries as to the correctness of it—he then said "I did not get the money that way; I can't tell you where I got it"—I said "The landlady said that you had told her you had walked from Colchester, and had borrowed some money of a friend"—he said "I did tell her so, but it was wrong"—I asked him where his dinner knife was; he said he had sold it—I asked him where; he said he could not tell—I said "Your explanation of where you were on those particular nights appears to me to be very unsatisfactory, and I shall take you for setting fire to the shed and committing a burglary at a cottage and mansion at Edgware"—he said "I can't help that"—as we were going to the station he appeared rather anxious to get his hand to his waistcoat pocket, and when we got to the station I still found him putting his fingers in—I walked up to him and said "What have you got in that pocket?"—he said "Oh, I have some keys" and he produced two keys—I said "I think you have something more there?"—he said "No, I have nothing more"—I put my fingers in, and ultimately pulled out this pen-knife—he said he had had it a long time—he was charged, but said nothing.
Cross-examined. I was cross-examining him nearly ten minutes—I found him a little nervous and anxious—I did not go with the intention of taking him in custody—I had suspicion of him, but I should not have taken him if he had given me a satisfactory account of where he was on those particular nights—there is no reward in this, and I don't expect any—it is not usual for us to get rewards when they are offered—we don't ask questions in every case, because it is not necessary—he had no friend present during the examination—I thought it necessary to ask him those questions—and if he had explained himself, I should not have interfered with him—my suspicions rose when he gave me a false statement as to where he slept on those nights—I had some suspicion before, but not enough to arrest a man—I found a certificate of good character upon him when I took him.
Cross-examined. I did not go with a note-book and take it down—I just stood by and saw it done.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
453. JOHN SAMUEL MATTHIAS (30) , PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously taking Rosetta Wallington, an unmarried girl under the age of fourteen years, out of the possession of her parents, against their will; and also to stealing various articles of clothing— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. And
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, June 7th, 1871.
Before Mr. Justice Byles.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. METCALFE and MONCKTON the Defence.
CHARLES AUSTIN (Policeman L 167). At 4 o'clock in the morning of Sunday, 12th March last, I was on duty in Tower Street, Lambeth—the prisoner came up to me, and wanted to know if he could go into the station—I asked him for what purpose—he said he was tired of his life, and tired of walking about; he also said that he wanted to give himself up for a murder he had committed in Brompton, in August last, at some gardens called Gledhow Gardens—he said he had murdered a potman, Samuel Lee—I asked him why he had done it—he said "I owed him some money; he demanded more than I owed him, and we quarrelled; I went behind him, and took up a hammer, and struck him on the back of the head; with that, he fell; I struck him several times afterwards, and then left him for dead"—I took him to Tower Street Station, where he made a statement to the Inspector on duty—it was 4.15 when I got to the station with him—he was perfectly sober.
Cross-examined. He did not tell me where he had been that night, or what he had been doing—he did not tell me where he had come from, or where he lived—he did, subsequently, to the Inspector—I have told you all that he said.
HENRY WHITNEY (Police Inspector L). I was at the station when the last witness brought the prisoner there—the constable said, in his presence, that the man had wanted to come into the station, to give himself up for the murder of a potman, at Brompton—I asked the prisoner why he gave himself up—he said he could not help it; he did it—I told him if he made any statement to me, I should take it down in writing—I asked him his name and address, and he gave it me, "Claude Woolley, aged 19, a painter, living with his father, at 24, Ranelagh Grove, Pimlico"—this is what I took down at the time, and he signed it—I took it down as he uttered the words—(Read: "I wish to give myself up for the murder of Samuel Lee, at the third house in Gledhow Gardens, Brompton, about three weeks before the Police Fêete at the Crystal Palace. It occurred about 1 or 2 o'clock on Saturday afternoon. I was at work at No. 6, and went to pay him some money, when we quarrelled, and I picked up a hammer which was in the room, and struck him on the back of the head. I struck him several times afterwards, and robbed him of about 4l., and left him for dead")—At that time, I said to him "Shall I read this, or will you read it yourself?"—he said he would read it himself—he read it, and he cried very much—I said "Do you wish to add anything more?"—he said "I did not intend to murder him when I went into the house, and I left the hammer in the fire-place
place in the same room"—he then signed it—I communicated with Inspector Palmer, who had had charge of the case previously.
Cross-examined. This was taken, I should think, half or three quarters of an hour after he came in, about 4.30 or 5 in the morning—he said he was tired, that he had been to Woolwich on the Saturday, to try to enlist as a soldier, but he was not tall enough, and that he had walked from Woolwich—I have not had any case of self-accusation of murder before—it is not uncommon—there are very few murders of any notoriety where something of the sort does not happen—I have heard sometimes of as many as four or five accusing themselves.
Re-examined. The prisoner was perfectly sober.
WILLIAM PALMER . I am Chief Inspector of the Detective Police—on the 19th or 20th August last, I saw the prisoner at a workshop on the estate in Bolton Gardens—it was on the Thursday or Friday after the body was found; that would be on the 19th or 20th—the murder was on Saturday, the 13th, and the body was found on Tuesday, the 16th—I asked the prisoner where he received his wages on the Saturday previous—he said "At No. 15, Bolton Gardens"—I said "What time did you arrive home?"—he said "About 2.10"—I asked him at what time he received his wages that day—he said "About 1 o'clock"—there were about ninety men that I had to see, who were at work on the estate—I was investigating the murder at that time—I knew where he lived; it was, I should think, about twenty-five minutes' or half-an-hour's walk, from 3, Gledhow Gardens—that was all that passed between us on that occasion—I was present at the inquest; it was held on the 18th, either Wednesday or Thursday—I think there was an adjournment—I was present on both occasions—the prisoner was not there on either occasion—I next saw him, to speak to him, about 11 o'clock on Sunday, 12th March last—he was, at that time, in custody—I had received a telegram, which caused me to go to the police-station at Kensington—he was in a cell there—I said to him "Do you know me?"—he said "Yes, you are Mr. Palmer"—I said "Have you been drinking?"—he said "No"—I said "Have you any pains in your head?"—he said "No"—I said "Are you aware of what you have been saying, and the serious consequences that may occur?"—he said "Yes"—I said "But no hammer was found"—he said "I left it there"—I said "Do you mean to say that it is true, what you have been stating?"—he said "Yes"—I said "I will fetch your father," which I did, and his father and brother had an interview with him—before that, I said to him, "What makes you make this serious accusation against yourself?"—he said "I could not stand it any longer; poor old Jack used to stand by the side of my bed at night, staring at me with those big eyes of his"—the interview with his father and brother took place in my presence—he adhered to the same statement—his elder brother spoke to him; his father was too much affected—I did not hear everything that passed between them, but I heard him make the remark that he could not help it, he had done it—I was present on another occasion when his father was with him, at the Hammersmith Police Court—I think that was at the second examination; the 28th March—his father had an interview with him, and he then said that he could not help it, that he had done it—his father said "I cannot believe it"—on 4th April, at the last examination, I asked him if he was hungry—he said "Yes"—he had had nothing since 8 o'clock—I sent him in some food, which he thanked me for, and as I was leaving the cell, he said "Mr. Palmer, have you found the hammer?"—I said "No"—he
said "Well, I can't account for it; I always thought I left it in the room"—I may add that, on the day the body was found, Tuesday, the 16th, I searched the room, and was not able to find any hammer—I was not the first person there; it was some hours after the body was found; but I searched the house fully, and also the day following, but I found no hammer, or any instrument that would be likely to inflict the wounds—several persons had been there before me.
Cross-examined. Some of the adjoining houses were searched, and the neighbourhood, and I was never able to find anything of the kind—the conversation I have spoken of I now depose to in the witness-box, for the first time—I did not say a word about it at the Police Court—I did not take it down in writing—I gave evidence at the Police Court as to going to the prisoner, and looking at the house—when I saw him and questioned him on the Thursday or Friday after the body was found, he appeared cool and collected—I bad not the slightest reason, from his answers or his appearance, to suspect him—he answered every question I put to him, and answered it truthfully, as I found out, about the payment of the wages, and so on—I ascertained that he did get home about 2.30, because I made enquiries about every workman—he did not say that after he received his wages, and before he went home, he dined in Sloane Square—he did not say where he had his dinner—I have never heard him say anything about that—I examined and questioned not only him, but about ninety workmen, and followed up any clues—I ascertained what men had been discharged, and made every necessary enquiry—I found that two men had been discharged just previous to the murder, sixty or seventy at various times, but two shortly before—I endeavoured to follow up those clues, and I cleared up as to where they were on the day in question; there were other clues that I endeavoured to work out; there was one which I followed up for some time, and I found that he could not have committed the murder, he was too drunk to walk; that was not my only reason for foregoing my suspicion—the suspicion was, because he had called on the widow of the deceased a day or two after—I cleared that up, to my own satisfaction—there were other clues which I was following oat at the time, without any success—the doctor was examined at the inquest—the nature of the wounds was spoken of—I heard it suggested, by the doctor, that it must have been done with a hammer, such as a lather's or plasterer's hammer—the prisoner is a painter by trade—his father is a person of very great respectability; he is a sort of sub-contractor, he does the whole of the painting for Messrs. Spicer, on that estate, and was employing his son under him—in the course of this inquiry I have had every reason to rely upon what the father has stated to me—I said to the prisoner, at Kensington, "Are these the clothes you had on in August last, the day of the murder?"—he said "No, you will find my clothes under my bed," describing the coat and trowsers—I ultimately got a coat and trowsers from the house; they have been submitted to medical inspection, to the doctor who examined the deceased, for the purpose of ascertaining whether there was anything upon them—I did not get his boots.
Re-examined. I did not know the prisoner at all, until I made these enquiries in August—I have no means of knowing what clothes he actually wore on that Saturday; some clothes were given up to me—I did not mention the conversation when I was at the Police Court; no professional person was employed in the case there; I had to conduct the case myself—before I used it in evidence I took the opinion of the Solicitor
of the Treasury—at the time I put the questions to the prisoner it was merely to prove whether he was insane or not, and to test the accuracy of his statement, and I did not think I should be justified in using that as evidence after the prisoner was in custody at the Police Court; at the same time I thought it right to mention it to the Solicitor for the Treasury.
COURT. Q. What caused you to ask the prisoner the questions you did, as to whether he was sober, or whether he had pains in his head? A. It was to test whether he was telling the truth, or whether he had been suffering from drink, or whether he was insane—at that time I had doubts about the accuracy of his statement—I found his clothes where he told me, under his bed—there was a deal of paint upon them, nothing but paint; I examined them myself, and took them to the doctor.
GEORGE HARRISON ADKINS . I am landlord of the Drayton Tavern, Thistle Grove, Brompton—the deceased man, Samuel Lee, was a potman in my service—I was in the habit of supplying the workmen engaged on the estate, in which Gledhow Gardens is situate, with beer, during the week, and it was their practice to pay when they got their wages, on Saturday—Lee had been in my service about three years—he kept a book—the last time I saw him alive was about 12.30 on Saturday morning, 13th August; he was then in front of the bar—I had just given him 3l. worth of silver for change; it was mixed silver, half crowns and shillings; that was to enable him to give change to the workmen when he received his money to settle the weekly accounts for beer—I did not see his book—he went out with that money—he would have to receive, on my account, I daresay, about 6l. or 7l. from the workmen, on that Saturday—he did not collect money for anyone else, but he himself used to supply dinners to the men, which he used to give credit for, so that he had debts due to himself to collect, as well as mine—after he went out, on that day, I did not see him again alive—his ordinary time for returning would be about 1.30—information was given to the police that had not returned—on the following Tuesday, the 16th, in consequence of what I heard, I went to No. 3, Gledhow Gardens; a man named White fetched me there—No. 3 is very nearly opposite my house—I went up stairs to the ground floor, and there saw the body of Lee—he was lying on his back, in the dining-room, the back room, and this book (produced) was by the side of him, close against his hand—I went round the other side of the room, and it appeared to me that there had been two parties standing opposite each other, by the mantelpiece—there were two footprints, and there was another footprint and a half, just the ball of the foot, without a heel, but there had been a good many cats running about the floor, so that they had disturbed them a good deal—the room was all covered with dust—a constable was sent for, and he examined them.
Cross-examined. The deceased was a small man, he was rather stoutish, rather a heavy man—I have no idea what he weighed—he was a very much heavier man than the prisoner—much stouter and bigger altogether—he might be a little taller.
DRIFFIELD WHITE . I am a carpenter, and live at 38, On slow Buildings, Fulham—on 16th August I went into the house, No. 3, Gledhow Gardens; it was an unfinished house, almost finished, but not quite—I went down the area steps, through the area door, and then up on to the ground floor—
when I got into the house I perceived a remarkably disagreeable smell—I went into the back room ground floor, and there found the dead body of Samuel Lee, known to me as "Potman Jack"—we did not know his proper name on the premises—the door of the room was partially closed—it stood about a foot open—before I went into the room I saw the hair of a man's head, as I supposed, through the partially open door—I opened the door, went in, and found the body—upon this I went back to No. 6, and fetched Benham, a fellow workman, and told him what I had found, and I then sent for Mr. Adkins, the landlord, and he brought the policeman Large with him, and another constable—we went into the room, and they examined the body—I have known the prisoner about four year—I had seen him for some length of time—he was working at No. 6—I saw him the week before, and the week before that—I am not positive whether he was working at No. 6 on that Saturday, but I saw him several days during that fortnight, working on the estate—he has been working on the estate all the four or five years I have known him—the out-door workmen were supplied with beer by Lee—I have known Lee lend money to several workmen—Saturday was his usual pay day.
Cross-examined. At the time I found him in No. 3, anyone could have got in there—there was a sort of palisading in front of the area, with a gate, and you went down two steps into the area—there was a door entering the house that would have to be opened, and which I did open—there was no latch to it, it was a temporary fastening, a piece of wood inside—we work-men have a means of fastening a door, and we know the way to open it, by pushing in a piece of wood; but in this case the door was not closed, the shutter was down, and I put my hand through the opening of the door, and took it away easily enough—when you opened that door you went into the basement passage, which led to the staircase—there are several rooms on the basement, on each side of the passage, three or four I suppose—they are moderately large houses, perhaps about twelve, fourteen, or sixteen rooms—there are three rooms on the ground floor, two large rooms and a small one—the body was in the largest room, the one intended for the drawing-room—it has not folding doors, it has a separate door—the dining-room is in front and the drawing-room at the back, and the little room is at the side of the drawing-room—the front door was fastened by a wood button—you could only turn that by going inside, you could not get at it in the same way as the other—it was buttoned at that time—I had not been in that house, I suppose, for four months—I think no one bad been there for a month or two, it was left pretty well finished—I went there to see if I could find some article that I required to finish a job that I was doing at No. 6—this matter was a good deal talked over amongst the workmen—Jack was not a remarkable favourite, no more than a potman usually is—he was a very civil, kind sort of man—of course we talked about it in the usual way, and how it was committed—each had his own idea how it was done—I knew what the doctor had said at the inquest, about the blows, and about its being done with a hammer; that was talked about considerably amongst us—I don't recollect seeing any of them imitate the way they fancied it was done, by taking up an instrument and showing it; they might it have done so—the prisoner has not been present with me while that has been the subject of discussion—we are in different lines of business; I am a carpenter—he would rather mix amongst the painters, of course—there were plasterers on the estate, men of all grades in the building line.
Re-examined. I should judge the deceased to be a man a little over forty years of age.
JOHN LARGE (Police Sergeant T R 1). On Tuesday, 16th August, from what I heard I went to No. 3, Gledhow Gardens—and on the ground floor there, saw the deceased lying on his back and this book lying on the floor, open, leaf downwards—I got my knife and got it up from the floor—I saw there were several wounds about the man's head and face, and his clothes were all smothered in blood—he was lying in a large pool of blood—I searched his pockets and found a sovereign in his right hand trowsers pocket, and a shilling in his waistcoat, through a hole in the lining of the pocket—Mr. Godrich, a surgeon, was sent for, and he examined the body in my presence—I had not turned the body over before he came—I searched minutely every place I could think of, to find what the wounds had been inflicted with; up the chimney and every place that could be thought of, but could not find any instrument—there are entries in this book of the name of "Woolley"—in four places, I think—there are no initials against the name.
