CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SECOND SESSION, HELD DECEMBER 11TH, 1871.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
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, December 11th 1871, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SILLS JOHN GIBBONS, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir JOHN MELLOR , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Mr. JUSTICE GROVE, one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., Sir THOMAS GABRIEL , Bart., THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq. and CHARLES WHETHAM , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City (acting as Deputy-Recorder); and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR . Esq., LL.D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
GIBBONS, MAYOR. SECOND 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, December 11th 1871.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
68. HENRY CAKVELL (28), PLEADED GUILTY to breaking into the shop of John Grant and stealing three watches, three chains, seventeen rings, and one key, having been before convicted of felony— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
69. EDWARD LLOYD (41) , to embezzling 22l. 0s. 6d. and 25l. 4s. 6d. of Lionel Newbury and another, his masters— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Recommended to Mercy by the Prosecutors—Judgment respited.
71. GEORGE GREEN (13) , to stealing two letters of Asher Isaac Myers, and uttering two forged orders for the payment of 2s. 6d., with intent to defraud— He received a good character, and his master promised again to employ him— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] One Month and Whipped.
MR. A. B. KELLRY conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY JOHN BREEZE . I am a clerk in the employment of Messrs. Braun and Co.—on the evening of 24th November, about 8 o'clock, I was in the Whitechapel Road, the prisoner and another man came up to me a short distance from the London Hospital, the prisoner struck me violently in the pit of the stomach, and I felt my watch being removed from my pocket—a constable came up and asked me what I had lost—the prisoner was still there, or within a very short distance—the other ran away—the prisoner was taken into custody—he was walking gently away—I have never seen my watch since—it was a gold one.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see me anywhere near you? A. When you struck me—not before you struck me with your fist.
JOSEPH NEWMAN (Policeman H R 20). On the evening of 24th November, about 8 o'clock, I was in company with Detective Shepherd and Mr. Freedman, a tailor, walking along the Whitechapel Road—I saw the prosecutor standing against the iron palisades by the London Hospital the prisoner standing in front of him and another man standing on left by his side—I saw the prisoner holding the prosecutor's waistcoat
his right hand and his left hand close to the prosecutor's right hand waist-coat pocket—as soon as his hands left the prosecutor he wiped his hands one over the other, and walked by the side of the other about a step—I tapped the prosecutor on the shoulder and said "Have you lost anything?"—he said "Yes, my gold watch"—I was in plain clothes—the other man ran away—I held the prisoner and told Shepherd to go after the other; but he did not catch him—I saw that the prosecutor's waistcoat was unbottoned, and there was no watch in his pocket—I told the prisoner what I took him for, and he said "I never touched the gentleman,"
JOHN SHEPHERD (Detective Officer H). I was with Newman and Freedman on this evening—I and Freedman were walking in advance of Newman—I saw the prosecutor walking towards Bow, and the prisoner and another man walking towards Aldgate—the prisoner stopped the prosecutor; he drew back and gave him a deliberate blow with his fist in the belly, which knocked him against the iron railings—I saw him snatch something from the prosecutor's waistcoat pocket, and hand it over the shoulder to the other man—I followed the man, but he doubled and I lost sight of him—he ran nearly as fast again as I did—the prisoner was taken on the spot.
HENRY FREEDMAN . I am a tailor—I was in company with the two officers—I saw the prisoner and another one standing—the prisoner hit the prosecutor in his chest—he took something from his pocket and gave it to the other man, who ran away—the officer took the prisoner, who was walking away very quickly.
GUILTY .**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Henderson, and MR. A. B. KELLEY defended Miles.
THOMAS TEW (Detective Officer N). On the night, 25th November, I was in plain clothes, about 11 o'clock, near the Angel, Islington—a gentleman named Govey came up, and we walked on towards Claremont Chapel, Pentonville—it was rather dark at that place—as we were walking along the prisoners came tumbling against me, apparently intoxicated—they had hold of each other's arms—I said "Hold up, gentlemen, don't roll about"—I could scarcely get the words out of my mouth when Henderson caught hold of my chain with his left hand, and struck me id the face with the other—it was a severe blow, and blackened my left eye—I put my hand to my waistcoat pocket, and called out "I have lost my watch"—Henderson struck me again as I held my watch with my hand—I said "You have made a mistake, I am a policeman"—I still kept hold of Henderson till the officers in uniform came up, and took him into custody—my watch chain was broken by the pull—I had it round my neck, through my button-hole into my waistcoat pocket—I never left go of Henderson—Miles was at the side of him—I had severe hits from some person—I could not tell who it was—I had black eyes for a week afterwards, and my forehead was much swollen.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMSM. This happened at 11 o'clock at night—I had been out about five hours on duty—I came out about 6 o'clock—I had been in the neighbourhood of the Upper Street and Pentonville Road about two hours—it was not a very cold night—I had no great coat on—I had a mackintosh and leggings on, but not during that two hours
—I had seen Govey before on several occasions, in different parts of the Upper Street—I have spoken to him on several occasions, said "Good morning," and so on—I believe he was a clerk—I can't say that he was at that time—he had been with me three or four minutes that night—there are a great many persons about that place—another officer, named Dudley, was walking behind me—I can't say that he was visible to Henderson and Miles—I did not see anyone else with the prisoners—I did not say to either of the prisoners, when they came up, "You have trod on my toe"—Govey did not say so—I did not hear any such remark—I did not hear Miles or Henderson say "It is very odd we should both tread on your toes at the same time"—I did not say "I will give you a b——punch in the eye,"Or anything of that kind—Miles did not say "You had bettor do if—I did not strike him in the face—it was two or three minutes before I said I was a policeman; as soon as I received the second blow in the eye—I have been in the police about seven year—I went into the mud, and so did Govey—his coat was entirely spoiled—Henderson went down—I don't know whether he went in the mud—he went down with me because he wanted to get away from me—I can't say whether Henderson was muddy—I did not examine him much—I had to keep hold of him—my left eye was bunged up, and I could not see much out of the other—as soon as I found Henderson's hand on my watch I called out "I have lost my watch"—that was before I said I was a policeman—I should think I was twenty yards from a lamp—I could see who struck me, and whose hand was on my chain—I could see pretty well.
Cress-examined by MR. KELLEY. I did not see Miles do anything, but I think I felt something of him—I can't say that he took any part in the transaction.
Re-examined. Dudley was in plain clothes—my watch was not taken—I scaught it just as it was coming out of my pocket.
HORACE GOVEY . I live at 256, St. Paul's Road, Highbury—I am a clerk—on the night of Saturday, 25th November, I was going to see a friend—I got to the Angel about 11 o'clock—I saw two officers there—I walked on with Tew—when we got as far as Claremont Chapel the two prisoners rolled up against us—Henderson snatched at Tew's watch chain with one hand, and struck him with the other—Tew called out "I have lost my watch"—I went to catch hold of Miles when he knocked me down—I got up again, and saw that Dudley had hold of Miles, and Henderson was slipping into Tew; striking him, and struggling with him—I went to his assistance, and caught hold of Henderson—he struggled very violently, and threw us both down, himself going down also—we held him till some men came up in uniform, and he was taken to the station—I should not think Dudley was very far behind when Miles knocked me down, because he got hold of him directly I got up—he was in plain clothes—I fell into the mud when I fell, and so did Tew and Henderson.
Cross-examined. It was rather a cold night—I had known Tew before by seeing him—I always said "Good morning," and "Good evening" to him—I had been with him five or six minutes that night—I was not in employment at that time—I had been out of employment about three months—I was doing nothing for a living at that time—I was not in the habit of walking about with the police—I was living with my father—Tew had no great coat on, and had not got one on his arm—I am quite sure of that—he said "I have lost my watch"—that was the first thing I heard
Tew say—I was walking close by his side—he did not address the prisoners before that—I did not hear him say "Hold up, gentlemen"—Henderson fell; we all three went down together—I did not notice Henderson's coat when we got to the station—I saw Dudley at the Angel, and said "Good evening"—he was with Tew—I did not know whether he was behind as I was walking along with Tew—the first time I discovered it was when he caught hold of Miles—it was a dark place there—there was a lamp a few yards off—I have lived at Highbury about three years—I know that road very well, but I have not counted the lamps—there are no shops there—it is a much frequented road—I can't say how long it was before the officers came up—it was all over in about three minutes—Tew and I were walking singly, not arm in arm—I did not hear anything said when the two prisoners tumbled up against Tew.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLEY. I did not rush in and knock Miles down—I tried to catch hold of him, and he knocked me down—I did not get hold of him—he was about 3ft. from me when I rushed at him—I did not strike him before he knocked me down—Miles did not fall—I fell on my back—when I got up Dudley had hold of Miles—I rushed towards Miles because I thought he was concerned—both of them had hold of each other's arms, and rolling about, and directly I heard Tew say "I have lost my watch" I tried to seize him.
GEORGE DUDLEY (Detective Officer N). I was walking three or four yards behind the last two witnesses—I saw Henderson strike Tew in the face—I then saw Miles strike him in the face—then Miles struck Govey, who fell on to his back in the mud—I then heard Tew say something about his watch—I caught hold of Miles, and said "Now be careful, you are in the hands of the police," and as Tew turned round I saw his chain hanging down—Miles struggled very violently to get away—both the prisoners said they would not be taken by such b——as us—two constables of the G division came up, and I handed Miles over to them—they were taken to the station—I don't know who took Henderson—there were four constables in uniform at the station.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I don't know who it was took Henderson—I can't say whether Tew did—neither of the four constables who came up are here to-day—I was about four yards behind Tew and Govey—there might have been things said that I did not hear—the first thing I heard said by Tew was something about his watch—after the assault I was near enough to hear anything—Govey passed me at the Angel, and said "Good evening"—I knew him before—I have seen him a great many times in Islington—I have not had much conversation with him, we merely passed the word "Good morning," and "Good evening"—I believe he is a clerk—his father is a gentleman—I believe he was out of employment at that time—he and Tew started from the Angel, and I was close behind—it was rather a cold night—Tew had not got a great coat on, and he had not got a mackintosh with him—I had been with him from about 6.30—he had a mackintosh the first part of the evening—I saw it at the Islington police-station about 6.30—he was with me after that time till the assault took place—I did not notice his mackintosh during that time—we were on duty together—I did not notice any mackintosh, except at the police-station—it is a very small mackintosh, and can be put in the pocket—there was a lamp about three yards from where the assault took place—I had no difficulty in seeing—there
was a public-house about twenty yards off—there were not many persons in the road when the assault was committed—a great many came round after—two of the G division came up, and they took Miles to the station—I can't tell who took the charge—it was a charge of attempting to steal a watch—it was certainly not a charge of assault—the watch was in Tew's pocket at the station—the chain was broken.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLEY. I heard the complaint that Tew made about his watch—that was after the assault—I say that Miles struck Tew in the face—he was standing right in front of Tew.
HENDERSON received a good character.
THE JURY found a verdict of GUILTY of an assault, which, net being charged in the indictment, the DEPUTY RECORDER directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, December 11th, 1871.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Etq.