Cross-examined. I should think the deceased man's weight would be nearly nine stone, or from that to ten stone—that, would be about his weight, I should think—I weigh twelve stone—he was short and stout, but not over and above stout—I lifted him, not by myself, with assistance—dead people always appear more heavy than living ones—I noticed dust down the front of his clothes, and on the front of his trowsers, as if he had first fallen on his face; that was the appearance—I could not tell from the appearance of the floor whether there had been a struggle, because where he was, it was all blood—there was a great deal of blood where the head and shoulders lay, in fact the blood had run nearly four feet from where the body was—there were a few spatters of blood on the wall, as though it had spattered in three different places, on both sides and behind—his clothes were covered with blood all the way to the waist, all smothered in blood—there are five or six stone steps to go up from the road to the front door—is that distance elevated above the road—the back room looks out into a large garden at the back of all the houses, a large square—there is no road out there—I should think where the body lay would be 40ft. from the road, including the path—I looked in other places as well as in the house for the hammer—I made a minute search all about the place and in the gardens, every place we could think of at that time, and times after—I went in at the door just behind the landlord—two persons had been up to the fire-place; you could see the footmarks in the dust—one of those two appeared to have been the deceased, there is no doubt about that—there were the footmarks of two persons in the room.
FRANCIS GODRICH . I am a surgeon, in Fulham Road, West Brompton—on Tuesday, 16th August, I saw the body of the deceased, at No. 3, Gledhow Gardens, and on the 17th I made a post-mortem examination—perhaps I had better read the notes that were taken down at the time the postmortem occurred—the original notes are partly in my handwriting, and partly in my son's—I saw the body on the 16th August—I was fetched by a policeman—on the 17th I received an order from the Coroner, to make a post-mortem examination—(Read: "I found that the deceased was about 5ft. 3 in. high, he was well nourished, and apparently healthy; he was lying in a dried pool of blood, apparently dead three or four days; the right arm was slightly abduced from the body, the left arm close to it, both arms extended;
the eyes were widely open, the right pupil somewhat dilated; the face, head, and arms, more or less covered with blood; also the back of the clothes; no blood on the clothes in front; there are several spots of blood on the wall, about four feet from the body; the black trowsers are covered with dust similar to that on the floor; the shirt is rolled up above the elbows"—I mean that his arms were bare up to the elbows—"He was a stout, healthy-looking man. In the front of the head there was a large, round, depressed wound, as though made by some blunt instrument, in the median line of the head; that had implicated some of the bones of the nose; it was knocked in upon the brain; it was about one inch, or three-quarters, beaten in upon the brain; it measured about one inch and three-quarters one way, and one inch and a quarter the other. Just above this fracture there was another on the frontal bone, running into the first, apparently made by a more cutting instrument, the bones being out through, rather than depressed; the length of this wound is five-eighths of an inch; still more to the right, near the coronal suture, is another fracture of the same character as the last, running into it; by these fractures a large portion of the frontal bone is detached from the rest of the skull. Over the left eye there is a triangular wound, exposing the periosteum, that is, the lining of the bone, but not implicating the bones. Immediately below the right eye is a large contused wound, not exposing any bone, but beneath it the mala, the cheek bone, and the jaw-bone, are fractured in several directions, and depressed into the antrum, that is beneath the nose, knocked in upon the brain. On the left side of the face, although there is no evidence of a blow, the nasal processes, that is, the nose, and the superior maxillary bone, are detached; that blow, I think, must have been given after the cessation of the circulation, there was no appearance of braise in it. On the right parietal region the periosteum was denuded by an irregular wound, the bone was uninjured, that was, in popular language, on the right side of the head. On the back of the head, on the left side, is a large comminuted fracture, that is, the bones are all broken up into pieces beneath the skin, on the left side, behind, through which lacerated brain substance is protruding; that implicated the occipital bone, and the left parietal bone of that side; by this fracture a traingular portion of bone on each side, about an inch and a half, is detached, and hangs by the scalp. In addition to this, a number of smaller portions are detached—that injury has apparently been inflicted by two blows, one of a rounded form, the other in front, of a cutting character. Immediately behind the right ear is an incised wound, 21/4 inches long, by which a flap of the scalp is removed from the temporal and occipital bones, and the periosteum exposed; this had apparently been inflicted from behind, as the flap was adherent to the front only; behind, on the occipital region, on the right side, there was a smaller contused scalp wound; there were no other apparent injuries")—When I first saw the body, he was lying on the back—on the front of his trowsers was the debris of mortar and stuff in the room; it was very thick; they were black trowsers—there was no blood on his clothes in front lower than about here (the chest); but he was lying on his back, in a pool of blood—he must have fallen on his face, otherwise he would have been turned over twice—I know what a plasterer's hammer is—I gave it as my opinion then that it was done by a plasterer's hammer, or something of that character; that is my present opinion—that has a blunt hammer on one side, and a cutting chisel on the other—I saw nothing of any hammer.
Cross-examined. I can come to no other conclusion than that the large wound behind was the first that he received—I should think there were five wounds that would have caused instant death, and that one particularly—I think that must have been the first and mortal wound, from the state of his clothes—that wound was caused by two blows, one by a round substance, and one of a cutting character—that must have been a very heavy blow, indeed, given with immense violence, and must have been done with a heavy hammer—the skull is particularly thick there—that wound must have caused instant death—the man must have fallen forward, on his face; his clothes, and the whole of his black trowsers, being covered with dust in front—he could not have moved himself after that, he must have been turned over by some other force, and the other blows must have been inflicted afterwards, otherwise he must have been turned over twice; he was, I should say, rather a stout, powerful man, a broad man, about 5ft. 3 in. in heighth; I should say his weight was ten or eleven stone, or more than that—I am ten, and I should think he was two stone heavier than I am—he was a stout, fat, well-built man—if he was dead when he fell, it would take more power to turn him over than it would if he had been alive—we had a difficulty in moving him up to be examined—I gave evidence before the Coroner, and described the wounds—I read from this paper—the eyes were wide open, widely extended; he looked as though he were looking at you with his eyes very wide open—I have used the word staring; we call it staring when the eyes are so very wide open—I used that expression before—I also stated my impression that it must have been done with a hammer of the kind mentioned.
COURT. Q. You mentioned that opinion at the time, and you think so now? A. Yes, it is nothing more than conjecture.
ALFRED WYBURN HARLEY . In August last I was employed as day watchman, in Gledhow Gardens, and Bolton Gardens—on Saturday, 13th August, about 1.30, I saw the deceased man Lee coming out of the yard, at the corner of No. 16, Bolton Gardens; it is called Wetherby Road now—there was no one with him—he had something in his hand—he was looking at his accounts, I think—he was going straight down the side of the gardens, towards his home, not in the direction of No. 3, Gledhow Gardens, but in an opposite direction.
Cross-examined. It would take two or three minutes to walk from where I saw him to No. 3, Gledhow Gardens.
JAMES TAYLOR . I am a labourer—on 13th August I was passing the Drayton Arms, about 1.20, as near as I could tell, and met the deceased—he was on the opposite side of the road to me; he was going towards the Drayton; that would be about sixty yards from No. 3, Gledhow Gardens—he had a book in his hand like the one produced.
Cross-examined. I have not heard this matter talked over among the men as to the way in which the deceased met his death—I am not employed on that estate.
WILLIAM TOTEN . I am assistant foreman, at Messrs. Spicer's works—I was employed on the estate at which Gledhow Gardens is situate—I know No. 6; there was a plasterer's hammer lying in the fire-place, at No. 6, some time previous to the murder; it was an old hammer, that belonged to no one particularly; it was lying in the fire-place, among some rubbish; it was claimed by no one particularly, and I gave it out of my office to one of the labourers to clean some bricks with; that was some months previous,
but it had been lying in that house for some considerable time—I last saw it lying in the fire-place, at No. 6—I expect that was about two months previous to the murder—it was an old plasterer's hammer, the cutting part was very much worn away, but the bottom part was only a little chipped; it was a hexagon-shaped hammer—it has been searched for—I followed the constable, and searched for it immediately the body was found—I was not able to find it, or trace it in any way.
Cross-examined. I gave it out to somebody to chip away the cement work, and to clean bricks—I don't recollect who that was—it is two years ago when it was first given out—I saw it after that, some months afterwards; I saw it continually—I last saw it lying in the fire-place—the workmen were finishing that house, No. 6, at the time of the murder—I was there during the last two months before the murder; I did not notice it then, I did not see it at all—the reason I noticed it two months previous was because I saw a man using it—I was in that house, three or four times a day between that two months and the time of the murder, and in that room in which I had seen the hammer—this matter has been a good deal discussed amongst the workmen, as to its being done with a hammer—it was my impression, when I saw the shape of the wound, that it was done with a plasterer's hammer—I believe it was frequently discussed amongst the men—I have not seen any of them imitate the way in which they thought it was done—I have heard them suggesting the way in which it was done—I have very little association with the men, beyond the work, and I do not hear what their discussions are.
Re-examined. The prisoner worked on the estate up to about a week before he gave himself up.
THOMAS STRATFORD . I worked on the same estate with the prisoner—during the week of the murder I saw him at work there, at the same house as I was, No. 6, Gledhow Gardens—I have also seen him at times at the Drayton Arms, in the week days, in that same week—I have seen an old plasterer's hammer lying about—the last time I saw it was in Bina Road, where some new houses are being built, about 200 yards from Gledhow Gardens—it was a hammer that no one claimed—I saw it some time previous to the murder—it might have been a month or two months—I have never seen it since that time—on Saturday, 13th August, I saw the deceased, about 1.5, close to our yard, where we get paid, close to the pay table—I paid him 2s., that day—that was the last I saw of him.
MART ANN NICHOLLS . I live at 62, Adam Street, Pimlico—I have known the prisoner about nine months—I am seventeen years of age—on Thursday, 25th August last, I went with the prisoner to the Crystal Palace, on the occasion of the Police Fêete—I was with him the whole day—he paid the expenses—he spent about 15s., that day—he had some other silver in his pockets when he had paid that—I could not judge how much, but about the same quantity, about 15s.,—I have been in the habit of seeing him from time to time—about three weeks before Christmas he told me he had something on his mind—I asked him to tell me what it was—he said he could not tell me, it was too great—he said it was too horrible to tell—he did not say anything more—he has not said anything to me about it on any other occasion—he was sober at the time—I remember hearing that he was in custody—Mr. Palmer came to me on the Sunday, and said that he had given himself up—I had seen him on the Saturday night before, at our house—he came there about 7 o'clock, and stayed till 11.3.0 at night—we
went out for a walk during that time—I did not notice anything about him then.
Cross-examined. He brought me home again, and left about 11.30—we had gone out about 8 o'clock—I was keeping company with him—my father is a policeman—he was at the Police Fête—there was a great gathering of police there—we met my father there twice during the day—we were not with him all day—my mother was not there, my brother was with my father—the prisoner was with me—he did not spend any money in my father's presence—I should think it was about 15s., that he spent—that is, from reckoning it up—I did not know at the time—I merely guess as to the silver he had in his pocket—I know he had some beyond what he paid away—I had been out with him before the murder, not to places of amusement, not before the murder—I had known him about three weeks before that—I am sure it was about three weeks before Christmas that he said this to me—I was at home at the time—it was in the evening part, about 8 o'clock—I had not been anywhere with him before that—I did not tell anybody about it—I did not think anything more of it—I saw him again the next day—I saw him most days—that was the only time he ever said anything to me about it—Mr. Palmer asked me to come as a witness—he asked me if the prisoner had said anything to me, and then I remembered this.
COURT. Q. When was it that Mr. Palmer asked you that? A. When he came to me on the following Wednesday as he gave himself up.
G. H. ADKINS (Re-examined). The entries in the book (produced) are in the deceased's handwriting—it is a book relating to his own business; I had nothing at all to do with this book. (The book contained several entries of the name of "Woollty.")
When examined before the Magistrate, the Prisoner, having been cautioned, said nothing, and called no witnesses.
The names of the Prisoner's father and brother being on the back of the bill, MR. METCALFE requested that they might be called. MR. POLAND did not purpose to examine them; but, at the suggestion of THE COURT, they were called.
HENRY SAMUEL WOOLLEY . I live at Ranelagh Grove, Pimlico—the prisoner is my son—in August last I was working on the Gledhow estate—my son was also working there—he was not at work in Gledhow Gardens on the Saturday; he had been in the course of the week—on the Saturday, he was working in the glass-shop on the estate—it would take him about six minutes to walk from there to No. 3—he worked with me till 11.50 that day—it would be his duty to remain in the glass-shop till the bell rung 1 o'clock—he used to keep the men's time—at 1 o'clock, he would go to No. 15, Bolton Gardens, take his money, and go about his business—that is where the men were paid—it would take about a minute and a half to walk from there to No. 3, Gledhow Gardens—I paid my son 3d. per hour at that time; that would be about 14s., 3d. a week—he lived at home with me—he bought his own food—he had not had any time to buy clothes, because he had plenty before—he had only recently taken his money—he had only recently begun to keep himself—he used to take his money to his mother, and live at home, keeping his pocket-money—he had been keeping himself for about three months—I saw my son on the Saturday afternoon, about 2.10, in Ranelagh Grove, in my own kitchen—he continued to work with me up to 13th February last—we then had a disagreement about a little money, and I discharged him—he was not at work for me after 13th February—he still lived at home—I did not not notice anything about him
on the Saturday afternoon—I had no dealings with the deceased—I did not owe him any money for beer.
Cross-examined. There sare five Woolleys working on the estate, my elder brother, two sons, and a nephew—the prisoner went away from home about 9.30 on the Friday morning before he gave himself up, so his mother tells me; I was not at home at the time—he did not come home after that Friday—where he slept that night I have no knowledge, or on the Saturday—he was not angry with me before he went away, that I know of—I saw very little of him the last four weeks he was at home—I suppose he would be annoyed at my having discharged him—I knew of the body being found on the same evening; my son told me of it—he said something like this, "O father, they have found the body of poor old Jack in No. 3," but the exact words I could not tell you positively—I did not see any appearance of confusion about him at any time; nothing but what you would think natural—I was there when the Inspector came to see him—he appeared quite cool and collected, a great deal cooler than me—when he spoke about the body being found, he spoke in a feeling manner; he seemed to be quite feeling about it—I saw him about 2.10 on the Saturday—he had his tea with me between 6 and 7 o'clock, when I came home from the Abbey—I did not notice his clothes particularly—there was nothing upon his clothes to attract my attention; no blood, or dirt, or anything of that kind—there was nothing at all amiss with him that day, that I know of—the clothes that were afterwards given up to the Inspector were the clothes that he was wearing on that day—when I came back on the Saturday afternoon, I found him working in the garden—he worked there the whole afternoon, without coat or waistcoat on—he kept on the same trowsers—a person, named Jackson, was working there with him—besides the wages that I gave him, he was receiving money about that time from the Savings' Bank—I gave him 10s., I think it was, that very week that he went to the Crystal Palace; that was besides his wages—I paid him the day's wages for his holiday, and we were making overtime that week—as contractor, I had to overlook the house, No. 3, as well as the other houses—there had not been any work done in it for some months before the murder—I had not been in the house for some months—we left it under second colour, and I went over it to see that it was done all through—no tools were left lying about the house at that time, that I know of—this matter was a good deal discussed amongst the men; it was the common talk all day along—I have heard it discussed when my son has been present; I have discussed it with him myself—I have seen some of the men, when they have been discussing it in his presence, suggest the way in which it was done; some said it was done one way, and some another, imitating the way in which it was done; moat probably I have done so myself.
Re-examined. I have got his Savings Bankbook(produced)—there is 4s., left now—he had none there in August; he took the last out the last week in July—I have no doubt about the clothes that the police took away—the coat was one of my own, a brown-coloured sort of coat; I think the trowsers were a sort of grey, rather lighter than those I have on—those were the very clothes he was at work in.
JULIAN GEORGE WOOLLEY . I am the prisoner's brother—on Saturday, 13th August, I was at 15, Bolton Gardens—I was paid my wages there, and saw the prisoner there—I did not see him afterwards, till the Monday
morning—I had transactions with the deceased, now and then; very little—I occasionally bought beer of him—I never borrowed any money of him—I had no outstanding account with him on 13th August.