77. NICHOLAS GAR-RAWAY (35) , for stealing one watch and other articles of Charles Reynold, in his dwelling-house, he having been before convicted of felony— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Seven Years' Penal Servitude—There was another Indictment against the Prisoner.
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Protection.
JOHN POTTER . I assist my father, who keeps a wine shop at 19, Upper Street, Islington—about a fortnight previous to the prisoner being taken into custody he came in for a half-pint of gin in his own bottle—I saw an assistant serve him and he tendered a half-crown—he left the shop and I examined the half-crown and found it was bad—I ran after him and told him it was bad—he said he did not know it; he would come back—he looked at the half-crown and asked me if he might break it, and I said yes, and he did so—he paid for the gin with a good florin.
FRANCES HANNAH TATHAM . I am barmaid at the York Hotel, Duncan Street, N., Islington—on 7th November, about 5 o'clock, the prisoner came there, and I served him with 6d. worth of brandy in his own bottle—he gave me a bad half-crown—I gave it to Mrs. Kitchen, the landlady—she told the prisoner it was bad—he said "I was not aware of it; my misses gave it to me"—the landlady gave him back the half-crown—he went out and came back in about twenty minutes and tendered a bad florin—I broke it—I went into the bar-parlour and told Mrs. Kitchen something, and gave her the florin—Mr. Kitchen came out to the bar—I did not tell the prisoner the florin was bad, and I did not give him the change—he saw me take it into the bar-parlour.
CHARLES KITCHEN . I am landlord of the York Hotel—on the 7th November the last witness came into the bar-parlour, told me something, and gave me a bad florin, about twenty minutes past 5 o'clock—I went out to the bar and saw the prisoner—I told him that he had brought a half-crown previously, and when he had come to fetch away what he had left he
had brought a bad florin—I bent it and showed it to him—he said it was not bad—I tried to catch hold of him over the bar—he got from my hold, got out of the door, and ran away—I jumped over the bar and gave chase—some gentlemen tripped him up and held him till a constable came up—I gave the constable the bad florin.
The Prisoner in his Defence stated, that he made some purses that day and sold them, and received in payment a half-crown, a florin, a shilling, and two six-pences; that his wife was ill, and he went for some brandy, and paid with the half-crown, which was found to be bad—that he went to get a florin from his wife to pay with, and as he was going back to the shop he met his little girl with a milk jug and some butter, and that he found the little girl had got some brandy in the milk jug—that he went into the public-house with the jug and the butter, and put down the florin for the brandy he had left in the bottle—that he was not aware the florin was bad, and was never in Potter's house at all.
COURT to F. H. TATHAM. Q. Did he bring a milk jug and some butter to your house? A. Yes, the second time.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN SMITH . I am barmaid at the Red Lion public-house—on 29th November last, between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening, Thomas came into the house and asked for a half-pint of beer and a screw of tobacco—he gave me a bad florin—I said "Young man, this is a bad two shilling piece"—he said is it?"—I said "Yes"—he said "I have taken it in a deal; I shall only be able to take the beer," and he gave a penny, drunk his beer and went out with the florin—I did not see the other man.
ANN BIGGS . I am the wife of William Biggs, who keeps the Bald-faced Stag, at Hendon—on 29th November last, about 6 o'clock in the evening, Martin came in for a glass of ale, which came to 1 1/2 d.—he gave a bad florin—I told him it was bad—he said "Give it me back again, I have some coppers," and he paid me in coppers—I did not give it him back—I put it on a cabinet, amongst some glasses—Chambers was present—he went round the bar and took Martin into custody—I gave the bad florin to the constable.
WILLIAM CHAMBERS (Policeman S 44). On 29th November, about 5.45, I was in the Red Lion when the prisoner Thomas came in—I saw him served and put down a florin on the counter—a conversation took place between him and the barmaid—he went out and I followed him, and at the end of the Hythe he joined Martin—I watched them for some few minutes and saw them go towards the Bald-faced Stag—I made my way there, and shortly after Martin came in and called for a glass of ale and a screw of tobacco, and gave in payment a bad two shilling piece—the landlady took it up and said it was bad—the prisoner said he was not aware of it—the landlady put it on the cabinet at the back—I walked round and asked her to give it to me—I found it was bad—I searched Martin and found good money on him—I went out and saw Thomas opposite the Baldfaced Stag—I brought him in, searched him, but found nothing on him—I afterwards
searched with a constable at the spot where he was standing, and three florius were picked up there, wrapped in a piece of blue tissue paper—I produce the florin taken at the Baldfaced Stag.
Thomas. I never went into the public-house, as the prosecutor stated.
GEORGE PEARCE (Policeman S 149). On 29th November, about 6 o'clock in the evening, I was outside the Baldfaced Stag, and saw the last witness there—I searched a place pointed out to me, and I found three bad florins—the prisoners were locked up at that time.
Martin in his defence stated, that he was not aware that the money was bad, and kmew nothing of the other prisoner.
Thomas in his defence stated, that he knew nothing about the coins that were, found and that he was never in Martin's company.
— GUILTY .
Martin also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted, in May, 1869, of robbery. Thomas was further charged with having been before convicted.
RICHARD KEMP . I am a warder at the Wandsworth House of Correction—I was present at the trial of Thomas at this Court, on 4th April, 1870, when he was tried for a robbery with violence, in company with another man—I produce, the certificate of his conviction—he was sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment, in the name of Knowles—he was only discharged last October—I saw him every day, and sometimes half-a-dozen times a day before that.
Thomas I was never convicted.
Two Years' Imprisonment.
MARTIN— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. ST. AUBTN the Defence.
BRYCE BROWN . I keep the Albion Arms, Notting Hill—on 29th November, the prisoner came in with two females, one of whom called for a quartern of rum, and paid with a good shilling—I put it into the till—there was only a half-crown and a florin there—the prisoner then called for a quartern of rum, and put down a shilling—I tried it with my teeth—it did not grit, and I put it in the till, and gave him 6d. and 1d. change—he then asked for some bread and cheese, and put down another shilling—I tried it, and it broke—I then tried the other, and that broke—I charged the prisoner, and he said he never gave me a shilling at all, he gave me sixpence—I said that I had given him sixpence and one penny back—he said that I had not, and I might search him—I saw the constable search him—he only found fourpence, but afterwards a sixpence dropped—he said that he did not know he had it, and that it was not a sixpence which I had given him.
Prisoner. Q. Did you give me 10 1/2 d. change out of the first shilling, and seven-pence out of the second? Yes, you would have had 1s. 5d. on you if you did not pass it away—two women were with you, and one of them dropped down in the bar—sixpence and one penny was found on one of them, and nothing on the other.
Re-examined. The women were charged with being drunk, and with uttering—they had drank of the second quartern of rum with the prisoner; nobody else was served with them; they were in the private bar.
JOHN MATTHESON (Policeman). The prisoner was given into my custody—two women, who were with him, were taken up for being drunk—I—I searched the prisoner, and found 6 1/2 d., in bronze—he said that he had not a sixpence—I knocked one out of his right hand—I received these two shillings from Brown.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution.
SAMUEL LYTHEL (City Policeman 169). On the evening of 16th November I met the two prisoners in Newgate Street—Edwards was carrying this sack on his shoulder, and Burns had this basket on her arm—I watched them to a public-house, and before they went in Edwards took something from his lefthand trowsers pocket, and gave it to Burns—they went into separate compartments of the Grapes—Burns put something on the bar, and the barman gave her change—she came out, and they walked away together—I followed them to Cripplegate Buildings, and saw Burns give Edwards something, and afterwards he gave her something—I looked through a public-house door, and saw the landlord serve her—I immediately went and caught hold of her left hand—she had in it a good sixpence, and five-pence in copper—the landlord took a sixpence from the till, and said that it was bad—I took her to the station, and five farthings were found on her.
THOMAS GEORGE KEMP . I am barman at the Grapes, Aldersgate Street—on 16th November I served Burns with some hot shrub, and she gave me sixpence, and I gave her the change—I put the sixpence in the till, and afterwards gave it to Randall.
Burns. I gave you three halfpence.
JOHN CARLE . I keep the Cripplegate Tavern—on 16th November, about 6.30, I served Burns with a glass of porter—she gave me a sixpence—I put it into the till, and gave her the change in copper—Lythel came in and said something—I went to the till, and saw the same sixpence on the top of the other money—there was only one other sixpence, which was at the bottom of the other money—I can swear that this is the one I received from Burns—I marked it, and gave it to the officer.
EDWARDS— GUILTY .*— Two Years' Imprisonment.
BURNS— GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
82. THOMAS SMITH (33), and MARY ANN JOHNSON (28) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Cole Beasley, and stealing therein twenty silver forks, and thirty-two spoons, and other articles, his property. Second Count. Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
AMELIA FARRER . I am housemaid to William Cole Beasley, of St. George's Square, Pimlico—on Thursday night the cook, Maria Temple, and I, went to bed at 10.30—I have charge of the silver, and I locked it up in a cupboard in the pantry, which is in the basement, and took the key upstairs
stairs—the scullery window at the back of the house was shut, but there was no fastening on it—next morning, about 7.15, the cook called me down stairs, and I found the plate-basket in the kitchen, and the pantry door closed, which had been open over night, and the silver was gone—it consisted of twenty silver forks, thirty-two spoons, three ladles, two dessert knives, a mustard-pot, and some other articles—the scullery window was open—I also missed some money out of my box in the kitchen—I do not know either of the prisoners.
SOLOMON DALIES (Policeman L 34). On 28th November I was on duty in Westminster Bridge Road, and was called? Mr. Archbutt's, a pawnbroker's—I looked through a square of glass in the side door, and saw a man in the shop, who I believe to be the prisoner Smith—he was talking to the pawnbroker behind the counter—I was in uniform—I stood there two or three minutes, and the man rushed out—I stopped him—he laid "I am not the man you want; the man you want has gone out at the front door"—I took him back into the shop, and Mr. Archbutt said that he was tho man who pledged some spoons, and had come to redeem them, and be handed seven spoons to me—I taw Johnson waiting outside, about three yards from the door—she seemed very anxious about him—she followed close behind him, and appeared to want to take something from him—I told her to keep away—she said she did not know him, and had never seen him—she followed him as close as she could get—I met 91 L and told him to bring her to the station—Smith was feeling in his pockets as if to pass something to her—when I gave her in custody Smith pulled something from his pocket, and threw some silver among the crowd, saying "You b——if you have me, you shall not have the property"—91 L picked them up—they are tea-spoons, butter knives, forks, and other articles, and some of them the people picked up and handed over.
GEORGE JORDAN (Policeman L 91). Dales gave Johnson into my custody—she was walking behind Smith, who was in custody—she said that she knew nothing about him—I told her I should take her to the station—she said "I don't care, I have done nothing"—I saw Smith take these things from his coat pocket and throw them away—I picked up four of them.
WALTER BARRELL (Detective Officer B) I was at the Rochester Row Station when the prisoners were brought in—I knew them, I had seen them together four or five times and had followed them three days—I knew that they lived at 7, New Peter Street, but I did not know the room—I went there the same day, searched the top floor front room and found among the rubbish in the coal-hole, these seven silver forks, this mustard pot, soup ladle, gravy spoon, seven plated forks, fish knife and fork, three dessert spoons, and five salt spoons (produced)—there was a black and white dog there which I had seen Smith with on the Saturday before—I said to Smith at the station "It is a curious place to put the property in the coal-hole"—he said "We wore bound to put it somewhere to keep other people from finding it."
Smith. Q. Is not the place you call a coal-hole a small cupboard? A. Yes, but there was coal in it, and cinders and a lot of rubbish.
some dark lanterns, and a box of cigars—also two coats, which are identified with another robbery.
Smith. Q. Where were the things? A. Near the window of the front room, on the floor—there were several other things, and some clothes packed up as if you were going to move—I did not secure the child's clothing.
SQUIRE WHITE (Detective Officer B). I was sent for on the morning of 24th November, to 41, St. George's Square—I examined the premises and found that an entry had been effected by climbing a water-pipe at the rear of No. 43, getting on to the roof, getting in at the sky-light window, dropping into a passage, entering the scullery window, and forcing open the pantry cupboard door with a pair of tongs, the marks of which were on the door—I telegraphed at once to the different pawnbrokers, and on the 28th received information that the prisoners were in custody—I assisted in searching the room, and found some pawn-tickets—I had received information—I told Johnson to take off her dress—she said "What am I to do for another?"—I said "I will bring you one from the workhouse"—she said "No, go to where you have been and bring the one from behind the door"—I did so and she put it on—I found in the room, behind a looking-glass, a pawn-ticket relating to some silver articles which Mr. Beasley has identified.
JOSEPH AKED . I am assistant to Mr. Archbutt—I did not take these articles in, but I think I have seen Smith at our shop—I produce some plate pawned by him, the proceeds of another robbery—I was present on 28th November, when the prisoner came to redeem these articles—he gave the ticket up and the money was taken for them, 2l., but in the meantime we sent for a constable, who took charge of them—Mr. Archbutt told the prisoner to step into the front shop, but he turned round and bolted out of the door and the constable stopped him.
Smith. Q. Did not you tell the Magistrate that you would not swear I was the man who pledged them? A. Yes, but I said I believed you were the man.
JOHN HASTINGS . I am assistant to Mr. Barrett, a pawnbroker, of Lambeth—I produce eight table spoons, pledged for 4l. 4s., in the name of George Smith, on 10th November, about 12 o'clock—I do not recognize Smith.
EDWARD HOGAN . I am assistant to Mr. Richards, a pawnbroker, of Westminster Bridge Road—I produce two table forks and six teaspoons, pledged by a man, on 2nd November, for 4l.—this (produced) is the ticket I issued at the time.
Smith stated, in a written defence, that Johnson was his wife, and that he bought the plate of hit brother George to make a present, and that when he threw it away what he said was that if it was stolen he would carry it no further. He contended that that was no evidence of his pawning the plate, and stated that there was a great likeness between him and his brother; that the lantern was an ordinary one, and that the keys were padlock keys.
GUILTY on the Second Count. Johnson was further charged with having been convicted in September, 1864, in the name of Mary Ann Elis, to which she
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' each in Penal Servitude.
MR. WITHERS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. PATER the Defence.
GEORGE FELLOWES (Policeman E 174). On 22nd November, about 1 o'clock, a.m., I was near Berner's Mews, and heard a cry of "Police!"—the prisoner ran out of the mews—I ran after him about sixty yards, overtook him, and asked him why he was running away—he said that he was running home—I asked what he was doing up the mews—he said that he went up for his own purposes—I said that he must come back with me, and took hold of his left arm—he took my number, and then put his hand to his coat pocket, threw this lantern (produced)—backwards, and tripped me up—we had a scuffle, and I picked the lantern up, and Jarman came and detained him while I went round to the front door, and Mr. Kent said "That is one of the men I saw get over the wall"—I took him to the station, came back with Jarman and Inspector Arrett, and examined the place—the area window, which is a fixture, was forced open seven inches, and there were marks corresponding with this jemmy—the lantern was quite warm.
Cross-examined. I saw another man fall from the wall, but the lantern was forty yards from him—the prisoner's overcoat was flying open when he ran out of the mews—he put his right hand behind him beyond the hip, while I had hold of his left arm—it was my notion that he put his hand in the pocket behind his coat—I can identify the coat (the prisoner handed his coat to the witness)—this coat has side pockets, and none behind; but it was flying open and the side pocket was behind—I had been on duty three hours that night—I had not been in the mews before—I picked up the lamp not quite a minute after it was thrown away—it was two yards from the wall.
Re-examined. The prisoner had on a reefing jacket under this coat.
FREDERICK JARMAN (Policeman E R 21). On 22nd November, about 1 o'clock a.m., I was at Berner's Mews—I heard a cry of "Police!"—I saw the prisoner run away—I ran and saw another man running down the mews—I pursued him, but was unable to catch him—I went to Fellowes' assistance, and heard something rattle against the wall—I caught hold of the prisoner, and Fellowes picked up this lamp—I took the prisoner to the entrance of the mews where I picked up this jemmy, under the wall—Mr. Kent said that two men had got over the wall, and when he saw the prisoner he said "That is one man who got over the wall"—I found a window forced open, and the marks on it corresponded with this jemmy.
Cross-examined. It was about seven or five minutes to 1 o'clock—the lamp was lying on the ground, about thirty yards from the entrance of the mews.
WILLIAM JAMES KINT . I fastened up my premises, 49, Newman Street, on 21st November, about 11 o'clock—my son called me shortly before 1 o'clock, and I listened and heard a grating noise, and a sound as if the window had given way—I raised the sash, called "Police!' and saw two men go away, and distinctly saw the prisoner by the gas-light on his face—I had a good view of his features—the other man dropped his light in the yard, which was found by the police—I found marks on the window below.
Cross-examined. I was not at all alarmed or excited—I looked out of the first-floor window—there is no garden—the wall is about three yards
high—the prisoner got on to the dust-hole, then on to the cistern, and then on to the wall—he had a hat on, and I was looking down upon him—I had never seen him before—I could not speak with the same degree of positiveness to the other man if I saw him; because he was close to the wall under me.
Re-examined. The back wall is not close to the house, but a very short distance from it—it is seven or eight feet high, and the window is not about three yards from it, so that when he was on the top of the wall I was not looking down on his head—the gas-light was reflected directly into the yard and on his face.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 12th, 1871.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
WILLIAM KNIGHT . I am collector, in the employ of Lewis William Thomas and another, of 1 and 2, Cheapside, sewing machine manufacturers—about 2nd October the prisoner came to our warehouse, and asked for a sewing machine—he said it was for his daughter, she wanted to purchase it, and he was to pay for it by easy instalments—our terms are 1l. down, and 1l. a month—he said his name was Davis, that he was a cattle dealer, and that he lived at 11, Camden Park Road, North—on 5th October I went there and saw the prisoner there—he showed me some papers, amongst them a receipt for rent for the last or previous quarter—upon that, and upon his stating that he was a cattle dealer, well known in the market, and did a very extensive business, he signed this memorandum (produced) in my presence, and I supplied him with a machine—I did so from his stating that he was the tenant of the house and had been living there some time, and also that he was a cattle dealer and well known in the market and in the neighbourhood.
Prisoner. Q. Did you not ask me how long I had been there? A. I did—you did not tell me that you had not been there a quarter—I did not make inquiries about you in the neighbourhood then—I never made inquiries previous, I did afterwards—I looked at jour papers, and satisfied myself that it was a receipt for a quarter's rent of that house.
JOHN HARRISON BARRETT . I am bookkeeper in Messrs. Thomas's employ—since November, 1870, I have occupied apartments at 3, Crescent Street, Thonihill Crescent—on 20th September the prisoner became tenant of that house—he came in possession on 9th October—I have paid him rent for the apartments—I knew him by the name of John Harris—I have seen the machine, No. 2044, in the possession of Detective Warr—it was the one sold to the prisoner.
of Bank Wharf, Camden Town—11, Camden Park Road belongs to them—on 4th October last, the prisoner took that house at the rent of 45l. a year, in the name of George Davis—he has never paid any rent for it.
JOSEPH GREEN . I am a detective in the employ of the Great Northern Railway Company—I have known the prisoner about sixteen year—his name is John Redmond—he was in the Great Northern Railway Police in April, 1855—he left in August, 1855, and went into business in the coal, green, and potato line—I never knew him as a cattle dealer.
JAMES WILSON (Policeman Y 219). I have known the prisoner since last July, and have lived four or five houses from him—I never saw any daughter of his—he was living in the name of John W. Redmond—I was talking to him and his wife one day about burying three of my children within eighteen months, and she said in his presence "I am happy to say that we have never known that trouble, because we have never had any family"—on the 24th November I apprehended the prisoner outside 3, Crescent Street—Mr. Barrett was with me—I told him the charge—on the way to the station he twice asked Mr. Barrett not to press the charge against him—at the station he said "What am I kept here for?"—I told him—he said "What for that b——machine"—I said "Yes"—he said "I paid 1l. for the b——."
ALFRED MILLS . I am a carman and have stables in Arthur Mews—one Friday, I don't remember the date, about 6.30, the prisoner brought a sewing machine there on his back and said it was to be left there for two or three days—it remained there for two or three days, and I then gave information to the police.
The prisoner in hit defence stated that he wanted the machine for a niece, not for a daughter, and that the having obtained a situation did not require it, and it was taken to the stables in order to be returned to Mews. Thomas, before the second instalment was due.
The DEPUTY RECORDER in leaving the cote to the Jury, observed that although there was a contract signed by the prisoner, yet if they were of opinion that that contract was accepted and acted upon by the prosecutor in consequence of the false representation of the prisoner as to his status and position, it was part of the fraud by means of which the goods were obtained.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Detective Warr stated that a number of tradesmen had been defrauded by the prisoner in a similar manner.
MESSRS. METCALFE and SLADE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
Miss Freeth, Bedford Park, Croydon, and gave it to my maid to post about 7.45 in the evening—this (produced) is the letter.
Cross-examined. This was the only letter I sent that night; it had no enclosure.
DENNIS CREMER . I am porter at 21, Grosvenor Mansions—on 20th November, about 7.45, I received this letter from last witness—I put it in the pillar letter-box at the corner of High Street Place, Victoria Street, as near 8 o'clock as possible, with this other letter (produced), addressed to Mrs. Coulson, 132, Lower Bagot Street, Dublin—she is a tenant who has apartments in the house, but was then staying at Dublin—I enclosed in the letter another letter directed to her, and also a little memorandum—I posted the letters in the usual way; I put them into the pillar box the same as I always did—I have been living in that street ten years, and I have been in the habit of posting letters sometimes eight or ten times a day—I put the letters in at the top—there is a plate that goes in, and you can drop or slip them in, and they will either fall out into the street or fall into the box—I am certain that I pushed them in (model produced)—that is the way I put them in, and they dropped over—if they did not go in they would come out into your hand—I am positive they went over that ledge.