Cross-examined. I did deal with him occasionally—I always paid ready money for what I had of him; not at the end of the week, I paid for what I had as I went along—there are other Woolleys besides myself and father—it was three or four minutes after 1 o'clock on the Saturday, that the prisoner came to me for his wages—we were not talking at all—he came straight in, and I gave him his money—I think it was 14s., 3d.
GUILTY—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury — DEATH .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, June 7th, 1871.
before Mr. Justice Blackburn.
The Jury recommended John Baker to mercy, on account of his youth, and thinking he was drawn into the crime by the other prisoners.
HORNSBY and H. BAKER— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
JOLLY— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
HORSLEY— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
JOHN BAKER— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
458. HENRY BASTIN (33), and ANNIE BASTIN (35) , Feloniously setting fire to the dwelling-house of Thomas Whiteman, persons being therein. MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
MARY WHITEMAN . I am the wife of Thomas Whiteman, of Woodchester Street, Paddington—the prisoners lodged in our house; they occupied two parlours—on Wednesday morning, a fortnight ago to-day, I woke up with my baby, and heard the prisoners talking rather loudly—the day was then breaking; it was about 3.30, and I went to sleep again—I afterwards heard a noise like somebody running about the passage—I dressed myself quickly, and went down—the house was full of smoke, and the witness Smith was putting out the fire—I saw coals and wood about 2ft. from the hearth—I cannot say whether they were piled up, because the fire was out—there was no fender on the hearth—my husband had distrained on the prisoners on the Saturday before.
Cross-examined. They occupied the two parlours as bed-room and sitting-room—they had three children—I cannot say where they slept, as I never was in the room after they were in bed—when I went into the room where the fire was, no children were there—they were in the back room, undressed—the male prisoner is a tailor, and works in Regent Street—whatever work he did was done in the room where the fire was—he used to sit up lute—I do not know whether he was working or not—it was about 4.15 when I went into the room—I saw a coat, which had been partly worked up, placed in a box, near the door—the furniture of the room had been taken—I did not soc a candlestick in the room, or a candle burnt down, between
some wood—I occupy two kitchens, and a bed-room for my children, on the same floor—I slept beneath the prisoners, in the back kitchen—my husband is a gentleman's servant, and does not sleep there—two families of lodgers were up stairs.
Re-examined. No candlestick was taken in the inventory—I do not know what light they had—I saw the children that morning undressed, but do not know where they had slept.
COURT. Q. Whose property were the bedclothes which were burnt? A. Mrs. Bastin's.
CHARLES SMITH . I live at 96, Woodchester Street, and am a potman—on the morning of 24th May, about 4.15, I heard cries of "Fire!" in the street, from a man who was passing—I ran down, and found Whiteman's door, No. 87, on the latch, not fastened, and as I ran in at the parlour-door where the fire was, the male prisoner stooped to throw a jug of water to put the fire out—I said "Have you set the place on fire? and I took the jug out of his hand, and well slothed the two fires—the parlour is on the ground floor—there was no fire in the fire-place, but there was a fire, about 11/4ft. high, of flame, above 3ft. from the hearth, and another distinct fire 5ft. off, in the middle of the bed, which had been left for the children to sleep in—the children were not there, they were in the back room; the prisoners only were in the room when I went in, and both were fully dressed—they did not say a word, bat as I went in the male prisoner stooped, and made one douse with the jug, and I took it out of his hand, and partly put it on the one fire, and partly put the water on to the bed—I said "Go and get some more water, and I will try and put it out"—I took the clothing off the bed, and soaked it well in water, and threw it into the bed—eventually I put it out, and the coal and wood I took out into the street—the coal was on the wood floor, 3ft. from the fire-place, and the wood was in the middle of the coal—the wood was burning, and the coal crackling, not quite alight—some rags were also burning, I should think it was a quilt—the middle of the bed was burning, and the top quilt, and the window-work was burning through the heat of the fire which I put out—there was about 5ft. between the fire on the floor and the bed, half a foot from that fire to the window—there were two distinct fires; the window sashes were connected with both, and the cupboard-door, which had caught, was connected with the one nearest to the hearth—neither of the prisoners said anything till the constable came, and then the female prisoner said that Mrs. Whiteman and I must have set it on fire while she was out—she also said that if it caught fire, she bought a penny candle on Tuesday eight, and put it in a bundle of wood, and put it on a bushel basket, and that was how it must have caught fire—that was at the same tune that she said that Mrs. Wightman and I must have set fire to it—the said that she stuck the candle in the bundle of wood, and put it in the basket, and went out at 10 o'clock, and me and Mrs. Whiteman must have set it on fire, and that was all she knew about it—there were two baskets in the room, and a new coat, which was being made—I have seen the floor since the fire was cleared away; there is a new flooring there now—they have had to have a new cupboard-door, but if the window-sashes are stopped, and painted over, I think they will do.
Cross-examined. The jug which the man had would hold two gallons—when I went in he picked it up from the corner of the fire-place, 5 or 6 ft. from the first fire—it was not in his hand when I went in—I saw a bundle
of wood in the room, but no candle—if there had been a candle it must have burnt down to the edge of the wood, but there were no signs of any grease—the basket might have been burnt—I saw fragments of a basket—the rags were not a woman's underclothing; there were towels among them—there was some underclothing; it is no interest to me to tell a lie—I saw a new pair of her boots burnt, but no children's boots—I saw no under-clothing burnt, or the remnants of it—the fire was 5ft. on the other side of the bed; it could not have set fire to the coverlet—the quilt could not have been set on fire by the heat, because the window and door were shut—the male prisoner did not take the coverlet off the bed when I went in—he seemed to have had his clothes on all night—the half-made coat was in a box, or part of a box, close to the door, untouched—I think if I had not gone in, the whole would have been set on fire, because no one would have known of it, and the inhabitants as well—it is no interest to me to come up here—I am a friend of Mr. Whiteman's, a very particular friend—I went into the next room to where the fire was—there were no possible means for them to sleep in that room unless they slept on the floor—the children came into the room where I was, in their night clothes.
GEORGE PREST (Policeman X 358). On the morning of 24th May I was called to 87, Woodchester Street, and saw the prisoners in the room where the fire was—I asked the male prisoner how he accounted for the fire—he said that he could not account for it at all—the woman said that she went out at 10 on the evening previous, and bought a penny candle and a bundle of wood, that she went out at 10 o'clock and returned at 11, and she supposed Smith and the landlady had set the room on fire during the time she was away—she afterwards said that she placed the bundle of wood at the top of a hamper, and stuck the candle in the bundle of wood, and she supposed the candle burnt down and set the wood on fire—the fires were out then, but the room was very hot—that was all she said—the floor was burnt in two places—one was about a foot from the corner of the cupboard, and the other the other side of the window—one place was where the bed had stood.
GEORGE BLAKE (Policeman X 56). On 25th May I went to 87, Woodchester Street, and saw the remains of two distinct fires—the two prisoners were in the front parlour, and I said to the female "How do you account for this?"—she said "I know nothing about it"—on the way to the station I said "It is likely to be a very serious matter, you must know something about it"—she said "All that I can account for is, that I put a candle in a bundle of wood, and it must have burnt down and set the wood on fire; it serves her right for forcing us into one room"—I suppose she meant into the front parlour.
Cross-examined. I do not believe they are foreigners.
THOMAS NEWSOM . I am an appraiser, of Cirencester Place, Paddington—I was employed by Thomas Whiteman to distrain on the prisoners' goods—the female prisoner said that she would make them repent of it, she would go and drown the children, and herself afterwards—I took pity on them, and left them the bed.
Cross-examined. She was very excited, she fainted away—no candlestick was taken in the inventory, the only candlestick was a bottle on the shelf—the second room was very bare—I only valued the whole of the goods at 10s.,; but I left the bed and a few things, as I took pity on the children—the prisoners had a right to take away the bed and the clothes, because they were not in my inventory.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY and MR. THOMAS GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN GAMBLE . I was gate-man to Messrs. Heal & Sons—I have known the prisoner three years, that is since I have been in the service—he was there before me—he was a packer first, and afterwards a store-keeper—he was acquainted with everything connected with all the rooms—he left the service on a Friday night, somewhere about 20th April—either the day he left, or the day previous, I was in the yard, which is partially covered, and is near the packing room—I asked him if he was about leaving—he said "Yes"—I told him I was sorry to hear it—he said "Well, that is noconsequence"—I said "Perhaps you have got something better to go to?"—he said that he did not know about that, he had got that to prove, or words to that effect—as I was about leaving, he went entirely from the subject, and said "I will have my revenge yet"—his eyes were directed to the factory at the time he spoke, and he said "I will make an alteration there"—he was looking in the direction of the packing room the whole time—this plan (produced) correctly describes the ground plan of the premises, as near as I can say—Alfred Mews is no thoroughfare, it is composed of stables and workshops—Francis Street is a very large thoroughfare.
HARRIES HEAL . I am manager of the firm, and am the son of one of the partners—on the morning of 28th April, between 3.15 and 3.45, I was returning home from a ball, and was going to sleep on the premises—I saw the packing room in a blaze, and the room over it—the flames came through the roof—in the packing room there were goods, previous to delivery, waiting for packing, and straw, and mats, and canvas—after that the fire extended to the mattrass shop and store—this red border represents the part which was nearly entirely consumed—there are two iron folding gates, under an archway, 20ft. high, in Francis Street; the gates only reach to 7 or 8 ft. from the top—the fire did not extend to the gates—anyone could very easily get access to the gates by climbing up the gateway; they would then get access to the yard; the premises generally are round at the yard, the packing room included—the entrance to the packing room is straight opposite anybody going down the gateway—when past the gates, there is no obstacle to getting to the packing room; the door is generally locked, but a person knowing the premises could get in; there is a swing window only hung, and there is also a doorway on the first floor, 9 or 10ft. from the ground, the door of which is generally open, where it is customary for men to go up and down; in fact, it is more natural for the men to go in that way than the other—a person being in the packing room and wishing to return to Alfred Mews would go up the steps and across an iron bridge, through a second little alley, and across the store rooms to the doorway overlooking Alfred Mews; that doorway is 10 ft., and the bottom of the window 2 or 3 ft.—the prisoner has worked for us five years—I had personally no complaint to make of him—he had notice to leave a week before he went, and he left on the Thursday proceeding the fire, which would be the 20th or 21st—I think he went on the night of the 20th; it was Thursday, if Thursday was the 20th—persons were sleeping on the premises, and I should have slept in the dwelling marked on the plan.
GEORGE MEECH . I am a porter to Messrs. Heal & Son, of Tottenham Court Road, and sleep in the warehouse—on Thursday night, before the fire, I went over the premises at 10.45, as it is my custom to do—the loft
door was, I believe, closed, but there was no fastening to it—I turned out the gas, and fastened and locked the packing room door outside—I am able to say that all the gas was turned out, and the premises perfectly safe.
GEORGE JOSEPH LINTHWAITE . I am clerk and manager in the packing department of Messrs. Heal—the prisoner was also in their employment, he knew the premises well—I had cause to complain of him latterly, on account of his intemperate habits—I had spoken to him about it on many occasions; not latterly, but eighteen months before—that would have nothing to do with this—about a day before he gave in his resignation I told him that if his superior did not take notice of it I should speak to the general manager, and I did so—on the following day I was doing my usual duty, and asked him what goods were for the next day's delivery; his manner was very insulting, and afterwards he told me in an insulting way, that I might go to Mr. Brown—I rose to do so, but met his superior, who said that there was no occasion to do so, as he had given notice himself—I then heard that he had given notice to quit.
SARAH ANN TILYER . I am a widow, of 23, Huntley Street, near Messrs. Heal's—on the Friday morning in question, I was awoke by a cry of "Fire!"—I distinctly heard the crackling of wood, and came out, and found Messrs. Heal's place in Francis Street, on fire—I went back home to call up one of the workmen—I came back in not more than two minutes, and then I saw the prisoner—I said "It is a fearful" or "dreadful fire"—he made some answer, but I do not recollect what it was—I knew that he worked at Messrs. Heal's, and am quite certain he is the man—I work there, and know him quite well—he was not offering assistance—he was looking on, the same as myself, standing behind me when I turned round—people were assisting.
SAMUEL ROBERT SMITH . I live at 3, Phoenix Place, Somers Town, and am a horsehair carder—about 5 o'clock on this morning, while the fire was burning, I saw a rope hanging from the first-floor window of the warehouse, leading into our workshop in Alfred Mews—that is part of Messrs. Heal's premises—there were two splices in the rope—a neighbour who went with me, drew my attention to the rope—that is how I came to know of it.
GEORGE SIMPSON (Policeman G 280). On 8th May, about 5 p.m., I was in Whitecross Street—the prisoner came up, and asked me to have a glass of ale; I refused—he said "Stop a moment; I want to give myself in custody"—he then went into the Brewery Tap beer-shop, in Whitecross Street, came out, and said "I want to give myself in custody for setting fire to Messrs. Heal & Son's, Tottenham Court Road, last Friday week, 28th April. I got over the gate, and went into the packing-room, and set fire to the place with matches"—I said "Are you telling me the truth?"—he said "I am, man to man; I done it, and I don't want anyone to suffer for what I have done myself; I done it, and will suffer for it. I done it because I thought it would make work"—he said all that at once, all at the same time—I again asked him if it was true, what he had told me, and he said that it was—I asked him why he had made the statement to me, and the reason he had not made it before—he said "Because I could not keep it to myself any longer"—I said "Why did you do it?"—he said "Because the Devil tempted me"—I asked him what time it was—he said "About 3.30 in the morning," and he said "I worked for the firm six years"—I took him to Old Street Station, and then to George Street Station, where he made a statement to the Inspector—I did not notice what he said then, but I made
a memorandum of his statement to me four or fire minutes after I took him, and therefore I am quite certain that that was the substance of what he said—he had been drinking, but he was not drunk—I am quite certain he understood what I said; he seemed to reason with me on the subject very well.
ROBERT HUBBARD (Police Inspector E). On 8th May, about 7.30 p.m., Simpson brought the prisoner to the station, and said in substance what he has now stated—I said to the prisoner, "Be careful what you say, because this is a very serious matter for any man to confess. You hare heard what the constable states to me: is that true?"—he said "Yes"—I asked his name—he said "George Broomfield," and that he had no certain home—I asked what he was; he said, a labourer, and he worked at Messrs. Heal's for five years, in Tottenham Court Road—I said "Do you still adhere to what you have said to the constable?"—he said "Yes"—I then asked him how he got into the premises—he said "I climbed over the gate in Francis Street, and went to the packing-room"—I asked him how he got from the premises afterwards—he said "I let myself down from the packing-room by a rope"—I said "I think you have been drinking"—he said "No, I have not"—I said "I am afraid you are labouring under some delusion"—he said "I am not"—I then repeated the first caution, and said "This is a very serious matter for any man to confess to"—he said "I know it is"—I then took the charge, and locked him up on his own confession of setting fire to Messrs. Heal's premises—when I first asked him his reason, he said that he did it to make work—I said "Oh, nonsense; Mr. Heal, no doubt, is insured to the full extent"—he then said "To prevent other people being accused"—he did not seem drunk at all; he seemed quite composed, and quite rational—I said that he had been drinking; that was from his general appearance, and his face appeared flushed.
CHARLES PALMER . I am a clerk to Messrs. Heal, and live at 11, Francis Street—I was aroused by the alarm of fire, hastened down stairs with another young man who slept in the house, and went into the street—in five or ten minutes I saw the prisoner in Francis Street, looking down the gateway—he could see the fire—I called out to him; I cannot lay for certain what I said, but I think I said "Broomfield, what are you doing there?" or words to that effect—a ladder was usually kept in that yard, and on the morning of the fire it was standing against the loft door over the packing-room to enable people to ascend or descend that way—it was there while the fire was burning—up that ladder it would be easy for anybody to get into the packing room above.