Cross-examined. The letter now contains just what it did when I posted it—I posted the letters in the ordinary way—I had no other errand—I simply went out and posted the letters, and went back; it is just across the road—this box has not been there very long, not a year—it has not always had the same aperture, the old one was different from this, it was taken away and a new one put—I don't recollect that I heard the letters drop in the box, there is such a noise in the street—I saw them disappear, that I swear—the mouth of the letter-box is towards the railings of the houses; it stands on the kerb—I have seen the inside of the box when the postman has taken the letters out, but not to notice it.
Re-examined. This kind of aperture has been there for some months.
HENRY SKEATE (Policeman). On 20th November, about 10 minutes past 8, I was on duty in Victoria Street, and saw the two prisoners standing close together, side by side, close by the pillar letter box; they did not touch it—they were standing quite still—I was coming from Victoria Station, and when I got within about 20 or 25 yards of the box they walked towards me, and as they passed me I heard one say to the other "We must look out for him"—they had just got past me—I went on, and as I passed the box I cast my eyes into the mouth of it, and could see nothing in the aperture—I am sure there were no letters at that time sticking in the aperture, not to my sight—after hearing what they said, my attention was called to the box—that was the reason I looked—there is a gas lamp not quite 20 yards from the letter-box, which shows a full light on it—it stands on the same kerb as the box, in a line with it—there are no lamps over the doors there—after I had got a few yards past the box I looked round, and I saw the prisoners looking round, watching me—I went a little farther on, looked round again, and saw them still looking round, but they were walking on at the same time—I went on about 40 yards from the box, and they went about the same distance the other way—they then stopped on
the pavement, and I stopped for about five minutes—I then saw them walking towards me again, and I walked towards them, and we passed each other—just before I got to the turning they had come past the letter-box—I then turned round to the left in Ashley Place, by the area railings, and there I secreted myself, and watched them—they went up about the same distance that I did, and there they stopped again for about two minutes—they then walked back to the box—I got round the other corner into Ashley Place, and there I could see the box perfectly plain—the prisoners came and stood by the box in the middle of the pavement for about half a minute, then they placed themselves side by side by the box, and I saw Bradley place his hand into the mouth of the box, and I could see something white appearing from it (describing it with the model)—at that time I saw Smith touch Bradley, and they walked away, leaving the white sticking out nearly an inch, or it might have been quite an inch—it was out far enough for me to catch hold of—the prisoners walked towards Victoria Station—I went directly up to the box, and found these letters sticking out, so—I did not notice how the top one was, but this one was sticking out corner ways, like that—they were both there, but I could only see one—I am quite certain they were not there when I passed the box before—I pulled the letters out, took them with me, and followed the prisoners—they looked round and saw that I was after them, and Smith separated from Bradley—they walked some distance like that; I stopped on the pavement, and Smith looked round and then joined Bradley again—there were three gentlemen walking towards Victoria Station, and I walked on behind them until I got opposite the prisoners, when I took them both into custody—I told them I should want to take them to the station—they said "What for?"—I said "I will tell you that when I get you into the station"—Smith said "Tell me now?"—I said "It is for attempting to take these letters out of the pillar letter box"—Smith said "I shan't go"—I said "You will"—he said he should not—I asked a young man who was standing by to go to Victoria Station for a constable—Smith then said "I will go," and I took them both to the station—on the way Smith said something about waiting for a brother or brother-in-law of Bradleys, that they had to wait outside a public-house for him—they had every opportunity of parting with anything after they left the letter box, they were some distance in front of me, and there were several people passing by—I afterwards examined the letter box—I found that the aperture was a little bit wet and damp—it was a very foggy night, it might have been caused by that—about three-quarters of an hour afterwards I saw the box opened; it was not full—there were not above forty or fifty letters in the box.
Cross-examined. I started with the notion that these men meant to rob the letter-box—that was my idea from their conduct, and my intention was to see whether or no they did rob it—at the time I saw them move something white, there was no one else near the box that I could see—I could not see into Victoria Street—there was nothing to prevent their taking the letters if they had so liked—I was in uniform—I heard the words "We must look out for him" quite distinctly—they had just passed me—I noticed on five different occasions that they were watching me—four occasions before they tried to get the letters out of the box, the fifth occasion was after they had got the letters to the top, when I was walking after them—I hid myself behind the railings in Ashley Place—I could see straight to the letter-box—I was twelve yards from it—I should hardly
think they could have seen me, because I was in the dark—was peeping through the railings—the lamp would not throw the light on the front of the letter-box—I could see the aperture by the light of the lamp—I did not go to the public-house to ascertain if there was anyone there the prisoners knew—I did not lose sight of the prisoners till they got round the second corner, just for a minute as they turned the corner—it was Bradley's hand that I saw at the box—Smith was then standing on his right side—when I first passed the letter-box I saw nothing white sticking out—the box is about 5ft. 4 in. high—the height of the aperture is about 5ft.
JOHN GOLD . I am clerk of the works at the General Post Office—I have examined the letter-box in question and made the model produced—if a letter is put in the aperture and over this incline, there is nothing to stop it from going down, the interior of the box is quite clear, there is a cavity of about 16 or 18 inches in diameter each way—there is a wire guard in front of the door to prevent the letters dropping out when the door is opened—when I examined the box there was no imperfection, or anything to obstruct a letter from going to the bottom.
Smith received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MILLWOOD conducted the Prosecution.
JULIUS FREDERICK BALCOMB (Interpreted). I am a tailor, at 36, Warwick Lane, Deptford—on the night of 27th November I was on Tower Hill, the worse for drink—the prisoner came up and asked me to treat her with something to drink—she said that in English, and I understood it—I said "No"—she told me to come with her, and she looked at a ring that I had on my finger—she took the ring off my finger, and also a scarf from my neck—she ran away then—I ran after her, but I could not catch her—I called "Police!" and the police caught hold of her—I did not lose sight of her—I gave her in charge—this is my scarf and ring (produced).
Prisoner. He gave me the handkerchief and ring. Witness. No—I was not in a public-house with her on Tower Hill—it was about 10 o'clock at night.
JAMES IRVING (Policeman H 40). On the night of 26th November I was on duty in Royal Mint Street—I saw the prisoner and prosecutor together—all at once I heard a cry of "Police!"—I ran to the top of Tower Hill, and saw the prosecutor having hold of the prisoner—I got within one or two yards of them, and the prisoner got away—I ran after her, and brought her back to the prosecutor—I asked her if she had anything, and she said "No"—I asked the prosecutor what he had lost—he said a gold ring off his finger and a scarf off his neck—he understood what I said—I found the ring in the prisoner's left hand, and while I was taking it out of her hand she threw the scarf down on the ground—she took it out of her pocket. Prisoner. I did not run away, neither did I have the scarf in ray pocket.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
and am a waste paper dealer—on the night of 21st November I was going towards home about 10.30 or 11 o'clock—when I got near my house I saw two or three men coming towards me—I tried to avoid them—they ran out of a place where they are pulling down two or three houses—one of them hit me in the mouth and knocked me down, and one had me at the back of the neck when I wag down—the other one had me by the throat, and another one picked my pocket of a little canvas bag and five sovereigns in it, which I had in my left-hand trouser's pocket—one of them said "Kill the old b——, or take his money"—I can't tell which of them said that—I had seen my money about three minutes before—I was very much hurt—an officer ran up the court, and presented his bull's eye—I don't know whether they saw the light, but they ran, and he ran after them—I found my money was gone, but I could not halloa, I was grizzling like—my throat was so bad, because they held me so tight—I saw no more of them I can't say that I know any of them.
Cross-examined. It was about 11 o'clock—I daresay it had gone 11 o'clock—I did not take particular notice.
WALTER BAKER (Policeman G 74). From information I received I apprehended the prisoner on the night of 21st November, about 11.15, twenty or thirty yards from where the offence was committed—I told him the charge—he said he knew nothing about it—he was taken to the station, and afterwards placed amongst six other persons, and the witness Neale picked him out—he had previously given a description of the man.
John Neal, a boy, nine years of age, on being examined as to the nature of an oath, was not considered by THE COURT competent to be sworn, and there being no evidence but his as to the identity of the prisoner, he was found.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD the Defence.
WILLIAM MADDEN . I am a greengrocer, and live at 40, Paradise Place, Essex Road, Islington—I have seen the prisoner before, but never spoke to him that I know of—on the night of 8th December, between 7 and 8 o'clock, I had been in a public-house, and had something to drink—the prisoner was in there—I was a little the worse for what I had taken—I believe the prisoner followed me from there, but that I could not swear to—at the corner of Pitman Street, Essex Road, about fifty yards from the public-house, he struck me, and knocked me down—I found him atop of me, and when he got off and ran away I hallaoed out "Stop thief!"—I put my hand in my pocket, and found I had lost my moriey, 4l. 16s., tied up in a bag—I have never seen it since—I had seen it safe hardly a minute before, as I came out of the public-house—I had taken it out there, but did not take any money out of it—I came out of the house with my hand in my right hand pocket, and when the prisoner struck me my hand flew out of my pocket.
Cross-examined. Besides the 4l. 16s. in the bag, I had a two shilling piece and some silver in my pocket—I had 5l. 10s. when I left home in the morning at 8 o'clock—I did not speak to the prisoner or wrangle with him—he is a costermonger—I knew him by sight.
night of the 8th December, a little after 7 o'clock, I was going along the Essex Road—there was a crowd on the pavement, and the prosecutor and prisoner came in contact—there appeared to be a wrangle, and almost immediately the prisoner knocked the prosecutor down with a violent blow in the mouth, which caused blood, and he fell on him—I called to a young man to take him off, which he did with great force, and when he got up the prosecutor called "Stop thief!"—he ran and I after him; but I lost him, and came back—I gave a description of him, and afterwards, about 11 o'clock, I called at the station and saw seven persons drawn up in the passage—at first I did not recognise the prisoner, but a second time I put my hand upon him, and said he was the man.
Cross-examined. I did not hear what they were wrangling about, it was so sudden; but I distinctly saw the prisoner from a strong light at the butcher's—he seized the prosecutor by the handkerchief.
FANNY OSBORN . I live at 17, Popham Street, Islington—I work for the prosecutor—on Friday night, 8th December, a little after 7 o'clock, I was at the top of Pickering Street, Essex Road, and saw the prisoner hit my master in the mouth and knock him down, and he held him by his shoulders on the ground—he got up and ran away—my master said "I am robbed."
Cross-examined. They were not quarrelling when I first came up, they were just on the jangle—the blow was struck directly after I saw him—I heard the prisoner say "Turn out your pockets, I have been with you all the night, and now you say I have robbed you"—that was before he knocked him down, I think—I am not quite sure.
CHARLES LARKING (Policeman N 333). The prosecutor made a complaint to me—I afterwards took the prisoner into custody—I told him the charge—he said "I don't know what you mean, I know nothing about it"—I found on him one sovereign and 30s. in silver—he could only account for 8s. 6d. of it.
Cross-examined. The inspector asked him how he became possessed of the money—he said he could not give any account—he said "I generally have a lot of money in my pocket—I have about 50s. altogether"—I believe he is a costermonger—the prosecutor was drunk, not to say helplessly drunk; he was very much excited.
The prisoner, received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, December 12th, 1871.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
EDWARD DAVIS . I am a tar maker, of Harlesden Green—on 25th October I was going along with my wife, and the prisoner came and looked me in the face—I said "What are you looking at me for?"—he made a grab at my watch chain, and ran down a court—I picked him out among six others at the station, three weeks afterwards—I have no doubt he is the man—he has the same coat and waistcoat on now.
Cross-examined. My wife is not here—she is very bad—she was looking in at a shop window—I had never seen the prisoner before—all this happened
in the course of two or three minutes—it was in Whitechapel—a great many people were passing and re-passing—I met a policeman, and he ran after the prisoner, but did not catch him—the prisoner has on the same fur waistcoat now—I did not describe his fur waistcoat to the policeman, but I did his coat and hat—I was too agitated to take notice of his waistcoat—my saying that it is the same is a little exaggeration and embellishment—I told the policeman he had a black coat, rather short—I did not give any other description of it—but I can swear to him among a thousand—I described his hat as rather a big sort of felt hat, turned up on each side, and that he was a man of dark complexion with a dark swarthy face—I am looking at him now—I said he was a man with no colour in his face, and rather brown—I did not say that he had got black eyes, or describe his tie—I did not tell my wife, going home, that I could not identify him—I said that I could—she was angry at my losing my watch, and gave me a curtain lecture that night, and said what an old fool I was—three weeks elapsed, and then a policeman came and told me that he had a man in custody who answered the description I gave—he was put among six others in the dock—they were common men—not more than two or three of them were policemen—they were dressed in fustian jackets—none of them were dressed like the prisoner—only one had a dark coat, and that was the prisoner—I live in the country and do not often come to Whitechapel—my wife did not say that it was no use her going to the station, as she could not identify the man, nor did she say that I could not identify him—she said that she knew that I could.
Re-examined. She was looking in at a linen draper's shop at the time the robbery took place—I have not the least doubt about the prisoner, because I had a good look at his face before he snatched my watch—it was daylight.
JAMES COWLEY (Policeman H). I took the prisoner on 17th November, at Bow Street Police Court—I told him I should take him on suspicion of stealing a watch and chain; that was in another case—going down in a cab he said "I hope you are not going to get it up for me?"—I said "What do you meant"—he said "Telling the prosecutor who I am, and how I am dressed"—I took him to the station, placed him with four or five costermongers and others, and the prosecutor picked him out without the slightest hesitation.—
NOT GUILTY .
See Fourth Court.
MESSRS. METCALFE and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. A. B. KELLEY the Defence.
ALEXANDER BUCKLER . I am one of the shorthand writers to this Court—I was present at the trial of William Benson here in November, and took notes of the evidence of David Sedford, who was called for the defence—I cannot identify the prisoner.
JOHN JAMES BAZIN . I am one of the ushers of this Court—I was present at the trial of William Benson, and administered the oath to the prisoner—The evidence given by the prisoner on the trial of Benson was here read—(See page 70 of the last Session).
JOHN THORNTON . I am a hawker, living at Red Hill, Surrey—on 21st October I was at Charlton; it was the fair-day—I went into the White Swan public-house, about 9.30, into the bar, and called for a half-pint of
beer—I stood against the table in the tap-room, and not two minutes after I saw the convict Benson—he must have been there when I went in, because, as I turned round, I was struck instantly—I did not speak to him, but as I turned to put my pot on the table I was struck on the lower part of my mouth with a heavy instrument, and knocked insensible; a hand would not do it—when I was conscious again I was being brought out of the police-station—my upper lip was torn, and I had a hole through here, and I could not use my teeth for five days after—I did not pull out any money before I was struck, nor was there any scramble for money—I did not strike anyone's arm to my knowledge—I did not knock any money out of Benson's hand—I did not knock him down, nor did we punch one another—after I received the blow from him I was insensible, and did not know where I was.
Cross-examined. There was not a scramble for money in my presence—I am sure it was 9.30—I was not there about 8.30—I know that, because we pack up our stall, and being a wet night we packed up earlier—there was a grate in the room and a fire—I did not know what had struck me when I recovered—I only knew I had been knocked down somehow—I did not know it was with a hook—a policeman took me to my wife and charged the prisoner with doing it with a hook.
ALFRED PEEBLES . I am a furniture-dealer, of 2, Miles Street, Trafalgar Road, Greenwich—on Saturday, 21st October, I was at the White Swan, Charlton, acting as waiter for a relation of mine, during the fair—this was the last day of the fair—Thornton, whom I knew by sight, came in a little before 9 o'clock, it might be ten minutes before the half-hour—I saw him standing against the table in the tap-room, with a pint or a half-pint of beer—Benson, a man with a wooden arm, and a hook screwed in, was there, with two or three others—he was pushed by his friends inside the door—I after-wards heard a scuffle, and found that Benson had got hold of Thornton, and forced his head upon the grate, and deliberately ran his hook into his mouth—he released him from holding him down, and Thornton turned round in a stooping position, with the hook in his mouth, halloaing "Murder!" "Take it out!"—I ran to the bar, and told Mr. Turner, who sent me for a policeman—I was absent two or three minutes, and when I came back I found Benson in custody, and Thornton up the yard, sitting on a form, bleeding—I know Henry Tull as a witness in the case—I cannot say whether he was in the room, because I was not there at the time it was done—there was no pushing the elbows or scrambling for money while I was there—Thornton struck no blow in my presence, and I did not hear any noise; in fact, it was quietly done altogether.
Cross-examined. They did not both come down on the grate—Thornton's head was down on the grate, and the hook was run into his mouth—it was deliberately done—Benson drew his arm back in this way, the same as I should do if I was going to punch anyone.
HENRY TULL . I am a labourer, of Woolwich—on the night of 21st October I was in the White Swan tap, and saw Benson there, and two or three men in his company—he was not sober—Thornton was sober enough—he was leaning against the table, with a half-pint of beer—he was there when I went in—they were doing nothing then, they were standing opposite one another—I went out at the back, came in again, and saw Benson up with his arm, and give Thornton a swipe across the face with his wooden arm, and then he got him down on the fire-place, and hooked him, forced
the hook into his mouth—he said nothing before he did that—there was no nudging of elbows or upsetting money on the floor while I was in the room—no blow was struck by the injured man.
Cross-examined. Benson had him close down when he drove the hook into his mouth—the man was then raised up, and a lot got round him—he was not quite down when the prisoner got his hook in his mouth—he did not fall quite down—I was examined at Benson's trial, and said that he drove the hook into Thornton's mouth before he fell, and dragged him by it with the hook in his lip—he dragged him to the fire-place—he did not knock him down with the back of his head on the fire-place—he did not close with him, but the man sang out "Murder!" and "Police!" and the police came and took them both away.
THOMAS FRANCIS (Policeman R R 26). I am stationed at Woolwich—I was on duty in Charlton village, and heard a disturbance at the White Swan, about 9.30—I went into the tap-room, and saw Thornton standing against the door, with his head bleeding, and somebody holding him up—Benson, who has a wooden arm, and a hook which screws in, was there, but I did not see the hook then—I told him I should take him in custody—he made no statement—I did not hear the story about money having been knocked out of someone's hand, and a scramble taking place, till Benson was tried last Session—I did not see Sedford at the White Swan at all, or at the Police Court—I know him by sight, about Charlton—I booked the charge at 9.30.
Cross-examined. There was a crowd, and I cannot undertake to say whether Sedford was in the room, or whether he was not.
Witness for the Defence.
JAMES KELLY . I am coachman to Major Cubitt, of Old Charlton—I was at this public-house at the time of the row—I cannot say what time I went there—I saw Sedford in the tap-room—the fair-field man struck the man with one arm, and the police were called in and took the man with one arm away—there was a scuffle at the fire-place—I saw money in the one-armed man's hand—I saw no money fall, and heard none, but young Sedford stepped forward and said "Put up your money, don't be foolish," and the other man said "This money is to be spent at the fair," and then the prosecutor struck him, and the two closed together, close against the fire-place—the man with one arm was tipsy—there was a scuffle before the door, and the policeman came in and said his throat was pulled out, or his mouth was pulled out—I saw him taken away—I did not go forward to help—I saw someone lift them up from the grate, but I cannot say who—the man with one arm crushed the other under bun in the fall, turned him under—I distinctly say that the first blow was given by Thornton—I did not see or hear money fall, but I saw both silver and copper in his hand—I did not see the hook on the man's arm, but I saw bright nails in the stump.
Cross-examined. He had the money in his other hand—he was fighting with both hands, with the stump, as well as with his hand, I have no doubt—I was leaning on the settle as you go in at the door, and the prisoner was next to me—I was next to the door, quite inside—I cannot say whether the door was shut or open when the blow was struck I was looking at the fire-place where the row took place—Thornton was standing against a table, a very short distance from the fire-place, when he struck the blow—I do not know what became of the money—I do not know
whether the waiter (Peebles) was there—I did not sec him or Tull either.
COURT. Q. Were there other people in the room? A. I can't say that there were, until the policemen were called in and took off the one-armed man—I don't know who took the other man away—I took my hook away as quick as I could—I don't know where Benson's hook went to—I never saw it, but I have seen him with it at the water-cart—he always wore it when he was working, but I had not seen him use it for a month—he is not a friend of mine—I have only seen him working at the water-carts—Sedford is not a friend of mine—I was not drinking with anybody—I went there to hear what I could, for the sake of amusement—I called for no drink—I saw Thornton standing at the fire-place, bleeding—I did not take the trouble to see what injury was done—I did not want to have anything to do with him—I did not come here last time, because I was employed about my master's business—I did not send a note, but my master did—Benson's mother came to me to ask me to come as a witness for him, but I would not.
Q. Then why did your master send up a note? A. He did it for the benefit of the one-armed man who he had seen at work—I do not know whether Sedford brought the note—Bedford's father came to me last night—do not know how he knew that I could prove anything in his son's favour, or how Benson's wife knew that I could prove something in his favour—I refused to come up to clear the man from trouble because I did not want to have anything to do with it.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH COE . I am single, and live at 76, Aubyn Street, Waterloo Road—I have lived with the prisoner six years up to the time this occurred—on 13th November I was with him in the Strand—I had been with him since 9 o'clock—we had had a glass of drink, and he was not sober—we had words about money affairs, and I said that I would not go home with him any more—Miss Olliver, a friend of mine, came up, and we all three went to the corner of Buckingham Street—the prisoner asked me to go home—I said I would not, and he stabbed me in my chest, back, and side—I was taken to the hospital, and am still there, though the wounds are healed.
Prisoner. Q. After I had the small-pox have not I always lost control of myself after taking intoxicating liquor, and not know what I am doing? A. Yes, you were intoxicated when you were with me, but I believe you knew what you were doing.
HENRY DENT (Policeman E R 7). On 13th November I saw the prisoner and prosecutrix quarelling in the Strand—the prisoner requested her to go home with him—she refused—he got hold of her arm, and she said "Do not pinch my arm, you have got all my money and keys, I won't go home with you"—he had been drinking, but he was perfectly capable of knowing what he was doing—Mary Olliver came up, and called them by name, and told them to come away—they went down Buckingham Street, and a few minutes afterwards I heard screams—I ran up, and the prosecutrix said she had been stabbed—I saw marks of blood on her—I took her to the hospital, and then went to Aubyn Street, and saw the prisoner standing at the door
of No. 75—the sergeant told him he wanted him for stabbing his wife—he did not answer then, but on Waterloo Bridge he said that he did not do it—he was violent the first part of the way, and said that he would not go.