Prisoner's Defence. I wish to point out that there was no cause for animosity on my part against Mr. Heal; I never had a cause. I have lived there five or six years, and never had a word with him, or with the head manager, therefore, I could have no cause to commit the crime. I am sorry to say it is entirely through drink; it was drink which caused me to give myself up, and my object in doing so was to get into a gaol to get away from drink, little thinking of the consequences, or what would become of me. I am not guilty.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, June 7th, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
460. LEVI COX (32), ANDREW MUSTARD (49), GEORGE BLACK-MAN (30), JOHN MAYNARD (50), and GEORGE ROUSSLAR (61), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a quantity of flour and a mixture of oats, bran, and chaff, of Sidney Hopton Hadley, and others, the masters of Cox, Black-man, and Maynard—MUSTARD and ROUSSLAR received good characters. MUSTARD— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. ROUSSLAR— Two Years' Imprisonment. COX, BLACKMAN, and MAYNARD, Five Years' Penal Servitude each. And
461. JOHN GRIFFITHS (26) , to forging and uttering an endorsement on an order for the payment of 35l. 5s., 2d., with intent to defraud, and also to having been before convicted in May, 1866.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
EMMA CULVERWELL . I manage the Clarendon Hotel, in Arundel Street, Strand, for my father, Major Culverwell—the prisoner came to lodge there on 18th March—he was there nearly eight weeks—he was asked for his account at the end of the first fortnight, and he paid it—at the end of five weeks I sent the bill in again—he took no notice of that—I sent it in again the week after, and he sent me down this cheque—that was on 12th May—I sent it to my banker's on the 13th, and it was returned on the 7th—(The cheque was dated 12th May, 1871, for 7l. 14s. 6d., drawn on the Manchester and Liverpool District Banking Company, and signed "J. C. Stuart")—The prisoner left on Monday, the 15th, before the cheque was returned.
ALFRED NOAD . I received this cheque from the prisoner on 12th May, two or three days after I had presented his bill—I took the cheque to Miss Culverwell—I took it back to the prisoner, in consequence of something she said—I asked him if he could get it cashed for Miss Culverwell—he said if Miss Culverwell sent it to her banker's the next morning, they would forward the cheque to Manchester, and it would be paid—I took the cheque back to her.
DONALD KING . I am cashier at Twining's bank, 215, Strand—on 13th May, this cheque was sent there by Miss Culverwell—it was crossed—it was sent to Manchester in the usual way, and was returned, marked "No account"—we charged the account with it.
RICHARD ALLEN . I live at Manchester, and am in the employment of the Manchester and Liverpool District Banking Company—we received this cheque on 16th May—I have searched through the books for the last three years, and no such person has an account at that bank; it was returned in the ordinary way.
Prisoner. Q. Has it been presented again? A. No, there was no such account at the time I received the cheque—I don't know of any account being opened in that name.
THOMAS PARTRIDGE (Detective Officer E). I apprehended the prisoner on 19th May, at 19, Adam Street, Strand—I told him I was a police-officer—I went there to make enquiries respecting another cheque for 5l., which he offered to a man in Holborn—I told him I should take him for forging and uttering a cheque to Miss Culverwell, for 7l. 14s., 6d.—he said "I received that cheque from a traveller, a friend of mine I have known for years, and I thought it was all right"—I took him to the station, and searched him—I found a receipt for the cheque, and several other papers.
The prisoner, in his defence, urged that there was no proof that the cheque
was a forgery, and stated that he received it from a man who owed him some money, and who represented a house in Glasgow.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES LARMAN . I live at 3, George Street, Wentworth Street, and am a labourer—on Saturday, 20th May, about 10 o'clock, I was in Wentworth Street—I saw the prisoner, leaning against the wall, some yards before I got up to him—I knew him before—as I passed him, he put his foot out and knocked me down, face forwards—someone else came up, and held my shoulders—the prisoner put his hand in my trowsers pocket, and tore the pocket out—there was 22s., 6d. in it—he ran away after that, and when I got up, I could not see anyone—I spoke to a constable on duty—I went to the station-house about two hours after, and I picked the prisoner out from the middle of a lot of men—he is the man—I knew him before—I had a slight scratch on the eye; I don't know whether it was done then or not.
WILLIAM LBAKER (Detective Officer H). I apprehended the prisoner, at 64, Went worth Street, about 12 o'clock on Saturday night, 20th May—he was asleep—I woke him up, and said "You must go to the station, for assaulting a policeman, and robbery"—he said "All right, I will go with you"—he was the worse for liquor—I took him to the station, and placed him with twelve men—I first took in the constable who was assaulted, and he failed to identify him—I then brought Larman in, and he picked the prisoner out, and said "That is the man that robbed me"—I found 1s., 7 3/4 d. on the prisoner.
Witnesses for the Defence.
HENRY FARROW . I am a licensed victualler, and keep the Archers, Osborne Street, Whitechapel—I have known the prisoner two or three years—on Saturday, 20th May, he was drinking in my house between 8 and 9 o'clock, with three or four others—I don't recollect seeing him after that.
Cross-examined. My house is about 120 yards from Wentworth Street.
GEORGE SMITH . I am potman to Mr. Farrow—I know the prisoner as a customer—on Saturday, 20th May, I saw him in the house between 6 and 7 o'clock in the evening—the last time I saw him was between 9 and 10 o'clock—he was standing in front of the bar, with another, or two—I can't say who they were.
WILLIAM HAYES . I am a bricklayer's labourer, and live at 6, George Yard—I have known the prisoner from a boy—on Saturday, 20th May, I saw him at Mr. Farrow's, between 5 and 6 o'clock—the latest time I saw him was between 7 and 8 o'clock.
MICHAEL HAYES . I am no relation to the last witness—I have known the prisoner about two years—on Saturday, 20th May, I saw him at the Archers, between 5 and 6 o'clock, the first time, and then between 8 and 9 o'clock—that is the last I saw of him.
He also PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted, in July, 1864. Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. W. M. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD FLEURY . I am a bootmaker, at 243, Mile End Road—on the evening of 15th May, I was sitting in my back parlour—about 6.30 a man named Bryant rushed into the shop, said something to me, and gave me a pair of my boots—I was shown another pair at the station—they were safe in my shop a short time before—they are worth about 10s.,
GEORGE BRYANT . I live at 298, Mile End Road, and keep a clothes shop—I saw the two prisoners between 6 and 7 o'clock—I saw them pass the shop of Mr. Fleury about twenty yards—they then returned to the stall where the boots were kept—I saw Williams take two pair of boots from the stall—they went about twenty yards, and then divided the boots between them, and each carried a pair—I followed them—they took a sharp turning, and I called out "Stop thief!"—they took to their heels and ran—Murray threw down the boots he had—I picked them up—I still followed till I lost sight of them—I then took the boots back to Mr. Fleury—I am quite sure Murray is the man that dropped the boots.
WILLIAM CHADWICK . I am a silk weaver, at 19, East Street, Bethnal Green—I was with Mr. Johnson coming down Grafton Street—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw the two prisoners running—Johnson was stabbed in the arm by Williams—he cried to me "I am stabbed," as Williams passed him—I pursued them—Williams threw a pair of boots away—he was afterwards stopped in the Carlton Road—the prisoners were both running together, but after Williams threw the boots away, they separated—I kept Williams in sight till he was taken into custody—he was stopped once before, but got away again—I afterwards saw blood on Johnson's arm—we were walking side by side when he was stabbed.
Murray's Statement before the Magistrate: "I am guilty of stealing the boots."
MURRAY GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. W. M. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD HALL . I am a carpenter, and live at 28, Russell Street, Bethnal Green—on the night of 15th May, I was in Norfolk Street—I saw the prisoner running—someone said "Stop him! stop him!"—I caught hold of him—he said "What are you holding me for?"—I said "I am going to hold you till a policeman comes, and then I am going to give you in custody"—he made a sudden blow at me on the left arm—I thought he had hit me on the muscle of the arm—I saw him lift his hand again, and I saw a knife in his hand as he was preparing to give a second blow—I let go his arm then—he took to running—I found the blood running down my arm—I followed him something like 500 yards, I suppose, and I found that I was getting exhausted—I took up a stone as he was running, and threw it at him, but it missed him—he then turned round with the knife and made another stab, which missed—I was exhausted then and falling, and he stabbed me on the back—I fell on the kerb, and dislocated two of my fingers—I have hardly been able to do any work since—I got up and followed him as far as I could, till I became so dizzy I could go no farther—I
asked someone not to lose sight of him, and I went into a doctor's shop—I saw him make a stab at another party after he left me.
Prisoner. He tore my coat, and hit me in the mouth. Witness. I did not hit him; I might have torn hit coat, and I wish I had hit him.
JONATHAN BOVIS . I live at 1, Greenfield Street, York Street—on the evening in question, I saw the prisoner, Williams, in Grafton Street—I saw Hall holding him—I left him in Hall's charge, and went and caught the other prisoner.
JOHN READER . I live at 139, Bancroft Road, Mile End Road, and am a furniture dealer—on the evening of 15th May, I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoner and another man running—I saw Hall catch hold of the prisoner—the prisoner put his hand in his trowsers pocket and drew a knife out—it was open when he took it out—this is the knife (produced)—he made a plunge at Hall's arm, and struck him—he aimed a second blow, I don't know whether it struck or not; but I saw his arm drop—the prisoner broke away, and I pursued him, with Hall—Hall threw a stone at him and missed him—the prisoner turned round and stabbed Hall in the back—he fell down—I saw the knife in the prisoner's hand distinctly.
TIMOTHY DRISCOLL . I live at 10, John Street, Stepney, and am a box and packing case maker—on the night of 15th May, between 6 and 7 o'clock, I was in Globe Lane—I saw a number of persons running—I ran to see what was the matter—a young woman spoke to me—I saw Hall following the prisoner—I pursued him—as I was going to him I saw a boy with a stick in his hand—I took the stick from the boy—the prisoner faced me—I saw the knife in his hand—I hit him on the head with the stick—the stick flew out of my hand—I hit him in the mouth, and then we struggled from one part of the road to the other—he said "I will give the knife up to you, constable"—he closed it, and gave it up—I took him to the station myself, about a quarter of a mile distant—no police interfered till I got close to the station—when we got to the station, and he found I was not a constable, he threatened my life, and kicked me in the groin.
FREDERICK REILLEY . I am a surgeon, at 107, Globe Road, Mile End Road—on Monday evening, 15th May, Hall came to me—he was led into the surgery totally exhausted from loss of blood—he began to reel, and fell into a chair—I took his clothes off and examined him—I found two wounds—on the left side, over the sixth rib, there was a deep punctured wound, which, by the probe, went down on to the rib 2 in. in depth—I found that it glanced from right to left for 3 in.—it struck against the rib and glanced 2 in. or 3 in. to the left—it was just such a wound as would be inflicted by this knife—it must have been given with great violence—had it gone between the ribs it would have entered the pleura and caused death—I also found a wound on the arm, not very deep, but 2 in. in length—it bled most profusely—it was not such a dangerous wound as the chest wound—I had him conveyed to his bed, and kept him perfectly quiet several days—he is quite out of danger now—his fingers were very much sprained—it will be some time before he gets the use of his hand—I saw the knife at the Police Court; it had blood on it then.
Prisoner's Defence. Two or three of the men I don't know at all. I don't understand much English.
He was further charged with having been before convicted.
John Williams, convicted at the Thames Police Court, for stealing a pair of boots. Sentence, three months."—I had the prisoner in charge—he pleaded guilty—he is the same person.
GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
THE COURT ordered a reward of 10l. each to be given to Driscoll and Hall.
MR. BRINDLEY, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE BROWN the Defence.
GEORGE BATTBRSBEE . I am twelve years old, and live with my parents, at Caledonian Street—I am errand boy to Mr. Walker, of 9, Caledonian Street—the prisoner and her husband lodged there—on Saturday, 22nd April, she sent me for a pint of porter, and gave me a half-crown to pay for it—I had no money about me at the time—I went to the Queen's Arms, which is two or three minutes' walk—I saw Miss Marsh, the barmaid there, and asked her for the porter—it came to 1 1/2 d.—she served me, and I handed her the half-crown to pay for it—she put it in the tester, and then sent for a policeman, 28 Y R—she asked me who gave it to me—she did not let me go till a policeman came—he went with me to the prisoner's lodging—I left the beer, and took the jug back—the policeman took the half-crown—I called the prisoner up, and the policeman said to her "Your half-crown is bad"—she said "I did not know it"—he asked if she had got any more silver about her, and she said "No"—he said "Turn out your pockets"—she did so, and there was a half-crown, and 3d. in copper—he bounced the half-crown on the ground—he said she must go with him to the Queen's Arms—she put on her bonnet, and went—I went, too—I heard Miss Marsh say the second half-crown was bad—I went to the station with the policeman and the prisoner—I did not hear what passed on the way to the station; I was in front.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Waters was there when she sent me for the beer—I did not hear the prisoner say she owed Mrs. Waters a shilling—her husband plays the cornet—she sent up for me to go and fetch the beer—I went down, and Mrs. Waters was there, too—I think they were talking together—Mrs. Waters is the landlady of the house—her husband drives a ginger-beer van—I have very often fetched beer for the prisoner before, and she has given me the money; and Mrs. Waters has sent me, and given me the money for it—I have been constantly.
SARAH MARSH . I live at the Queen's Arms, in the Caledonian Road—I serve in the bar—the house where the prisoner lodges is thirty or forty doors off, I should think—on Saturday afternoon, 22nd April, about 4.30, the little boy came in, and I served him with a pint of porter, which was 1 1/2 d.—he handed me a half-crown—I tried it, and found it was bad—I asked him where he brought it from—he told me—I detained him, and sent for a constable—I gave the constable the half-crown, and he left, with the boy—he came back shortly after, with the prisoner and the boy, and I gave her in charge—the policeman gave me another half-crown,
which I discovered was also bad—when the policeman showed it to me, he said "I think this is a good one"—I said "No, it is not good; it is bad, like the other"—I saw it was bad, the moment it was handed to me, and I afterwards broke it in the detector—it was a very good imitation, indeed—the prisoner said "I hope you won't give me in custody, after knowing me so long"—I said it was my duty to do so—I have known her for years, I daresay.
Cross-examined. They are very good imitations, indeed—the policeman said he rung it on the floor, and the floor was wet, and I suppose that was the way he was deceived—I don't know Mrs. Waters any more than I do Mrs. Ackland, as a customer—she sometimes sent for her beer, and sometimes she came—she has only been in the neighbourhood a month—I had lost sight of her for about twelve months before that.
GEORGE LOCK (Police Sergeant Y 721). I knew a constable named George Waghorn, in the force—his number was Y R 28—he died on 7th May—I saw him shortly after his death—I have seen him write, and know his handwriting—I believe that to be his signature.
Cross-examined. I saw him dead and cold in his bed.
DANIEL WHITING (Police Sergeant G 8). I was before the Magistrate when the prisoner was there upon this charge—George Waghorn was also present—I heard him give evidence—his deposition was taken in the presence of the prisoner—he was sworn, and Cross-examined by the prisoner's attorney—I saw him sign his deposition after it had been read over to him—that is the signature—I took the charge at the station on 22nd April—Waghorn gave me the two half-crowns at the time the charge was taken, and I have had them ever since—Mr. Cook was the Magistrate who heard the case—(The deposition of George Waghorn, Policeman Y R 28, was put in, and read, as follows: "On Saturday, the 22nd instant, I was fetched to the Queen's Arms public-house, Caledonian Road. I found the first witness there. Miss Marsh told me something, and gave me a bad half-crown. In consequence of what the boy told me, I went with him to 9, Caledonian Street; I saw the prisoner there. The boy said 'That is the woman who gave me the half-crown, and sent me for the beer.' I said to her 'It is a bad one.' She said 'I did not know it.' I said 'Have you any more silver in your pocket? She said 'No.' I said 'Turn your pocket out, and let me see.' She turned her pocket out, and there was a half-crown, and 3d. in coppers. She gave me the half-crown. I said 'I don't know whether it is a good one or a bad one; but it looks very well.' I sounded it on the floor, and I could not tell then whether it was good or bad. I said 'You must go into the Queen's Arms, along with me.' When we got there, I saw the last witness. I said 'This is all the money she has got; it is another half-crown; I think it is a good one, but I am not sure.' Miss Marsh said 'Oh, that's a bad one, too,' and she broke the second one, and said she should give the prisoner in custody. On the way to the station, the prisoner said 'For God's sake, policeman, don't you say you found the second piece; if you do, I know it will go hard with me. You keep that, and I will see you when I come out.' I produce both half-crowns; one I took from the prisoner at her house. Both are bad." Cross-examined: "I could not tell it was bad; I am not much of a judge. Prisoner said she did not know it was bad. When I offered Miss Marsh the half-crown, prisoner said 'Perhaps you'll say that is bad.' Prisoner was searched at the station.")