MARY OLLIVER . I am single, and live at 112, Wardour Street, Soho—I know the prisoner—I saw them quarrelling in the Strand, and advised them to go away—we all three went together—they still kept having words us we walked along—I think they had each had a few glasses of drink—they could walk steadily—we all three stood at the corner of Duke Street—I advised them to go home—the prosecutrix said that she would not go home any more, and he struck her several times, but I did not see that he had a knife in his hand.
GEORGE FREDERICK SLACK . I am house-surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital—the prosecutrix was brought there on 13th November, with three wounds, one on her breast bone, one against her spine, and one in her right loin—the first two were superficial—the knife must have been directed straight—the third passed downwards, and slightly forward through the muscles of the loin—it was upwards of two inches deep, and was bleeding slightly—the wounds have healed, but she has not recovered her strength.
The prisoner put in a written defence, stating that he had not the slightest recollection of committing the act, that since having the small pox he had never been able to take spirituous liquors without losing his senses, and that when they quarrelled he no doubt stabbed her with his penknife, for which he was now deeply grieved.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. WHITHLEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM GUMMER . I am a harness maker, of 12, Dudley Street—on the night of 26th November I was coming up Queen Street, Seven Dials, between 10.30 and 11 o'clock—three persona who were coming down on the same side gave me a shove, and two of them seized me while the prisoner put his hands in my pockets, but there was nothing there—the others struck me, but whether with a kick or a 'blunt instrument I do not know, but my eye was damaged—I kept hold of the prisoner, and a policeman came and took him—the others ran away—I had drank a little, but I knew what I was about—I do not say that the prisoner struck the blow.
Prisoner. I picked you up, and you caught hold of me and said that I was one of them.
COURT. Q. How many public-houses had you been to? A. Only one—I had a quartern of rum there between three of us, but I had had some at home—altogether I daresay I had half-a-pint of gin, nothing else—I did have a little drop of beer in a house just opposite where they knocked me down, but that was not a public-house.
WILLIAM SOTHERN (Policeman E R 9). On 26th November I was on duty, and heard cries of "I have got you"—I went down Queen Street, and saw Gummer holding the prisoner, who was trying to get away from him into a doorway—Gummer said that he was concerned with two others in knocking him down and attempting to rob him—the prisoner mid "I saw
him knocked down, and I went to pick him up"—I took him to the station—the prosecutor walked to the station with his wife—he was not led—he knew what he was about.
Prisoner. Q. Have you enquired about my character? A. Yes—you have worked for some time at one of the cafes in the Haymarket, standing at the door to let the people know when the police are coming.
NOT GUILTY .
94. ELIZABETH DOOLEY (19), JAMES JOHNSON (18), CHARLES MORGAN (20), soldier, and ALFRED HIGGS (19), soldier, Robbery on Charles Merz, and stealing from his person 4l., his property; and LOUISA PRICE (18) , Feloniously aiding and assisting in the said robbery.
MR. WHITELEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD defended Higgs.
CHARLES MERZ . I am a waiter, of 68, Regent Street—on the night in question, at 1 o'clock, I was in Tottenham Court Road and met Dooley—she said would I stand something to drink, ginger beer or something—I said it was too late—she said she could get some close by where she lived—I went home with her—I don't know where it was, but it was in the direction of Long Acre—she asked me if I would mind going upstairs; it was a poor house, but she was an honest woman; and then she asked me if I would give her sixpence to fetch the ginger beer—I could not find a six-pence, and gave her a shilling, which I took out with other money, and she had the opportunity of seeing it—the moment she left to get the ginger beer another girl, who I believe was Price, came in and said that her friend would not be long—she stopped a few seconds, and down she went—three men then came up together—one was dressed as a soldier—Higgs and Morgan and the soldier said "Now pull your money out, we know you have lots of money," and at the same time gave me some blows on the chest and knocked me over on the bed—they all three put their hands in my pockets and took all they could find, four half-sovereigns from one pocket, and over 2l. from another—the door was left open a little, and I saw Dooley look in—Higgs had on a soldier's overcoat, not the uniform coat he has on now—they all ran down, and I called "Police!"—I met a policeman—at once went back with him—we saw some people standing there—I think it was the prisoners—we spoke to them, and they ran away—we followed and caught Morgan behind a doorway—I heard him drop some money—I gave a description of Higgs—I recognise all the prisoners by their faces except Price.
Cross-examined. I was sober—when I went into the room with the police Johnson was under the bed, I think, but I am not sure.
WILLIAM GREEN (Policeman E 60). I was on duty in Charles Street, Drury Lane, heard cries of "Police!" and saw the prosecutor—in consequence of what he said I looked under the archway as I was running, and saw the five prisoners trying to escape; they dispersed in different directions—I caught Morgan in a doorway and handed him over to Booker—I went upstairs after three men and Merz followed me—I saw Johnson and a girl under the bed, and Dooley was trying to get under when I went into the room—there was another woman under the bed who managed to get away, because I could only take' two down stairs—I am certain that Price or Dooley were under the arch, and I believe I saw Price go into the house—I cannot swear to her, because she was gone when I came back—I did not notice who Price ran away with from under the arch—I took Morgan about
1.30, and then Johnson and Dooley—later in the evening I went to one of four lodging houses in the neighbourhood of Charlton Street, and found Higgs and Price in bed—I told them they were concerned in the robbery, and they, would have to go with me to the station—I took Morgan and heard him drop some money on the road, it was a florin and twopence—I am certain the five prisoners were the persons under the archway—I noticed Higgs particularly, he had his uniform on, and a kind of dark coat over it.
Morgan. Q. How can you swear to me? A. By your face—there was a lamp over the archway.
Cross-examined. Higgs had uniform trousers, with a stripe down—I noticed his features—I know him well.
Re-examined. I took Morgan at the time—I caught him in a doorway, he had no time to change his uniform.
ROBERT BOOKER (Policeman E 382.) I received Morgan and Dooley from the last witness—I heard Morgan drop some money—I asked a brother constable to turn on his lamp, and he picked up a florin and twopence—as I took Dooley to the station she dropped sixpence, and I found 6s. 6d. in her hand.
Dooley. I did not drop the sixpence, the gentleman gave me 5s. 6d. in her hand.
Morgan. Q. Did not I say that the money I dropped belonged to me? A. No, you shifted your right hand into your pocket at the time I had hold of your left.
Dooley's Defence. He gave me 5s. 6d., and a shilling to get some ginger beer, and I never saw him any more till he locked me up.
Johnson's Defence. I never touched him, or did anything to him.
Morgan's Defence. I am not guilty. I was down stairs, and he said "I give this man in charge because he must be one of them."
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, 13th December, 1871.
Before Mr. Justice Mellor.
96. JAMES RYDER (12) , to feloniously setting fire to a stack of hay, the property of James Brewster— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] To be Whipped and sent to Feltham Reformatory for Three Years.
JOHN SMITH HODGKINSON (Police Inspector H). In consequence of a statement made to me, I caused the prisoner to be apprehended on Saturday, 2nd December, for violently assaulting his wife—he was taken to St. Bartholomew's Hospital by me and Cooper, who apprehended him about 9 o'clock in the evening—I took him to his wife's bedside—I knew her as his wife—she then made a statement—I first said to her "Do you 'know me?"—she said "I do"—I said "Do you know the others who are round your bed?"—she said "Yes, that is Dick"—I then said to her "Will you repeat what you told me this afternoon, so that your husband can hear it?"—she then made a statement, and I wrote it down as she said it.
COURT. Q. Did you think her in danger? A. No, I did not then—I
had previously gone to a Magistrate, in the afternoon, as soon as I heard of it, but as I could not give the requisite information I went on direct to the hospital—when I arrived there she was not considered in a dangerous state, but I considered it my duty to apprehend the prisoner—the Magistrate subsequently went, but the woman was then unconscious.
MR. GOODMAN. Q. What did she say when you said that to her? A. She then commenced to tell me what she had previously told me—I wrote down what she said on a piece of board, and the sister of the ward held a candle while I wrote on my knee, with my foot on the bed—she said "On Friday week last I was in the court, and asked my husband for some money, We had words; he called me bad names, and I called him. I had had a drop of drink. He struck me in the eye, and I came into the hospital on Tuesday last"—the prisoner then said to her "Now Jane, did not you tell me that you were ill last Friday week?"—she said "The blow was given three weeks ago, and last Friday week I told my husband that I was ill; he told me to go to bed. Dr. Champneys attended me on a parish order. Mrs. Patterson saw my husband strike me"—I asked her if she would sign this statement—she said "No, I can't, I don't want him locked up"—the prisoner said it was all false, he never struck her—on the way back to the station, in a cab, he said "It is a bad job"—I said "It is"—he said "I have never struck her since I had the three months"—he was charged at the police-station with violently assaulting her—he made no reply to the charge—the persons who were round the deceased's bed were the police constable, Mr. Archer the house-surgeon, and the sister of the ward.
COURT. Q. Why did you take him to the bedside of the woman? A. Because from what I heard I thought it was very likely to be a serious case, and I could ascertain no evidence that would justify me in charging the man and keeping him from Saturday night till Monday morning unless I had the statement of the woman to justify me in detaining him—I took him there to get the woman to make a statement in his presence, that I might give it in evidence—it was to identify the man, from what she had told me—I knew he was her husband—I wanted her to repeat in his presence the statement she had made to me, because I did not think I was justified in detaining him—I went first to the Magistrate, and by his direction I went to the hospital to see the woman—I did not take the prisoner there by his direction.
GEORGE COOPER (Detective Officer H). I apprehended the prisoner on Saturday, 2nd December, about 8 in the evening, for violently assaulting his wife—on the way to the station he said it was a bad job, it was all brought on through drink—he said that he had struck her many times, but not for the last two months—I took him to the station, and then to the hospital about 9 o'clock—he was taken to the bedside of his wife—I was present while she made a statement in his presence—the house surgeon, the sister of the ward, and Mr. Hodgkinson were also present—I don't know the exact words the inspector said to her before she made the statement—I was not near enough to the bed. (MR. JUSTICE MELLOR expressed considerable doubt whether a statement taken in the manner in which this was obtained could be looked upon as a voluntary statement; the presence of the inspector and the constable might have influenced the mind of the deceased, and he strongly condemned the course pursued by the inspector, however honest his intention might be. After consulting MR. JUSTICE GROVE, he was of opinion that the statement was not inadmissible; the mode in which it was obtained was matter for comment
but did not affect its admissibility). The statement was taken down in writing by the inspector at the time—I did not read it after he had written it—I heard it read in the presence of the prisoner and the deceased—it is an accurate representation of what was said.
Prisoner. It was not read to me. Witness. It was read at the foot of the bed, in his presence—she refused to sign it—the prisoner said it was all false—that was after it had been read—he was standing close to the bed at the time.