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, June 7th, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
WILLIAM HORSELEY (Police Inspector N). On the 10th May the prisoner came to me, at Paddington Station, and said he wished to give himself up for an attempt to murder the prosecutrix—I told him to be very careful what he said—he said he knew what he was about—he then confessed that he had stabbed her—he was perfectly sober.
EMMA ROSE . I am cook to Dr. Hague, of 14, Chapel Street, Belgrave Square, where the prosecutrix was housemaid—I saw the prisoner at my master's on Sunday night, 7th May—I opened the door to him, he asked for her—I called her, she was upstairs, she came down—I heard what passed—he asked her if she would give him an answer, and before she could do so he struck her with something—I heard the blow—I caught hold of him and threw him down—she ran away into the dining-room, and I went for assistance—he shut the street door and walked down the road, and began to run away—the hall was in darkness at the time—I saw her shortly after he ran away, and blood was streaming from her forehead—she fainted away.
FRANCES CRACKNELL . I am a housemaid at Dr. Hague's—I have known the prisoner eleven or twelve months—he called to see me on 7th May—he said when I came to the street door "Will you give me an answer?" and before I could, I was struck on my head—I did not see what with—I bled very much—I was not able to be removed from my master's for a week, in consequence—I am not now in his employment—the prisoner had been cointing me.
DR. JOHN BEMERSYDE HAGUE . The prosecutrix was in my service—I saw her on the middle of the following day, the 8th of May—there was a very serious wound on the left side of her head, above the temple—she had lost a great deal of blood—it was a deep stab wound—it must have been done with a very sharp instrument.
Prisoner's Defence. I always believed Frances Cracknell to be true to me, and on this night I saw her with a young man, and I asked her if she intended to make a fool of me; she could not give me an answer, but said she would kick me in the road. I did not mean any harm to her.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding—Recommended to mercy — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
CORNELIUS DRISCOLL . I live at 32, King David Lane, Shadwell, and am a plumber—on the night of the 15th May I went to bed at 11 o'clock, leaving the house safe—I heard a noise at about 1.45—I went on the leads at the back, over my shop—I saw nobody at first—I went back, and came out again and saw two men—they were getting over the paling of my yard into the next promises—I cried "Police!"—they came up and the prisoners were caught—I examined, with the police, my premises—I found a sash cat about 41/2 in. by 5 in., and a piece of the glass cut, and the lock of the iron door in the shop forced open—no property was lost.
Blackburn. Q. What was the time from the first time you were on the leads to the second time? A. I suppose about an hour or an hour and a half—I saw two men, bat I could not distinguish their faces.
JOHN STEMSON (Policeman K 21). I was on duty near the prosecutor's premises—about 2.15 in the morning, in Cable Street, I heard a cry of "Police!"—I ran up, and heard a noise proceeding from inside the timber yard, at the rear of the prosecutor's premises—I got over the wall—I saw the two prisoners trying to get away—I called to them, and they came to me, and said "If we are caught we give in, if you don't hurt us we won't ill-use you"—I went back to the yard, and found a screw-driver just where they got over—I examined the place, and saw a piece of glass taken out—that would enable them to open the door.
ROBERT SMITH (Police Sergeant K 47). I heard a cry of "Police!" on this morning—I ran out of the station, which is on the opposite side of the prosecutor's house—I saw the two prisoners; they came over a wall 7 ft. high, which leads into the street—I called to them, and they went back again into the timber-yard—I went round, and saw them in custody of the last witness—I found this dark lantern (produced) in the prosecutor's yard, where I first saw them coming over the wall, and this knife and three skeleton keys near where they were apprehended.
Blackburn's Defence. I never saw these things before till now. I was out and got a drop to drink, and only went into the yard to sleep there. I did not intend to steal.
Williams' Defence. I make the same statement; we heard a noise, and we got up and ran.
WILLIAMS— GUILTY —He was further charged with a former conviction.
GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
BLACKBURN— GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ABRAHAM SILVERBERG . I live at 13, Leman Street, Whitechapel, and am a tailor—on 8th of May I rose between 4 and 5 o'clock in the morning, and on coming down stairs I found the window open—it was safely shut the night before—I saw that four coats of my own, and three which I had to make up, were gone—they were safe the night before—these coats are mine (produced).
distance, and lost sight of them—I went back to where they were standing, and found two coats on the pavement, and one pushed down the grating—I have not the least doubt the prisoner is one of the men—I was about forty yards off—before the Magistrate I said the prisoner resembles one of the men—he looked back while he was running.
JAMES COWLEY (Policeman H 17). On Monday, 8th May, I was walking through Spital Street, Mile End—I saw the prisoner and another man walking along, with a parcel under the other man's arm—they separated when they saw me, and ran away—they threw the parcel away—I picked it up, opened it, and found it contained unfinished coats—on the Sunday morning following, I took the prisoner into custody—he said "I know nothing about it; you have the wrong man this time"—I knew him before.
JOHN BURROWS (Policeman H 23). I was with the last witness on this morning—I saw the prisoner and the other man throw the parcel down, and both ran up a court—I followed them, but some children got in my way, and I lost sight of them in consequence—I recognize the prisoner as one of the men.
Prisoner. They never saw me before in their lives; they have got the wrong man.
PLEADED GUILTY**— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
471. THOMAS HENLEY (33), and WILLIAM COX (25), PLEADED GUILTY to a burglary in the dwelling-house of George Jones, and stealing two table covers, and other articles, both having been before convicted of felony.— Ten Years' each, in Penal Servitude.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT CHILD (City Policeman 282). I was with Downes, in Skinner Street, Bishopsgate Street, on Tuesday, 16th May, about 3.30 in the afternoon—I there saw the prisoners—they were both together—I saw them press the side of several females—Smith was on the right of Fitzgerald—they were watching to see if they were being observed—I saw Fitzgerald put his hand into a lady's pocket—I seized them when they had got three or four yards away—I asked the lady had she lost anything—she said her purse was gone—I found the purse on the ground, by the side of Smith, and close to Fitzgerald—it contained 4s., 7 1/2 d., a brooch, two keys, and an envelope.
Smith. Q. Didn't you say before the Magistrate that you saw the third prisoner, who was discharged, try pockets? A. Yes—he gave a correct address—I said "Ladies, feel your pockets, see if you have lost your purse."
Fitzgerald. Q. Could you see what I was doing with the lady's pocket, amongst a crowd of people? Q. Yes, I was especially watching you.
CHARLOTTE HASTINGS . I am single, residing at 82, Bishopsgate Street—I was on this day in Skinner Street—I had in my pocket this purse (produced), these ear-rings, brooch, and 4s., 7 1/2 d.—I only missed my purse when the detectives spoke to me.
Smith. Q. Didn't the officer ask different ladies if they had lost their purses? A. did not hear him call out to anyone, except me.
Fitzgerald. Q. Did you see anybody else standing near your pocket? A. I did not see you take it.
Smith's Defence. I am innocent.
Fitzgerald's Defence. I don't know anything about it at all.
SMITH— GUILTY .**
FITZGERALD— GUILTY —He was further charged with a former conviction at Clerkenwell, in July, 1869, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.** Seven Years' each in Penal Servitude.
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MR. BOTTOMLEY the Defence.
JOHN BURROWS (Policeman H 23). On the 8th of March last I went to Church Street—I saw the female prisoner there—I asked her if she had any tea—she said "No"—I searched the place, and found one bag full of tea—she said she knew nothing about it—I found some boxes—she said I should get nothing out of her—I took her to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I ascertained that she was a married woman, living there with her husband.
JAMES COWLEY (Policeman H R 17). I was with the last witness on this occasion—I heard what he has deposed to—I found several packets of tea—I asked White if he had taken any tea to Church Street—he said no, he had not been that way—I told him I should take him into custody for stealing two chests of tea—he said he knew nothing about them—I found two packets of tea and six sacks of malt at 51, Church Street, and 400 empty bags—on the 2nd of May, while waiting to bring the prisoners in, White said "I have done well for my 1l. 6d., for taking the tea there."
Cross-examined by MR. BOTTOMLEY. He told me that Mr. Lewis was going to prosecute him—he was in respectable employ at Rood Lane.
JOHN DALE . I am a dairyman, living at 8, Village Street, Mile End—on 11th March I was in Church Street—I saw a cart in front of No. 51—I saw White carry two chests of tea into the house, and Ruffell one chest—I saw Ruffell put up the tail board of the cart, and White drove away—this was about 2 o'clock.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Ruffell is the brother of the husband of the female prisoner.
JOHN HOSKISSON (Police inspector H). On 11th March I went to 51, Church Street, about 5 o'clock in the evening—I saw 400 sugar bags—I found, in the front room, five packages of tea, and two broken chests up the chimney—I told Mrs. Ruffell I should charge her with being in possession of this property—she said she knew nothing about it—I asked where her husband was—she replied "Out"—she said the packages of tea were shaken out of some sacks that her husband had bought—she said the others were brought to her by some man to ask her permission to keep them in the yard on that day; she should not know the man again—she said she did not know White—I afterwards apprehended Ruffell, who said he knew nothing about it; but at the Police Station, when the charge was read over to him,
he said he was in Church Street, and saw his brother's wife, and stood and spoke to her a few minutes, and had a pint of beer with her, and there was a cart standing at the door at that time, but he had had nothing to do with it.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. There were other men charged with this robbery, but discharged.
HENRY FORDHAM . I am a delivery foreman at the tea department in St. Katherine Docks—on 11th March I delivered some tea to John Hayhurst Venn—I recognize these portions of the chests as constituting parts of the stolen chest, by the numbers, and by these two heads.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I checked those chests on 11th March—they were part of 50 chests sent out.
Cross-examined by MR. BOTTOMLEY. I did not count them—I check the numbers—it is ordinary cargo.
FREDERICK BROWN . I was in the service of Mr. Hares, in Lower Thames Street—I drove a van on 11th March, containing 50 chests of tea, to Nicholson's Wharf—I delivered them at the shipping wharf—I know White, by seeing him at the Custom House Quay, waiting about with other carmen.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I did not count the numbers; we can't tell the numbers—there were no chests missed at the time.
NOT GUILTY .
MATHER PLEADED GUILTY .
JOHN KIMM . I am a cabman, living at 42, Cromer Street, Gray's Inn Road—Mother lived with his father and mother in the same house—on 18th May last, at 7 o'clock in the evening, I left home, and locked my room door quite safe, and my property secure—about 8.30 on the morning of the 19th I returned, when I found the door open, the bed clothes gone, the boxes cleaned out, the money and a new hat gone—these are my property (produced)—this was all in my room—I never gave either prisoners authority to deal with it—I never saw Johnson before.
THOMAS PELLATT (Policeman E 385). On 19th May, about 3.20, I was on duty near the Coal Yard, Drury Lane—I saw the prisoners there—Johnson had a bundle under his arm—my suspicions caused me to follow them, but before I could overtake them, they passed by Short's Gardens—I heard a door slam—I lost sight of them—I spoke to 382, who went inside the house; I waited outside—he called out that the prisoners were getting over the wall—I sprung my rattle; assistance came—I went inside, following the prisoners, and found them in the yard—Johnson denied having a bundle, and said I was mistaken—we went down into the cellar of the house, and there found the bundle produced, under the stairs.
JOHN BOOKER (Policeman E 382). My attention was called on the morning in question by the last witness—I went into the back yard of 20, Short's Gardens—I saw the prisoners on the top of the brick wall—they
were just going to get down—about 3.20 in the morning—I got over after them, and found them sitting in the water closet—I asked them what they were doing there, and Johnson said, having no money, he had gone there for a lodging—he denied having a bundle—we found the bundle in the cellar.
Johnson's Defence. He never asked me that about the bundle. I had been to sea, lost all my clothes, and went into this back yard to sleep there. I met this young man, who said he would give me something if I carried this parcel for him, and I did so.
JOHNSON— NOT GUILTY .
MATHER— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, June 8th, 1871.
Before Mr. Justice Byles.
475. WALTER TREGELLAS (47), and JAMES TREGELLAS (46), were indicted for unlawfully soliciting one Benjamin Duke to deliver to them a certain noxious drug, with intent to procure the miscarriage of Margaret Jane Southey; there were other Counts describing the thing as "a certain poison and a certain noxious thing;" one Count (the 9th) was a general one for a conspiracy to procure the miscarriage.
MESSRS. BEASLEY and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. DIGBY SEYMOUR, Q.C., with MESSRS. POLAND and NASMYTH the Defence.
The defendants were the uncles of Margaret Jane Southey, a single woman, twenty years of age; her mother was dead, and her father had deserted her in America. She came over to this country, at her uncles' invitation, to be under their care; after her arrival she was found to be with child, and in order to avoid disgrace, the defendants applied to a surgeon to supply them with something which should cause the child to be born dead; he, after communicating with the police, supplied them with some harmless medicine, and after several interviews, they were taken into custody. The details of the evidence were quite unfit for publication; but upon these facts the counsel for the defendants submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury. MR. JUSTICE BYLES was of opinion that the only Count which could be supported was the ninth, and upon that he would, if it became necessary, reserve a case for the Court of Appeal, THE JURY, however, upon the facts, found a verdict of.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, June 8th, 1871.
Before Mr. Justice Blackburn.
476. WILLIAM VEALE (42), (indicted with FREDERICK STUHMAR and HENRY ELLIS , who pleaded guilty last Session (See page 36), PLEADED GUILTY to a conspiracy to obtain, by means of a false declaration, a certificate of naturalization from Her Majesty's Secretary of State.
Stuhmar and Ellis received good characters.
STUHMAR—Twelve Months' Imprisonment. ELLIS—Two Months' Imprisonment; both without hard labour. VEALE to enter into his own recognizances to appear when called upon.
was born there, and have served various parochial offices—on 4th May I received this letter by post, in this envelope—(This was dated 4th May, 1871, signed W. H. Etherington, 25, Nicholas Street, New North Road, and stated: "I feel it my duty to inform you that I have, with others, witnessed such conduct between your eldest son, that is, Master Clowser, and the servant-girl, as may lead eventually to such a termination as the tragedy now in the public press. Last Sunday week, in the room above your sitting-room, for one hour, might be been your son and the girl, kissing, hugging, &c., and placing themselves in very strange postures, as they supposed unseen behind the blind, but close to the window, &c. As I belong to a certain society, and write for the press, I shall feel it my duty to make this public, &c. In the meantime, if you think well to satisfy me for my trouble, and look into the affair, so as it does not occur again, I think it will answer your purpose, and I shall take no further notice. Otherwise there will be an article on Hampstead Morals, &c. A letter as above will find me.")—I afterwards received this other letter—(This was dated Winchester, 13th May, signed W. H. Etherington, and addressed to Mr. Clowser; it stated: "I should have answered yours before, but have been travelling, and yours did not reach me till to-day. I cannot meet you at present; however, if you compensate me for my trouble, you nor anyone will ever hear any more of the matter. I have a romantic affair now in hand, in reference to a transaction in Hampstead, that will appear in public print; but if you satisfy me, it's silence for ever. If you send me a cheque or post-office order for 5l., all well; but it must be per return, as I leave here on Wednesday.")—On receiving that letter, I put myself in communication with the police, and, on 16th May, sent the registered letter to the post-office, Winchester, containing this post-office order (produced)—I also received this letter, dated 15th May—(This was signed W. H. Etherington, and stated that the pamphlet he was about publishing related to the observance of the sabbath, and the abuses that existed at places like Hampstead, and the actions of inhabitants folding positions in church and the town; but that he would re-write it, and omit all that related to Mr. dowser's family, on receipt of an order for 5l., to be sent to the post-office, Winchester, before Wednesday evening.)—I caused the prisoner to be apprehended, and he admitted writing the letter before the Magistrate at Hampstead—I had never seen him before, to my knowledge.
Prisoner. Q. Is there a bed-room, or an empty room, above your sitting-room, second storey? A. A bed-room; my son sleeps there—the servant has to go there for her duties, and to take water up. (Being cautioned by THE COURT, the prisoner did not further cross-examine the witness).