BOWATER JOHN VERNON . I am opthalmic surgeon at St. Bartholomew's—the deceased Jane Cox was brought in on Tuesday, 28th November—she was admitted on account of a swelling on the right side of her nose and round the right eye—there was no wound or bruise—she was taken to the opthalmic ward—she made a statement to me—an operation had to be performed—she did not appear to suffer from the effects of that—it relieved her very much—the signs of improvement continued for about three days—I think the operation was on Saturday, 2nd December, and she was taken very much worse on Monday evening, the 4th—inflammation of the brain set in—she had convulsions, and lost the use of her left side, and from that time she was more or less unconscious until her death on the 7th—I can in no way connect her getting worse with the operation—it was merely the opening of an abscess—I made a post-mortem examination on Friday, the 8th—I found the bridge of the nose on the right side was broken—the bone was broken in two or three pieces—I found extensive inflammation of the bones behind the nose—the bones of the right eye were in the same state of inflammation, and the whole of the right side of the brain was inflamed—I believe that had spread from the nose—in my judgment the cause of death was inflammation of the brain,' caused by the injury to her nose—that was my decided opinion—those injuries were most probably caused by a violent blow—I think it must have been a violent blow—I think a blow with a fist would produce that kind of injury—had she fallen upon anything she would probably have fallen with great weight and have cut the skin—the skin was not cut at all—I think one well-directed blow would have caused all the injuries—I should have expected an external wound if she had fallen upon anything, still more if it had been done with any instrument—on the left side of the base of the skull, when I removed the brain, I found a hard, bony tumour, about the size of a walnut, attached to the bones of the skull—I should think that was of some years' standing—the brain above that was quite healthy—it had nothing whatever to do with the cause of death—on the calf of the left leg were the scars of two ulcers of long standing—I connect them with the mischief in the skull, but they had nothing whatever to do with the cause of death—I don't think the blow on the nose was a very recent one, because there was no evidence of blood around the bone; no bruising, in fact—I should say it could hardly have been more than three or four weeks old—from what I saw of her in the hospital while she was alive, I think she must have been a woman of intemperate habits—that would go far to account for the severity of her symptoms—I should like to add that Inspector Hodgkinson did not come to the hospital until we communicated with him—I was not present at the bedside when the statement was taken—my house surgeon was.
ESTHER HOOKER . I live at No. 2, Wolverlcy Street, Bethnal Green Road—the deceased was my sister—I saw her on Saturday, 25th November, at her own house—she was in bed, very ill—I saw no bruises about her face,
but she appeared in very great agony—her ere was very much swollen, about the size of a small egg, and red—I took her to the hospital on the Tuesday following, the 28th.
CATHERINE DONOVAN . I live at 8, Union Court, Spitalfields, next door to the prisoner—I knew the deceased very well—I often saw her—I did not see any particular mark about her shortly before her death—I thought it was the erysipelas she had, because she had such a swelled face; that was on the Sunday as she went to the hospital on the Tuesday—she was then in bed, very ill indeed—she was very bad on the Friday, but she did some washing for me—I did not see her with a black eye, only a little bit so, at the side of her eye—I thought she had got a cold—I did see her with a black eye; that was on the same day that her face was swollen—I have not seen her husband strike her particularly—this time I never saw him strike her; no more he did—about four months ago he gave her on open-handed slap; that was all.
MRS. PATTERSON. I am the wife of Alfred Patterson, and live at 8, Union Court, in the same house as Mrs. Donovan—on 14th November I saw the prisoner hit his wife a slap on the face—it was on the left side of the cheek—it was against my door—it was with his open hand, I am positive of that—there was no mark then, nor yet for days afterwards—there was a very slight black eye on the Thursday following—that was not on the place where he hit her; on the other side of the face, the right side.
COURT. Q. Was it a severe blow? A. No, it did not even mark her face—a few words passed before he struck her—I did not hear her ask him for any money—she was intoxicated at the time, and she called him a very bad name—that was the only blow I know of—I saw her on the Sunday morning before she went to the hospital—she was then in bed, very ill—I noticed that her right eye was a little bit inflamed, the same eye where the black mark was.
ANN CONNOR . I am the wife of John Connor, and live at 7, Union Court, next door but one to the prisoner and his wife—about three weeks ago she had a slight black eye, not very much, that was a week before she went to the hospital, not the week she took bad, but the week before; it was the left eye; I am sure of that—I did not notice anything about the other eye at that time—she always used to have a very queer look about the eye—I believe she was under an operation for the right eye; it never looked like the other, it was rather a large eye—something was the matter with her eye always—I had known her four year, and all that time there has been something peculiar about her eye; she always looked very peculiar about her right eye—I never saw her husband strike her—I last saw her on the Saturday morning before she went to the hospital—she was in bed—I did not notice anything about her then, not till Sunday morning, then her eye was swelled—I took it for erysipelas—it was not so on the Saturday night—I saw her again on the Monday, and I went four times for the parish doctor—the swelling continued, and she went to the hospital on the Tuesday morning—I dressed her to go—I never saw any blackness of the right eye before she went to the hospital, or on her nose, or anything.
Prisoner. My wife went under an operation four or five times with one eye. Witness. I always heard that she had, before I knew her—during the four years I knew her I did not know of it, but when she had had a
drop of drink she was always curious about this eye—she always looked as if something had happened to her eye.
SARAH HANSHAW . I live at 5, New Street, Bishopegate—on Friday three weeks, about 7.30 in the evening, I was passing through Fashion Street, and the deceased called me—I saw bruises on the right side of her face, not bruises, but red, as if it had just been done—I did not notice anything the matter with that eye—there was a small black mark on the left eye, that was the last time I saw her—I don't know of any violence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WHITELEY conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT CHILDS (City Policeman 282). In the afternoon of 15th November I was in Bishopsgute Street, in company with Downes, another officer, and saw the three prisoners together—White was carrying an empty bag or sack—they went up Sun Street three-quarters of an hour later—I was with Downes when I again saw them coming down Cheapside, and going through the Poultry—Haggerty was walking in front, with a sack over his shoulder, and something in it—the other two were close behind—I took hold of Leary and White, and said "What has your companion got in the bag?"—White said "What companion? I have got no companion"—they then commenced to struggle, at the same time Downes took hold of Haggerty with the bag—I got assistance, and then took charge of Haggerty.
White. We were not with Haggerty; we were by our two selves, 200 yards behind him. We did not struggle, we kept still.
FREDERICK DOWNES (City Policeman 102). I was with Childs, and saw the three prisoners together, White carrying an empty sack like this under his arm—I was with Childs three quarters of an hour later, when I saw them again in Cheapside—Haggerty was three or four yards in front of the others, carrying the sack over his shoulder—I stopped him—the sack was opened at the station—it contained 101 yards of sateen cloth.
White also PLEADED GUILTY to a, preview conviction at Worthip Street Police Court, in December, 1870.
HAGGERTY** and WHITE**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
LEARY*— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES SMITH . I am foreman of Wrightson's warehouse, Tower Hill—on the morning of 1st December I saw the prisoner take two boxes from one of McNamara's vans, No. 115, and place them in another van alongside—he then shifted them into a sack, and placed a bog of chaff over them, beneath the dickey of the van—I saw him do this—I was in the third floor front—I saw the prisoner perfectly—he is the man.
DANIEL BRANDON . I am a carman in the service of Mr. McNamara—on the morning of 1st December, I had a van with a load of dry herrings, in boxes—I left my von on Tower Hill, opposite Wrightson's warehouse, and went with the boy to get my breakfast—the prisoner had a van loaded
with fresh herrings, in barrels, and I asked him to mind my van while I was gone—while I was in the coffee-shop he came to me in about twenty minutes, and asked me whether I had any of Lillen's boxes on—I told him "Yes," and he went back to the van—I followed him in about five minutes—he was then in his own van, with our foreman, and he said "Well, Brandon, God strike me dead if somebody has not done it for two boxes, while I came down to tell you about Lillen's boxes"—I looked, and missed two boxes—I afterwards saw them taken from a sack underneath the chaffbag in his van.
JOSEPH GOODSPEED . I am foreman to Mr. McNamara—on 1st December, in consequence of something that was told me, I found the prisoner on Tower Hill—I asked him what he had got on his van—he said "Thirteen or fourteen barrels of herrings"—I searched the van, and underneath a chaff-sack, on the seat, I found these two boxes of herrings—the prisoner said somebody must have put them there.
Prisoner. I know nothing about them.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MURRAY PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY RANDALL (City Policeman 168). About 10.45, on 6th December, I was in Brushfield Street, and saw the two prisoners and another man not in custody—they went into Bishopsgate Street—Murray walked to and fro the prosecutor's shop twice—the one not in custody opened a knife and gave it to him—Burgess at that time was standing in the centre of the road, where there was a hoarding—he was looking towards the shop—Murray then cut this pair of boots down from the shop door—they were hanging by a string—he put them under his arm, and ran down Skinner Street—the other two ran in opposite directions—I went after Murray, and took him into custody with the boots under his arm.
ROBERT CHILDS (City Policeman 282). I was with Randall, and saw the two prisoners and another man coming down Bishopsgate Street—Murray stole the boots—Burgess was in the middle of the road, looking up and down the street, and also looking at the shop to see if they were watched—after Murray had got the boots, Burgess went down Spital Square and through various turnings till he got to Commercial Street, the third man being with him the latter part of the time—they then separated—I went and took hold of Burgess—he said "What do you want me for?"—I said "For being concerned with another man in stealing a pair of boots just now"—he said "You have made a mistake; I have just come from my aunt's"—I said "I saw where you came from; I have not made any mistake."
Burgess's Defence. I know nothing about the boots—I was not in the middle of the road at all—I had just left my cousin when the constable took me.
BURGESS.— NOT GUILTY .
MURRAY also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction at this Court in June, 1871.— Two Years' Imprisonment.
101. WILLIAM ROBERT HANKIN (19), and WILLIAM AUSTIN (31) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of James Dowson, and stealing therein one scarf and other articles, his property, to which HANKIN PLEADED GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD defended Austin.
JAMES DOWSON . I live at 4, Champion Place, Upper Clapton—about 11.45, on the night of 1st December, I went to bed after seeing everything fastened safely up—about 2.15 a.m. I was aroused by the springing of a rattle—I opened my window, went down, and admitted Policeman 290—I accompanied him to the back garden—I saw the staircase window open as I went down, and the glass broken—it was closed when I went to bed—the parlour window had been closed with a catch—I found it wide open, and the parlour in confusion—the drawers had been pulled open, and left so—a large drawer which was supposed to contain plate was open, and the con-tents strewed about—I afterwards saw Hankin in custody, wearing a scarf of mine which I missed—these are my boots.
JOB LEWIS (Policeman N R 23). On 2nd December, about 2 a.m., I was at the back of Mr. Dawson's premises, and heard a sound as if a window was opened, or the catch going back—I made a communication to 290 N R as I saw a light fluttering about—we found that an entry had been made at a window, and found two pairs of boots on a wall, one pair is here, and Hankin has the other pair on, as he owned them—I sent 290 round, and as soon as he rang the bell the two prisoners opened the staircase window, breaking the bottom pane with their knees—they both came out on to the water tank, over the closet, but on seeing me they did not jump down where I was, but into the next garden—I had a wall to get over before I could pursue Austin, and he got over the next wall—Hankin was getting over the wall, and I knocked him down with a stick, and secured him—it was moonlight and starlight—Austin is the man—I described him to another constable, and saw him at the station about 4.45 with ten or twelve others and identified him—he had a moustache, but no whiskers, he was as he is now, only his coat was buttoned up—he had no hat, or shoes, or stockings—his coat was dark brown or black.