WILLIAM HENRY CAMPBELL (Detective Sergeant). I received a warrant against the prisoner, and went to Winchester, on 15th May—on 16th May, I went to the post office—I was behind the counter, and saw the prisoner come there, and receive the registered letter, containing this post-office order—he signed the receipt for it "W. H. Etherington"—I have not got the receipt, the post-office authorities would not part with it—I followed him into the street, saw him open the letter, and take out this post-office order for 1l.—he was going towards his lodging—I tapped him on the shoulder, and said "Good morning, Mr. Etherington"—he said "That is my name"—I said "You seem to be full of business this morning"—he said "Yes"—I said "What papers have you got in your hand?"—he said "I have just received a letter from London, containing a post-office order"
—I said "From Mr. Dowser, I suppose?"—he said "Yes"—I said "I am a police-officer, and hold a warrant fur your apprehension; you are charged with endeavouring to obtain 5l. from Mr. Dowser, by means of a threat—he said that what he had stated was quite correct, and he had witnesses to prove it; but he would not have done so if he had not been hard up—I searched him, and found on him this letter, addressed to Mr. Clowser, fastened up; he was going to post it—(This was dated Post Office, Winchester, May 17th, 1871, stating that at Mr. Clowser had not taken any notice of his application, unlest he tent per return, the pamphlet would be published)—I enquired at 38, Nicholas Street, Hoxton, and found that letters were left there for the prisoner; a letter from Mr. Dowser, dated 16th May, was found upon him—(This stated that a post-office order for 1l. was enclosed, and that Mr. Clowser was unable to tend more, owing to a fire which had destroyed hit premises, but that he would tend the balance by another post.)
The prisoner, in Jus defence, stated that the fact were true, and acknowledged that the letters were written by him, but not from malice, and that he did not know that he was acting wrongly by writing at he did.
In reply to questions by the Court, the Jury found, firstly, that the prisoner sent the letter; secondly, that they demanded money with menaces; thirdly, that it was without reasonable or probable cause; fourthly, that the publication of the pamphlet would have been disagreeable to Mr. Clowser, at well as to his son.
Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLLINS the Defence.
EMMA ANSTEY . I live at 35, Blomfield Road, Shepherd's Bush; the prisoner lived at 17 in the same street, with her husband, Alexander Carson, and four children, with the deceased—they were her step children, I believe—the little girl Adelaide was between four and five years old—I was charwoman there—I first worked for them a little before Christmas, and at the latter part of the time I went there every day—I have seen the prisoner beat Adelaide with a cane, anywhere she could hit her, on her hands, legs, and face—I have seen her give her as much as two dozen strokes—the child used to cry—she was sometimes dressed, and sometimes undressed—I have frequently seen her so treated—I left the place seven or eight weeks before the child died—I have seen the child put in a cold bath, and then stand naked the remainder of the day, and be put in a cupboard to sleep—I have heard the prisoner say that she had such a dislike to the child that she could put it on the table and dissect it; also that she once pot its head down the water-closet, and if it had not been for the eldest boy Willy pulling it away, it would have been killed—that was about a month after I went—she also said that she had made the poker red hot, and was going to make use of it on the child, but she put it down without doing so—that was at the same time—a little before I left, she said that she had insured their lives, and all she wanted was a new dress and a slow walk—I thought she meant a funeral by that—the deceased generally had two slices of bread and chicken, and some soup, that was her daily ration—the cupboard the child was put into was under the stairs—I do not think she said anything to the child before putting her into the cupboard—I have mentioned to other people during the time I was there what I have seen.
Cross-examined. I worked there a little before Christmas—the prisoner
was suffering from a miscarriage, after she came back from Staffordshire; that was, I should think, a month after Christmas—she used sometimes to lie in bed, and sometimes she got up; that was from the beginning of January, as near as I can judge—the sofa was her bed—she sometimes walked about, but in the evening she used to lie on the sofa bed—Mr. Carson went out at 9 o'clock in the morning, and came home at 6 o'clock in the evening—there was no servant in the house but me—there was another girl, nine years old, and two little boys—they had to attend to themselves when the prisoner was ill—I did nothing for them when I first went—I sat with the prisoner—I was there from 9 o'clock till her husband came home, and I used to go again after their dinner, and stay an hour or so—the deceased was a child of dirty habits as to her bed, and different parts of the room, and I refused to clean up after her—I refused to touch any of them, they were so dirty—the cold bath was in the washhouse mostly, and sometimes in the kitchen—the child was kept in it a half-hour—when she was taken out of it, she sometimes was naked for the rest of the day, without any clothes at all—she was left in the kitchen—I have children—I did not put clothes on her, because the prisoner wetted the clothes with the water, and there was nothing to put on the child—I was obliged to let her stay naked all day—I dared not interfere—this happened three or four times—I was not in the kitchen—I used to be with Mrs. Carson, mostly leaving the child in the kitchen—I went down to see how she was getting on, and I saw her naked there—she beat the child with a halfpenny cane; I should think she gave her quite two dozen—I did not take the cane away, because I was frightened of such a woman—I have not quarrelled with her—I never had an angry word with her—we have not quarrelled about a sovereign; the agreement was that I was to be paid 6s., a week, but she sometimes gave me a shilling, and sometimes sixpence, just as she had it—I I went on attending to the house, and was there the whole of January, and part of February daily—I lived a few doors from them—the other girl was beaten too, and thrown into cold baths, but not with her clothes on—she was not left naked in the kitchen—the prisoner did not say that the child fell down the water-closet pan, and that the eldest boy and Mr. Carson picked it up; she told me she put it there—I still went on attending to the family.
Q. You say that she said that all she wanted was a new dress and a slow walk; did not you say that with regard to your own children, you having insured their lives? A. No, I have insured their lives, and I got Mrs. Carson to insure these children's lived—I pay 4d. a week—I keep up the insurance on my four children's lives—I swear I did not say "If there is nothing else to be done now, I can get a new dress and a glow walk for the children"—I was not there when the children were fed at breakfast—it is an eight-roomed house, the kitchen and parlour are on the ground floor, the drawing-room and bed-rooms are up stairs—I used to clean the place, and attend to Mrs. Carson—she wanted a good deal of attention—she wanted me to stay with her a good deal—there were two big boys at home—I do not know their ages—I never fed the children at all, but I carried the food down for them after Mrs. Carson had cut it, and put it on the table; I then went back again—I left seven or eight weeks before the inquest—I have not had a dispute with Mrs. Carson about a sovereign; her little boy came to my house with 12s.,—I say that she owed me 11s., 8d.; she did not say what she owed me, but afterwards, when she came to my house, she said she owed me 2s., 9d.,
and a half day's washing; she had borrowed 5s., of me—she did not refuse to pay me any more—she gave me a sovereign, and I was to take my money from that—she claims 12s., from me, and I say that I only owe her 4s.,—she lent me the sovereign after I left, and I have paid her back, all but 4s., 6d.—I did not ask her to lend me 2l., as my husband was about to go to work at Greenwich; he never was at work at Greenwich; he works at Shepherd's Bush—I did not ask to borrow 2l.; she said the would lend my husband two sovereigns, but she did not offer me the money; she gave me 1l.—that was after I left, it was a little before Easter—I said that my husband had work to do, and was very short of material, but never asked her for anything—she offered to lend me the 2l., and on the same Sunday the borrowed 5s., of me; that is the money in dispute, but I never had any words with her—I was friendly with her, but not on intimate terms—the child used to sleep in the cupboard every night, not when I first went, but afterwards; it was put there when it did anything wrong, and was allowed to remain there as long as it liked—when it did like, it came out, if the mother chose to let it—I have known it remain there all day, when it has been beaten—I was there, but did not dare to let it out.
CHARLOTTE MILLS . I live at the White Hart, Shepherd's Bush, about two minutes' walk from the prisoner—I became acquainted with her, and she used frequently to call in for a glass of ale, as she passed, but I never went to her house—she spoke of all the children frequently, but Adelaide, she said, was such a dirty little beast, she had beaten it, and abut it up—the first time she spoke of it was before Christmas—she said that it was so filthy, she had beaten it, and she had used fair means, and she had used foul—after Christmas she complained of a pain in her chest, and asked if I could recommend her a doctor—I recommended Dr. Ayling, and in a few days she came in again—I asked her how she was—she said she was better, Mr. Ayling had done her a great deal of good, and that she had mentioned the habits of the child to him, and he had recommended cold baths for it, and to make it carry weights, as he thought the dirty habits arose from laziness—I had occasion to go to her house in the beginning of March, and then she spoke of this child, and said how dirty it was, and that she had held its head down the closet, and if Mr. Carson had not taken it out, it would have been suffocated—she did not say how she came to do it, but she disliked it because it was so dirty, I suppose.
Cross-examined. We keep a public-house close by—she also told me she had not beaten the child lately, she had left it to Mr. Carson, because she could not succeed—that may have been before Christmas—it was on the same day that I went, that she said she had given up trying to cure the child, and had left it to Mr. Carson, its father—that would be March—I am quite positive she did not say that the child had fallen into the closet—I remained with her about an hour—I have never had any dispute with her, though she owes me something—my husband was not very angry with her, about 4s., 11d. being wrong in a bill; he had nothing to say to her—he did not say to Dr. Odgers, that I know of, that he would make it too hot for Carson at Shepherd's Bush.
ELEANOR SEWRLL . I live at 2, Heath Place, Shepherd's Bush—last winter I worked about two months for Mrs. Carson—it was in November, and in the cold of the winter—I did not see the child Adelaide, but Mrs. Carson told me she was up stairs, and that she kept her there for punishent, because she was so dirty, and had stolen a saucepan of soup—the first
time I worked there, I found that she never sent up any food—she said that they would thieve, and I said that if she did not give them enough to eat, of course they would thieve—I saw no food sent up, but I saw cold water sent up one, when I was washing in the kitchen.
Cross-examined. I mean to swear that there never was food went up to the children—I once saw her give the other child some bread and cheese to carry up, when she was in such a hurry to go to the County Court that she could not wait—I did not see the bread and cheese carried up—I never saw the deceased—the water that was sent up was a punishment for stealing the soup—the prisoner paid me 1s., 6d., when I worked from 9 o'clock to 5 o'clock, but if I did not work all those hours, she gave me 1s.,—I went away when I had done my work, and when I went again, Mrs. Carson had moved, and I did not know where to—that was in November, and I told a policeman about it.
LOUISA JANE FOALE . I live at 19, Blomfield Road, Shepherd's Bush, next door to the prisoner—I know her by sight—we were not on visiting terms—in January, or the beginning of February, I first heard screams and cries in her house, as if a child was being severely punished—I heard of the child's death on 16th May—I had heard screaming on 12th May, about 10 o'clock in the morning—I saw the child more than once, but only once to take particular notice of it—it was then in the garden, half-naked, and the weather was very cold.
Cross-examined. The child had a frock on, but the lower hook and eye of it was undone—I called to her sister, and told her, and she took her in—I did not see the boys about then.
JONAS HALL (Police Inspector.) I took the prisoner, and her husband, on 26th May, and told them the charge was causing the death of the child through ill-treatment and neglect—she said nothing—she is the step-mother.
ROBERT JACKSON, M.D . I live at 53, Nothing Hill Square—on 16th May, about 10 o'clock at night, I received information, and went to 17, Blomfield Road, where I saw the dead body of a female child—the prisoner and her husband were in the room—the child was in a coffin—I took it out, and examined it externally—it was between four and five years old, and very much emaciated, and there were marks of bruises on the forehead and face:—I went to the police-station, and reported what I had seen—I returned on the 18th with a Coroner's warrant, and had the body stripped—I could then see every rib standing out, the skin being tightly stretched across it—the abdomen was shrunk and shrivelled, and there was little development of muscular tissue; the eyes were sunk in the head, and open, and the pupils dilated—I was accompanied by my son, who is a medical student, and by my assistant—there were three distinct bruises on the forehead, of comparatively recent date, close to the hair, and downwards; one in the centre, and one on either side; also a bruise on the temple, and another on the cheek bone; these presented the appearance of from three to four days standing, those on the temple and cheek were of about a week's standing; there were also three bruises on the right, and one on the left arm; one on the right hip, and one on the left knee—those on the legs and arms were of minor consideration; the three on the forehead were severe bruises, with much blood extravasated between the tissues—the stroke of a cane would produce the bruises on the arms, but not those on the head—I afterward opened the body, and found the intestines much contracted, and perfectly
empty, with the exception of a little mucous—there was not a particle of fat in any part of the body; the vital parts were perfectly healthy, with the exception of a slight adhesion of the right pleura—I saw nothing up to the neck to account for death—I then dissected the head—I looked most carefully where I had seen the bruises on the forehead, and saw immediately below them a large quantity of extravasated blood penetrating to the bone, and extending to the periosteum—the skull was not fractured—the membranes of the brain were much congested, that is, full of blood—the brain itself was healthy—I account for death from congestion of the membranes of the brain, caused by the blows on the forehead, and accelerated by the poor, ill-nourished condition of the child.
Cross-examined. The congestion of the brain must have taken place three or four days before death—I do not think the child could have taken solid food after its brain became congested—congestion is a gradual process, it would not take place at once—it might have begun on the Friday—the origin of it might have been a blow given on the Friday—a dote of calomel administered on the Friday would not account for the state of the stomach—the bowels were much contracted, and it would not have produced that; but a dose of medicine might have emptied the bowels—a dose of calomel administered would account for the emptiness of the stomach if no more food was given, but it would not account for the contracted state of the bowels—the injuries on the forehead would not be accounted for by a fall forward, if the child was standing on its feet, but they might be from falling from a chair, or a bed, or from any height; that would account for the three bruises on the forehead—those three were of a more recent data than the others—those on the arms were twelve or fourteen days old—a fortnight would include all the bruises—the largest bruise on the forehead was a very severe one, that with the other two caused the congestion and the death—the bone of the skull was not injured—the child was naturally of a low type as regards physique.
Re-examined. Blows would produce those bruises.
ALEXANDER OGILVIE . I was formerly a naval surgeon, but have retired, and am in private practice—on 12th May, about 3 in the afternoon, I was sent for to 17, Blomfield Road, Shepherd's Bush—I there saw the child, Adelaide Carson, in a back-parlour, on a chair bed—that was the first time I had seen her—I did not see the prisoner—the child was in a state of semi coma, half insensible—there was a severe contusion of the as frontis—I asked a respectable man I saw there, not the father, whether the child had been put into a warm bath—there were two persons there—I gave the child a small dose of calomel my soli; from my pocket—I saw it several times after—I gave an unfavourable opinion from the first, and told the people I thought it was a fatal case—the last time I saw it was on the evening of the 15th, it was then in a dying state—it had never rallied—that was the same child that was afterwards examined by Dr. Jackson—I was present at his examination, and entirely to confirm him as to the cause of the death—a fall or A blow would produce the bruises on the forehead.
Cross-examined. I was told that the child had fallen when I was called in, and to the best of my ability it presented the appearance of a full having taken place—the bruise on the forehead was certainly the cause of death—I considered the body bruises unimportant—I attended the prisoner in January this year, for a complaint incidental to her sex, and ordered her total rest.
COURT. Q. Were there three bruises? A. Yes—they appeared to run into one—there was another on the cheek—I did not attach any importance to the smaller bruises—I ordered brandy and water and beef tea for the child, and its head to be sponged with cold water—they were taking proper care of it—the prisoner was not there the first time I went, but the second time she was—Mr. Carson and the children were the only persons I saw on the Friday when I was called in, but I do not know who was in the house—I saw Mr. Elles—I was at the post mortem examination.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, June 8th, 1871.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PEARS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
FRANCIS RAVINSCROFT . 'I live at 34, Portpool Lane, Gray's Inn Road, and am carman to John Camp, a bookbinder, of John Street, Clerkenwell—on 24th April, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, I was with a horse and cart, belonging to Mr. Camp—I went into Spottiswoode's, and left, the horse and cart outside—I was there about three minutes—when I came out it was gone—I ran down to the bottom of Stonecutter Street, to see whether I could see it, or whether it had strayed away—I then went to the Smithfield police-station, and gave information—I saw the horse and cart again about 4.45, in John Street, Clerkenwell, where I am employed; where my master lives—the prisoner and another young man were in the cart—the prisoner was driving—I stopped them as soon as I saw they passed the mews, where I was telling the circumstance to a friend of mine—I ran after them; they asked me what I wanted—I said "I will tell you, if you will stay a moment"—they asked me what I had to do with it—I tried to find a policeman—I could not, and they walked away—they were not in a hurry to get out of the cart—the man who was with me said "You go for an officer, and I'll mind the cart"—when he said that, the men got out and walked away—I followed them all down Exmouth Street, into Wood Street, and then they ran, and I ran after them—I saw the prisoner stopped by the officer—the horse and cart were worth 25l.
Cross-examined. The cart had my master's name and address on it—there was about 6lbs. of paper in the cart—I went to Spottiswoode's for some work.
WILLIAM SMITH . I am a fish-jobber, and live at Little John Street, Clerkenwell—on 24th April I was in Mr. Camp's stable-yard, with Ravenscroft—I saw Mr. Camp's pony and cart come down the street—the prisoner and another man were in it—the prisoner was driving—we ran after them—the prisoner said the cart belonged to the other man—we told them to get out, they did not get out directly—they stopped in the cart I daresay four minutes—they then got out, and walked up Exmouth Street, and then they ran—I saw the prisoner stopped.
Cross-examined. The last witness asked what they were doing in the cart—the other man said he was going to Barking, and the prisoner said that the cart belonged to the other man.
after them—Smith said "Stop thief!"—I caught the prisoner, and took him to the station.
Cross-examined. He gave his correct name and address.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, June 8th, 1871.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. ST. AUBYN the Defence.
JOHN KING . I live at 40, Colonade, Russell Square, and am a coachman—on Sunday morning, 7th May, a little, after 2 o'clock, when I left the yard, I met the prisoner at the corner of Kendall Street—he and his companions followed me to the comer of the Colonade—they surrounded me—he wanted to fight me—one or two of them punched me in the face—I ran away to my own street door—he ran after me, and challenged me again to fight—I consented—he held up his hand, saying "I have something here for you"—I could not see what it was—he rushed at me, and stabbed me in the arm—I fell on my back—my brother came out, and I went to the hospital—I was bleeding very fast—I lost two or three quarts of blood at the time.
Cross-examined. I had never had a quarrel or an angry word with this man before—he looked sober as he is now.
ALFRED KING . I am the prosecutor's brother—I live also at 40, Colonade—about 12.30, on the Saturday night, I heard a disturbance outside, and went out—I saw my brother and the prisoner—I said "What's the matter?"—my brother said "They are challenging me to fight"—the prisoner was holding up his hand, in the middle of his companions, saying "I have got something for you!"—at that moment they both fell, and I saw him strike my brother one blow—I was about a yard off—I got the prisoner off—I said "I shall charge you with stabbing my brother or in the arm"—he laughed and said "Has he had enough?"—I said "He has."
Cross-examined. I could not tell how many people were there; there were several; seven or eight like, all of a cluster, and several others looking on—we were all living in the same neighbourhood.
WILLIAM KING . I am a brother of the last witnesses—I live at 40, Colonade—on this night, about 12.15, I heard someone about the street door—I went out and saw my brother John standing in the mews, and the prisoner, with about half-a-dozen companions—he was challenging my brother to fight, throwing up his arms, and trying to get away from his companions—he had both arms up—they were, I believe, holding him back—I heard him say "I have something for you!"—on a sudden he rushed from his companions, sprung upon John, and struck and fell right on him—when John got up he was bleeding.
GEORGE STONE (Policeman E 44). Upon this Sunday morning I went to 19, Colonade, where the prisoner lodged—I apprehended him about 1.30—I thought he had been drinking, but he knew perfectly well what he was about—I told him the charge—he said he had not stabbed King, and said it was a bit of a stab, and only an old grudge—there was a small quantity of blood on his pocket handkerchief—there was blood on his hip,
and his face and hands—I produce the knife since found—I did not find it.
JAMES THOMAS PAUL . I am a surgeon, living at 26, Burton Crescent—I have known prosecutor some years—I saw him on the afternoon of 7th May—his arm was bandaged up—next morning I removed the bandage, and found a clean-cut wound of the fore-arm, 4 in. in length—it must have been done with a sharp instrument—the wound formed a kind of flap, as if a person were holding up his arm, defending his body from a stab—the knife produced would be likely to have caused the wound—I did not probe it—he was weak from loss of blood—there was no contusion about the wound, as if it had been caused any other way.
Cross-examined. I did not find it; my little boy did—he is not here.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
GROSVENOR ROBERTSON . I am a printer, of 30, King Street, Long Acre—on 27th February I was coming out of Queen Street, Holborn, at 1.15 a.m.—there was a fire in the street—Wilson passed by, and grazed my shoulder, and another one, as well—when turning into Lincoln's Inn Fields, I was suddenly fallen upon by both of them—they blacked my eyes; Wilson knocked me down—Boggis rifled my pockets while down, and stole my spectacle case, and out of my breeches pocket, 6s., or 7s.,—they knocked me about, and when I got up they were gone—I called out—there was no one near—I asked a policeman to lend me his lantern, and found my hat smashed—I had a good view of them, because they were on the top of me—I complained to the police.
Boggis. Q. How do you recognize us? A. By your features—I went to the police-station, and picked you and Wilson out directly—I saw Wilson six weeks ago—I did not do anything then, because I wanted them both, and I heard of their being charged—I asked them to put their caps on, and recognized them immediately, both with their caps on and off—I saw them in the Court before the Magistrate.
Wilson's Defence. I never saw the man before in my life. I have got a good character from Messrs. Cassell's, the publishers, and I never knowed Boggis at the time.
GUILTY — Twelve Months, Imprisonment each.
CHARLES DAVIES . I am a seaman, of 10, Upper East Smithfield—on the night of 23rd May, I was in the Old Red Cross public-house, Smithfield—I heard a noise outside—I went out, and saw a soldier with three women and two men around him—the prisoners are the women—the soldier was drunk—they left him and went away, and then Inwood
came back and took him by the arm, and said it was all right—after they got up the street twenty yards I saw the soldier fall—while on the ground I saw them tear his jacket open—I cannot say which of them it was—they went away, and I went up, and picked him up—I gave them in charge—Frederick ran away—I followed her, and gave her in custody—I never lost sight of them—I heard Inwood say she could get the other two women clear.
Cross-examined. I did not see any other women about—the soldier appeared to be too drunk to be larking with them.
ALFRED BURBIDGE . I live at 62, Cartwright Square, East Smithfield—on the night of 23rd May, about 10 o'clock, I was going down East Smithfield, home, near the Red Cross public-house—I saw the soldier with the prisoners behind him—Inwood stepped into the road, and the other two knocked him down—I saw Inwood and Frederick open his jacket and take something out—they began to run away—I heard the soldier say "Go along, you thieves, you have robbed me"—Inwood said "Go along"—Inwood said to Frederick "Give me some of the money"—she would not, and they ran away—a policeman brought them back, and Inwood followed behind, and said something about being with the soldier all the evening, and tried to get him (the soldier) off—two men, who were looking on, made off.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Inwood came back, and tried to get the soldier away after the other two women ran away—I heard her say to the soldier "Halloa, Charley, what are you doing there, get up"—he said he could not get up, and she tried to get him up.
THOMAS WALL (Policeman 167). Upon this night, at 10.15, I was on duty in East Smithfield—I took Malony—the prosecutor said she had robbed him—Inwood was following in the rear, and I took her also—they said nothing when taken.
WILLIAM SMITH (Policeman H 225). On this night I was on duty in Prescott Street, a little after 10 o'clock, I took Frederick—I told her she was charged with being connected with a robbery—she said she knew nothing about it.
JOSEPH GODFREY (Policeman H 223). I was on duty in East Smithfield—I saw the soldier—Inwood was following in the rear of the other two prisoners, using bad language—she said she was going to get them off—I took her in custody—she said she had got or money, and did not mind going.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. She said that she had been with a sailor, and had got no more money than what he had given her—she did not appear to have been drinking.
Cross-examined by MR. BROWN. I didn't see any men with the women.
ELIZABETH CROSIER . I am a warder—I searched the prisoners and found 1l., a half-sovereign, and six shillings on Inwood; nothing on Maloney, and 2s., 11d. on Frederick—Frederick said she would never round on me if I kept the money.
WILLIAM SHEARD . I am a discharged soldier—I live at Huddersfield—about 10.15 on this night I was in East Smithfield—I was drunk—the prisoners came up to me—they got round me, and one of them undid my jacket—I don't know which took my purse out of my breast—my purse was safe just before—there was about 3l., four or five shillings in it—there were two sovereigns, a half-sovereign, and the rest in silver—they were in the last place where I had a glass to drink—I had no familiarities with them—I never said two men had robbed me.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Where had you List had your purse safe? A. In the public-house—I had been drinking, but I had my memory before they got hold of me—I did not drink with them at the public-house.
Cross-examined by MR. BROWN. I had not seen these women before that night—I was locked up, too—I was incapable of taking care of myself—while riding in the van that woman asked me if I thought the two men had taken the money—I never said anything to her—I did not say "All right, my girl, it is the men"—I was not very drunk—I knew what I was doing before they got hold of me.
Malony's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was stopping with a sailor and he gave me 2l. yesterday; I am innocent."
MALONY & INWOOD— GUILTY ;
FREDERICK— GUILTY *— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
Before Mr. Justice Blackburn.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY of the attempt — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. THOMAS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS PICKETT . I am a labourer, of 63, Villa Road, Plumstead—on Tuesday, 2nd May, I was in the Prince of Wales public-house, in Woolwich—I met the prisoner there, and accompanied her to her house a little before 6 o'clock in the evening—I had not been there long when she struck me in the face, and took my watch from me—I caught her hand—she bit my hand, and got away with the watch—I gave information to the police—I got my watch back on 15th May—it came in a parcel by Parcels Delivery—it was worth 2l.
Prisoner. He struck me; I never had the watch. Witness. I did not strike you—we had no quarrel.
DAVID COLLIS (Policeman R R 3). Pickett came to me on 2nd May, in High Street, Woolwich, about 6.15 in the evening—his face was bleeding—he told me he had been robbed—I took the prisoner about 6.30, and told her the charge—the prosecutor was with me—she said she had not been with any man that evening—I don't know how the watch got back—the prosecutor was rather the worse for liquor.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not have the watch.
GUILTY .—She also PLEADED GUILTY to have been before convicted in October, 1870.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment,
MR. SHIELL conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK HERBERT JOHNSON . I live with my father at Grosvenor Road, Herbert Road, Plumstead—he is a builder—on Tuesday morning, 16th May, I canie down between 6 o'clock and 6.30—I went into the kitchen, and found the window open, so that anyone could get in—it opened in the area—in the area I found this jacket, a cap, a pair of boots, and a pair of gloves (produced)—they were given up to a policeman—four coats and a cloak were missed from the hall—they belonged to my father and myself—I have seen them since—this one, which the prisoner was wearing, is mine.
HANNAH JOHNSTON . I am servant to Mr. Johnson—on Monday night I was in the kitchen between 11 and 12 o'clock—the kitchen window was shut, but not fastened—on the following morning I came down about 6 o'clock—I missed a table-cloth, and eight table spoons.
THOMAS BUTT (Police Injector R.) I went to the prosecutor's house, about 8 o'clock on the Tuesday morning—entrance had been effected by the sash of the back kitchen window having been drawn down, and then getting through the bars—I received this bundle of military clothing from a constable, who went to the house before I did—I went to the Camp, at Woolwich, and went to the guard-room there—the prisoner ran in with this coat on—he had no boots on—I asked him where his boots were—he said he had lent them to a civilian—I took him in custody, and charged him with breaking into Mr. Johnson's house—he said nothing.
ROBERT YOUNGMAN . I am a Quartermaster—Sergeant in the Royal Artillery, at Woolwich—the prisoner was a driver in the battery—this cap belonged to him, and the jacket has his regimental number on, and was supplied on 3rd May, 1871—these boots are not his, they belong to another driver—the gloves are the property of a driver, and they were stolen—the prisoner was absent from the roll-call on Monday evening at 10 o'clock, and on the Tuesday morning he came into the guard-room with this coat on, and no boots.
Prisoner's Defence. I got drunk, and did not know what I was about I laid down, and when I woke in the morning, I found my cap, jacket, and gloves gone. I saw this jacket close by me, and I put it on, and went to see whether anyone had found any soldier's things, and then I went to the barracks.
GUILTY .—He also PLEADED GUILTY* to having been before convicted in January, 1870.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLOTTE ISABELLA FORD . My husband keeps the Duke's Head, Kennington Lane—on 27th April, between 6 and 7 o'clock, I served the prisoner with a glass of ale—he gave me a florin—I found it was bad, and told him so—he took it away, and said that he had no more money with him, and left a breast pin on the counter, saying that he would pay me next day—I had not bent it, and I did not charge him, as I could not I have my business—he came next day and paid 2d. for the ale, and got his breast pin.
CHARLES PEGGS (Policeman L 54). I took the prisoner on 27th April, having received information—he said nothing about being deaf till he was before the Magistrate—I told him the charge was uttering a bad florin at the Duke's Head, and the sergeant asked him where it was—he said "I threw it away"—he gave his name, "Thomas Williams, lodging-house, Mint Street, Borough"—I went to Mrs. Ford, but she said she could not leave her business.
JOSEPH HOLLAND . I keep a coffee-house, in Broadway, Camberwell—on 8th April, I served the prisoner with two cups of tea and a tea cake—he gave me a half-crown, which I gave to my wife and gave him change—about half an hour afterwards I was looking over the money and found it was bad—my wife tied it up in her handkerchief, and I afterwards gave it to the policeman—on 29th April, the prisoner came again for a meat pudding, which came to 5d.—I did not notice that he was the same man till I served him, but my wife did—he gave me a florin, I found it was bad, and sent for a policeman—the prisoner went on his knees and begged me not to do so—I gave him in custody with the florin.
Prisoner. Q. When I gave you the florin, did you show it to the customers in the room? A. Yes, but I did not let it go out of your hand, because you followed me, and I thought you would snatch it—I did not give it to my wife to look at.
MARTHA HOLLAND . I am the wife of the last witness—I saw the prisoner served with tea and cake on 8th April—he wanted change for a half-sovereign—I said that we would send to a public-house for it—he said "I have smaller change, give me the half-sovereign"—I did so, and he gave my husband a half-crown, which he gave to me—the prisoner said "Your tea and articles are very good, give me a few of your cards?"—my husband said "No, don't do that, for his money is not good"—I put the money in my pocket, tied in the corner of my handkerchief, till the prisoner came again, three weeks afterwards, on the 29th—I remembered his appearance at once, and told my husband.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I offer you a sixpence? A. No, but your friend did when you gave the half-crown—I did not tell you that 6d. was not sufficient, as your tea came to 7d., it only came to 5d.—you wished to pay for yourself and friend, and your friend would not let you—when you came on the 29th I said "I have a bad half-crown which you gave me before"—you then said that your friend paid on the 8th, but he did not, it was you.
Prisoner's Defence. The first time I went to the house the young man with me paid, as he owed me for some beer. I never uttered the half-crown, or saw it, or had it in my hand, it was the man who was with me. I did not know whether the florin was good or bad, I had it in my pocket
with some lucifers, and it looked very blue. The pin which I left as security for the 2d., cost me 1s., 6d.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution; and MR. ROWLAND defended Dixon.
HENRY THOMAS SQUIRES . I am barman at the Rising Sun, Old Kent Road, Mr. Scanard is the landlord—on 10th May the prisoners came in, and Dixon called for a pint of 6d. ale, which came to 3d.—he gave me a shilling, I broke it, and told him it was bad—he paid me in coppers, and I gave him back the broken pieces—they both drank of the beer and left together; and I informed the other barman.
GEORGE COCKER . I am barman at the Turk's Head, Old Kent Road—about two minutes' walk from the Rising Sun—on the evening of 10th May, about 6.30 or 6.40 the prisoners came in with a female—Onley asked for a pot of 6d. ale and gave me a shilling—I gave him the change, bent the shilling 'on the counter, and was looking at it when a barman came in from the Rising Sun—I found the shilling was bad, but said nothing—they left the house and I followed them to the Alexandra beer-shop, a short distance off; they all went in—I spoke to a constable, went to the Alexandra with him, and the prisoners were taken—they all three drank of the beer.
GEORGE SEARLE . I keep the Alexandra beer-shop—on 10th May the prisoners came in with a female, and Onley called for a pint of 6d. ale—he gave me a shilling, and I gave him 9d. change and put the shilling in the till—a man from the Rising Sun 'came in and spoke to me while the prisoners were still there—I looked at the shilling and it was bad—there were some three-penny pieces in the till, but no other shilling—I had not taken any money since that—I went outside and waited while the policeman and Cocker took the prisoner—I marked the shilling and gave it to Webb.
ROBERT WEBB (Police Sergeant P 6). I was called and went to the Alexandra; as soon as I went to the bar I saw Dixon put his hand down by his side—I was in uniform—I said "Give it to me, don't drop it," and took a bad shilling, wrapped in paper, from his hand—I then put my hand in his coat pocket, and found these two leather pouches and a bad shilling in one of them—I told him I should take him in custody for passing bad money—he said that he had not passed any, and did not know the other two—he refused his address at the station.
Cross-examined. When I went in, the prisoners were standing one on each side of the bar—there were only those three, besides the barman.
THOMAS GROOM (Policeman R R 8). I was called to the Alexandra, and saw the prisoners there—I took Onley, searched him, and found a florin, thirteen sixpences, two groats, a three-penny piece, and 2s., 4d. in copper.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This shilling taken from Dixon's hand is bad—the one in the pouch is also bad, and from the same mould—this one from Cocker is bad, and from the same mould as the other two—the fourth is bad, but from a different mould.
GUILTY .— Nine Months Imprisonment.
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution; and MESSERS. BEASLEY and; STRAIGHT the Defence.
JOHN WORTHAM . I am an officer of the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the original proceedings, filed by the defendant under the liquidation petition—ho is described as Augustus Whitlock, 4, Lower Marsh, in the county of Surrey, cheesemonger—the date of the petition for liquidation is 6th February, 1871, and it was filed on the 8th—it was his own petition—there is a list of creditors filed with it—the first meeting was on 23rd February—nothing was done then.
BERTRAND ROBERT JOHNSON . I am a clerk in the Record department of the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the original proceedings of Augustus Whitlock, under the seal of the Court—these are different proceedings—it was taken out of liquidation, and he was proceeded against afterwards—on 28th February the petition for adjudication was presented by Messrs. Wilson & Bliss, of High Street, Southwark—on 25th March, Whitlock was adjudicated bankrupt—on 15th April, Mr. Wilson was chosen trustee—on 20th April, an order was made for Mr. Wilson, as trustee, to prosecute—the bankrupt filed his accounts on 13th April—the debts unsecured are 999l. 1s., 8d., the assets are 109l. 13s., 10d., composed of stock in trade, 79l. 0s., 9d., and back debts 30l. 13s., Id.—Messrs.& Wilson Bliss appear as creditors for 263l. 10s., 5d., and Messrs. Davenes Brothers, of 33, King Street, are creditors for 76l.
Cross-examined. That is the same account that was filed in the liquidation—the name of Hazell does not appear as a creditor—it is Davenes Bros. down here—they are one and the same—there is an order dated 6th May "The bankrupt is to file a short goods account for two months"—that would be filed, I suppose, on 1st June—they commenced to prosecute before the time he was expected to file it—he was also to file an account of the transactions between himself and his brother, and the trustee was to be at liberty to administer requisitions to the bankrupt, if he should think fit, and that the further hearing of the case in bankruptcy is postponed until 10th June—he was examined on 30th May, and the inquiries were filed on 5th June—the inquiries were actually put after he had been committed for trial for this misdemeanour.
(The questions and answers were put in and read.)
EDWARD ROBINSON . I live at 7, Gower's Road, Dalston—I have been a traveller in the provision trade a great number of years—I have known the defendant four or five years—I knew him when he was a journeyman at Knightsbridge—he first started in business for himself, I should say about two years ago—I became a traveller to Messrs. Holden & Parker, in February last year, and I called on the defendant, and got orders from him to the amount of 150l., or 190l. a month—sometimes he paid me, and sometimes he transmitted the money—I left Mr. Holden's at the end of November, or the beginning of December last year, and went in the employment of Messrs. Wilson & Bliss—Messrs. Holden & Parker, dissolved partnership at the end of the year, and I left then—after I joined Messrs. Wilson & Bliss I called on the defendant, and asked him for orders—the terms were one month's credit, the usual terms—the first order was on 9th December, and that amounted to 30l. 10s., 9d.—on 16th December there was an order for 52l. 17s., 4d.; on 23rd December, 16l. 10s., 7d.; 30th December, 31l. 2d.; 6th January, 51l. 1s., 3d.; 16th January, 8l. 4s., 3d.; 18th January, 35l. 12s., 8d.; 20th January, 32l. 11s., 4d., and the 27th January, 54l. 11s., 1d.—there is a
credit, by cash 50l., on 26th January, that left a balance of 263l. 10s., 5d.
Cross-examined. I was employed at Messrs. Penson's before I went to Mr. Holden—the defendant did not deal with Messrs. Penson's—I did not supply him with goods for Penson's—I did not supply Mr. Holden with goods from Penson's—I was not aware, until after I was at Holden's, that he had had dealings with Penson's—I know now that Messrs. Penson supplied him with goods—I went into Holden's service in February last year—I received a salary, no commission—I know that Mr. Holden is the prisoner's uncle—I did not introduce the prisoner to Mr. Holden as a customer—I should say that during the time I was in Mr. Holden's service the prisoner had goods amounting to about 500l.—I won't say 1000l.—I have told you what I think it was—it was 500l., more or less, if you like—I began to travel for Messrs. Wilson & Bliss at the beginning of December—I had a salary there—they had only just started in business when I joined them—they were making a new business—I can't say that I was an active traveller; I hope I was—I believe that three of the defendant's brothers have taken Mr. Holden's business since he has retired—that is not in the same district as Messrs. Wilson & Bliss—one is in the Goewell Road, and the other is in Southwark—his brothers are in the wholesale way, as Messrs. Wilson & Bliss are—when I was at Mr. Holden's I used to go to the defendant once a week for orders, and I told him afterwards that I should be glad to see him at Wilson & Bike's warehouse—he said he would come down—that was almost immediately after I had left Mr. Helden's—I told the defendant I had gone into the employ of Wilson & Bliss—Mr. Holden was still in business at that time; that is Holden & Parker were—they continued till the end of 1870, and then Mr. Holden kept on on his own account till 2nd February—sometimes the defendant came down to Wilson & Bliss's warehouse—I was desirous of getting all the orders I could for my master.
GEORGE WILSON . I am a member of the firm of Wilson & Bliss, 231, High Street, Borough, provision merchants—we are creditors of the bankrupt to the amount of 263l. 10s., 5d., for goods delivered from 9th December, 1870, to 31st January, 1871—I received 50l. in cash on 26th January, 1871—the goods delivered were cheese, butter, bacon, and so on—there was a meeting of creditors on 23rd February—I attended the meeting—the defendant was there also—the accounts that he prepared for his liquidation were produced—I have them here—they are signed, each sheet, "Augustus Whitlock"—the cash-book was produced, which contained the stock takings and account of his debts and assets, for a portion of the time—the last entry was on 28th March—I asked the defendant how it was that was the last entry—he said he found he was so much behind, it was no use keeping any further account—I asked him whether he knew that when he came to us to buy his goods—he said yes, he knew it, but he did not think it would come so soon—I asked him what he meant by that, and he said he did not think he should fail so soon—it was determined that he should be made bankrupt, and that he should not be allowed to liquidate under the Liquidation Clauses—he said he kept the book, and it was in his own writing—I find an entry on 12th April, 1869, "Stock on hand, 212l. 16s., 6d.; debts on book, 16l. 16s., 6s.; cash in hand, 68l. 3s.; shop furniture, & cost 84l. 2d.; and then follows a list of "Debts I owe"—the total amount is 381l. 16s., 2d.; the two accounts balancing exactly—on 6th December he was 285l. 5s., 7d. to the bad; and on 20th December he was behind hand 524l.10s., 8d.—on 28th March, 1870, he was behind hand 578l. 5s., 3d.—
that is the last item of stock keeping in the book—I was appointed trustee when these proceedings were taken—the amount of assets is 109l. 13s., 10d., the debts being 999l. 1s., 8d., and book debts about 30l. 13s., 1d.—I have not received any of those, I have had nothing—the furniture was claimed by Mark Whitlock, the defendant's brother—it is set forth under the list of creditors fully secured, "Mark Whitlock, 44, Tottenham Court Road, London, holds lease."
Cross-examined. I was present at a meeting when the bankrupt was examined into his affairs, before the Registrar—on that occasion Mr. Reed appeared for me, and a Mr. Russell for Davenes—there was a counsel for the bankrupt—I don't know who be was—Mr. Reed struck out the inquiries about the furniture—I read an account of the examination in the "Grocer" newspaper—I believe he said his brother held the lease, but he did not know whether he had any charge on the furniture; that he believed his brother had a claim on the furniture as well as the house; that his brother had lent him 200l. in March, on going into business—I heard Mr. Reed press him as to whether he had not favoured some creditor—he denied that—I don't recollect Mr. Reed asking him why he ordered the goods, and I don't recollect his saying it was because the traveller called on him—I won't say that it did not occur, it does not strike me now—the stock was sold for 30l., which was estimated at 79l.—when he was asked by our counsel what had become of the proceeds of the goods, he said he had paid away all the moneys he received to his different creditors—he paid us 50l.—he said that the profits were one sixth, or eight per cent.—I don't recollect an account of 48l. 16s., being mentioned—I have no doubt it was—I heard him go into no detail—I did not hear him say he was in hopes of trying to pull himself round—he said he did not expect it would come so soon—I only saw one account in the "Grocer" newspaper—he did not say that he had no one to look after the business but himself, or that he was not trained up to the business, but was a chemist's assistant originally—he refused to sign the liquidation at first, but he signed it eventually—it was on that they made him a bankrupt—I have no feeling at all in this case, I only want it to be inquired into.
HENRY GOUGH . I live at 41, King Street, Clerkenwell, and am carman to Messrs. Davenes, 33, King Street, provision merchants—I have delivered goods to the prisoner from them, at his shop, in Lower Marsh, Lambeth—we used to send in our accounts every fortnight, but we were satisfied if we were paid at the end of the month—I called on the defendant at the end of February last, with two boxes of butter—I asked him if he had a cheque for me—he said "No, I have not, I will try and get you two cheques next time, if possible; if not, I will get you one, sure"—he asked me if I had any butter—I said "Yes"—he said he wanted two boxes, and I left them; they came to 9l. 15s.,—I called in four or five days, and found the shop shut up.
Cross-examined. It might have been a week—there was nothing unusual in the way the butter was sold or bought—if a customer wants goods, I leave them, and when I get home, I give an account of butter being left.
MR. BESLEY submitted there was no case to go to the Jury. THE COURT considered that there was no evidence of any intent to defraud, but that the goods were obtained in the ordinary way of trade and directed a veraict of
>NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE BROWN
LOUISA HOWARD . I am the wife of John Howard, and live at 36, London Road, Camberwell—I am a laundress, and am in the habit of receiving linen to wash for Mr. Christie—I received a quantity of things from him on 2nd May, and amongst them this table-cloth—I went to bed a little after 11 o'clock, and locked my house up, and all the things were safe—I came down a little before 5 o'clock next morning, and found that the laundry window had been broken open—the linen was scattered about all over the place—some portion of it was lying in the yard, and some had been taken away—this sheet was taken.
Cross-examined. I know the sheet by the mark and pattern.
DAVID TRIGG (Policeman L 79). I received information that the prisoner had attempted to pawn a table-cloth—I spoke to her at Victoria Cross—I asked her where she got the table-cloth from—she replied "A woman gave it to me, to go and pawn"—I asked her where the woman was—she said she did not know—I said "Do you know the woman f'—she said "I do not, I have never seen her before."
Cross-examined. I don't know the prisoner at all—I believe she gets her living by prostitution—she did not ask me to go anywhere to find the woman she spoke about.
GEORGE FRANKLIN (Detective Officer.) I went to the house where the burglary had been committed—I found a bundle of the property about 300 yards from the house, on a mound of earth—I showed them to Mrs. Howard and Mr. Christie, and they identified them.
Cross-examined. I did not find a fourth part of the property that was stolen—I searched the prisoner's house—I found no stolen property there.
NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY— Judgment Respited.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS
THOMAS JOYCE . I am a lighterman, and live at 35, Water Lane, Tower Street—on Monday, 24th April, I missed a bale of silk from a barge, called the Reward, which was under my care—t am the owner of that barge—I gave information to the police about middle day on Monday—between 4 and 5 o'clock in the afternoon the prisoner came to me, and said "I understand that you put the police on to me, about this bale of silk"—I took him up
stairs, to a private office, and told him we understood that he had made some offers to our lighterman, and if he had anything to do with it, he Had better tell at once—I asked him if he would have something to drink—he said "Yes"—there was a bottle of brandy on the table, and he helped himself to a glass of brandy—he only drank one glass then—I asked what he had to say, and I believe I said it would be better for him if he told me—I said "You had better let us know the full particulars, as we understand you are in it"—I did not tell him it would be any advantage to him to confess—I then left the office, with the prisoner and our foreman—we went somewhere up the Whitechapel Road—I then told him I had had enough of driving about in a cab—he said "I will get the silk; but I am not such a fool as to put you down at the door where the stuff is; come with me, and I will show you"—he took us down Bishopsgrate Street, into Church Street, and then I said I could not stand it any longer—he said he would let me know where it was; that it was in New Square, Horselydown, at a blacksmith's, and he was to go on the following morning—he came to me the following morning, and said he was drunk, and knew nothing about it—I gave him in charge—he was sober enough the night before, when he first came in—he had been drinking.
Cross-examined. He was sober enough when he first came, in, and he was drunk enough when he went out.
WILLIAM CARR BBNNETT . I am in the employ of the last witness—I loaded the bale of silk on to the barge Reward, on Saturday evening, 22nd April—the barge was lying alongside the ship Mars, at Horselydown—I left the barge about 5.45, at Davis' Wharf—I saw the prisoner that day on board the Mars—he was working on board, as labourer—as soon as I cleared the Mars, I went on board, and got my notes—I got over the sponson of the ship, and the prisoner came and spoke to me—he asked me if I would have a glass—I said I did not want one—he said. "Do have a glass"—I would not have one, and he said "There's nothing like a straight tip"—I said "No, there is not"—he said Is there any chance of any squidge, a bit of silk?"—I said "Not the slightest"—he said "Well, there is nothing like a straight tip" again, and he asked me to have another glass—I said I would not have one—he said "How would a half-sovereign look in your pocket to-night T—I said I had some—I then told him I had quite sufficient, and he had better go away, and he went away, and went ashore—I went and told the Custom House officer about it—the bales were in charge of the Custom House officer and the watchman at the wharf—t missed the bale about 7.30, on Monday morning.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had had a little to drink, but he was not the worse for drink—the barge was an open one.
THOMAS JOHN MCLARTY . I was in the office on the evening of the 24th—I heard Mr. Joyce tell the prisoner it would be better for him to tell the fact—he told me he could tell me where the squidge was—he told Mr. Joyce first he would not tell him, but he would tell me—I went in a cab with Mr. Joyce—the prisoner said, in the cab, that he would take us where it as—we were in the cab an hour and a half, taking us from place to place—I saw him again the next morning, and he said he wanted to see Mr. Joyce—he had had a little drop when I saw him the evening before.
JOSEPH BURCH (Detective Officer M.) I went to the prosecutor's office on Monday evening—the prisoner was there—he knew me—he said "Halloa, Charlie, what are you doing this side of the water?"—I said "I am anywhere
where; I am come to see about this silk; I believe I know where it is"—he says "You want to know all about it?"—I said "I want to know something; are you going to tell me;"—he said "Not now"—he afterwards said "I know where it is; I was promised 20l. for my share, and they have not done it"—I left him in the office with Mr. Joyce, and remained outside—he came out with Mr. Joyce and McLarty—I followed them to the Fenchurch Street Railway Station in a cab, and saw them discharge the cab—I saw the prisoner next morning, and asked him what he had to say about it—he said he did not know anything about it—I said I should take him for being concerned with others in stealing a bale of silk.
Cross-examined. When he came down from the private room he was not so drunk but that he could walk well—there was a reward of 25l. offered for the apprehension of the party.
WILLIAM LYONS . I am in the employment of the Customs—I was in charge of the barge Reward—I received a lighter note from the ship—there were two bales of silk—I did not know the weight—I missed one on the 24th.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 10TH JULY, 1871.