Cross-examined. I had never seen him before.
ARTHUR HAYES (Policeman N 297). On 2nd December, about 3.30 a.m., I was going to Austin's house, 3, Well Street, South Hackney, and met him as I went into the court—I asked him where he was going, he said "To work"—I said it is rather early to go to work, and I pulled off these whiskers which he was wearing, and said "These are false"—I searched him, and found a quantity of silent matches and a key—I then went to his house.
Cross-examined. Austin was sober—he lives about two miles from where the robbery occurred—he wore a deer stalker hat—I did not take it off previous to his identification.
Witnesses far Autlin.
Austin—I was at home on Friday night, 1st December, all night—I was awoke about 1.30, by Austin having a row with his wife—I did not hear what he was saying, but he was knocking her about, and I got out of bed to speak to him, but he made no answer.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. It was as late as that—my clock goes by the factory opposite—when I had just got off to sleep again I heard it again, and my landlady, Mrs. Black, spoke to him—Austin is my husband's sister's husband—I have been in the house six years—I did not know that he was in the habit of wearing artificial whiskers—it is not an uncommon thing for him to quarrel with his wife when he has had a drop of drink—that is pot very often.
COURT. Q. How often have you heard him quarrel with his wife before? A. Not very often—they do not fight very often, but they did so last week—I have not heard it before—I am out all day—Austin is a smith, I believe—I do not know where he works—I very seldom go into their room.
SUSAN BLANKS . I am a widow, and live at 3, Arthur Street—on Friday night, 2nd December, Austin was in the house—I did not see him, but I heard him come in at 12 or a quarter past—he made a great noise going up stairs, and about 1.15 I heard him making a great noise, and heard the baby cry, and I got out of bed and begged him to be quiet—I got into bed again, and heard somebody go down stairs about 2 o'clock—I called out "Who is that?"—he said "It is me," and I heard the street door shut—somebody went out.
Cross-examined. His wife took my rooms about a year and a half before he came to live with her—I have not been examined as a witness for him before—I am not related to him—I have never seen him wear whiskers—he came home and went out again about 2.30, as near as I can recollect the time.
Cross-examined. I have known him two or three months—we are not constant companions—I have been with him once now and then—I have been living at 21, Brook Street—I was not living anywhere in particular before that—I was sleeping where I could—I lodged at 3, Arthur Street one night; the night before—that is where Austin lives—this is my first offence—I have never been convicted before—I am quite sure of that—I never saw him with these whiskers.
COURT. Q. You are to tell the whole truth? A. Yes—I do not know the name of the man who was with me—we had been drinking in the afternoon, and he asked me to go with him, and said it would be a good thing—I had seen him before at a house he used, the Stag at Homerton—he was there nearly every evening in the course of the week—I do not know his name or address.
AUSTIN— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted at Clerkenwell, in November, 1857, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.** The officer stated that the produce of ten burglaries was found at Austin's premises.
Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, December 13th, 1871.
Before Mr. Justice Grove.
The HON. G. DENMAN, Q.C., with MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE GREENHAM (Police Sergeant). I know the premises 8, Wapping Wall. Mr. Tomkins' Sufferance Wharf—I made these two plans of the premisses—they are duplicates and are made on the same scale—there are two windows, they are four feet nine inches from the bottom of the windows to the ground—the wharf goes back towards the Thames—where is dows to the ground—wharf goes back towards the Thames—there is a gateway over the building where the cart stood—this part of the plan shows the position where the cart was—these are two grated windows, and there is the cart with the straw on it, and the warehouse was over it—this is on a large scale—the farthest window nearest the gate—I know corner of New Gravel Lane; that is the window nearest the gate—I know Boarding Entry, it is thirty-nine yards down Gravel Lane, the corner of Wapping Wall, on the left hand side, supposing you torn from the corner and go down Gravel Lane—that is the direction towards Shadwell Church where the fire escape is kept, which is a third of a mile from Wapping Wall.
COURT. Q. How did you ascertain the position of the cart? A. From the marks of the wheels in the ground—the cart was not there, it was burnt—a man on the wharf pointed out the wheel marks to me.
JOHN COOK . I live at 4, Wapping Wall, and am foreman to Mr. Tomkins, Sufferance Wharf—it was my business to close the wharf of a night, and I closed it on Tuesday night, 19th September, about 10.15—at that time a waggon load of straw was standing inside the warehouse gates, it might have been there five or six weeks—this plan points out the spot where it stood as nigh as I can tell—it stood about eighteen inches from the window—it was loose straw, and it was not covered over—everything was quite safe when I left, I lecked up the small door as I came out—I made the place safe, as I always do—I did not go to the premises again before the fire, no one went in after I locked up that night.
COURT. Q. Was there anything in the warehouse of a nature to set fire, any chemicals or lucifer boxes, or anything likely to set fire to it? A. The top loft was full of loose cane, but there was nothing in the bottom place but the straw.
SAMUEL FEATHAM (Policeman K). I was in Wapping Wall on the night of 19th and morning of 20th September—I passed No. 81 about 12.20 or 12.30, on the side of the road upon which Mr. Tomkins' windows are—I noticed no light or fire—it is part of my duty to keep a lock-out for anything of the sort—when I had got into Star Yard, which is 100 or 150 yards further, and which leads into Wapping Wall, I heard a cry of "Fire!"—I had got round a corner in Star Street, that is, not in New Gravel Lane direction, but the other way—I was then working back again—I had worked New Gravel Lane as far as the bridge, and through Star Street, which runs through the middle of my beat—I was working round into New Gravel Lane, after leaving the premises safe, and I worked round through Milk Yard on my right hand, and then Star Street is in the middle of milk Yard beat—I got into Wapping Wall, about the middle, and when I got back to No. 81 I saw the fire—it was burning very dull through the window when I first saw it—the premises above were not then alight—I sprang my rattle—less than a quarter of an hour elapsed from the time I passed and saw nothing wrong to the time I discovered the fire.
night of the fire, about 12.45 o'clock, I was standing at the top of Boarding Entry, with Ellei Duggan and Mary Driscoll, and saw the prisoner run round the corner of Wapping Wall into New Gravel Lane—he ran across the road and asked me what lane it was—I told him it was New Gravel Lane—he said "There is a b——large fire round by St. George's Wharf"—that is Tomkint' Wharf—he said no more to me, but ran up New Gravel Lane in the direction of Shadwell Church—I lost sight of him, and ran to the corner of Wapping Wall, and saw the fire descending from the bottom windows—I saw nobody at first, but I afterwards saw a policeman in a very few minutes, and heard him spring his rattle—I did not go up to the windows—I had passed the end of Wapping Wall about eight or nine minutes before—I saw the prisoner, and saw no signs of fire then, or anything to attract my attention—I have lived in that neighbourhood all my life—I had never seen the prisoner before that night—I saw him next at the Thames Police Court—other persons were with him—I picked him out and identified him—he is the man.
COURT. Q. You say that you saw the fire descending from the bottom window? A. Yes, coming through the window from the inside.
MARY DBISOOLL . I live at 4, Gould Street, Wapping, and work at a bottle warehouse—on the night of 19th September, I was standing with John Murphy and Ellen Duggan, at the corner of Boarding Entry, about twenty minutes to one in the morning, the prisoner came right across to us from Wapping Wall, and came up to us, and asked us what was the name of that turning—I said "What turning?"—he said "Right across there;" and I said "Wapping Wall"—he said that there was a fire broke out there—we all three ran up New Gravel Lane, to see where the fire was, and saw the flames coming right through the windows at the bottom part, and up to the flooring, I believe—I am quite sure the prisoner is the young man I saw—I never saw him before that night.
COURT. Q. Through the windows you say, and up to the flooring above; outside or in? A. Outside, and I saw the flames as if the upper part was burning, as it blazed up more it went through the flooring.
ELLEN DUGGAN . I live at 4, Love Court, Whitechapel, and am a servant—on the night of the fire I was with Murphy and Priscoll at the entrance of Boarding Entry—the prisoner came up and asked me the name of the turning—I said "Wapping Wall"—he said "There is a large fire broke out"—after saying that he ran up New Gravel Lane, towards Shadwell Church—I, Driscoll, and Murphy went towards the fire, and knocked the neighbours up—when we got into Wapping Wall, we saw the fire breaking out through the windows of the ground floor—it had begun to blaze freely then—I saw no one in Wapping Wall for a quarter of an hour—a policeman then came and sprung his rattle.
JAMES BILTON (Policeman K 196). On the night of 19th September, I was on duty, and saw the prisoner running out of New Gravel Lane into High Street, Shadwell, at 12.55, or 12.50, or 12.45—he did not speak to me, he ran towards the fire escape, towards Shadwell Church—some few minutes after, I saw the reflection of a fire at Wapping Wall, and saw the escape coming in the direction of the fire, and the prisoner and the escape man with it—Soperi was with me—we both went to the fire, where I saw the prisoner again, sitting on the tail of the escape—I was ordered by the sergeant to clear the mob, and told the prisoner to get further back—he said "I have called the escape"—I asked the fireman—he said "Yes," and
I allowed the prisoner to remain on the escape—I am quite tore he is the man.
COURT. Q. Where was it you saw the prisoner first? A. At the corner of New Gravel Lane, turning out of New Gravel Lane, into High Street, Shadwell, that is about a quarter of a mile from the corner of Wapping Wall, as near as I can judge.
WILLIAM PAOBURY . I am a fireman, belonging to the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—I live at the fire-station, in Broad Street, Ratcliffe—on 20th September, at 12.55, a.m., I was asleep in my box, near Shadwell Church, and the fire-escape was outside—the prisoner called me, and said that there was a fire down at the corner—he could not tell me where—he said "Round here"—I said "I don't want to be called to a chimney, I want to go to a fire"—he said "It is a big job; it is a large fire; it is a fire"—I said "All right, lend me a hand," and he did so—he and I went, with the escape, to the fire, to Sufferance Wharf—I remained there, with the escape, until the fire was out—I saw the prisoner sitting on the escape, and he was tried to be put off it—the policeman was appealed to, and the prisoner said "I am the man who called the escape"—I told the policeman he was the man, and he let him stay—the prisoner went back with me, and lent me a hand again—I then gave him 2s. 6d., and said "Come here, you will have to sign this receipt"—he said "I can't write; I can write my name, but I can't write my address"—I said "I will spell it for you"—he gave me his address "10, Gravel Lane"—I spelt it for him, and he wrote down "10, Gravel Lane," from my spelling—he wrote this "W. Anthony," Himself—he gave his name "William," But he only signed "W."—these other two names are the signatures of men who got a shilling each for assisting with the escape—the man who gets the first call gets 2s. 6d. and those who assist get a shilling (Receipt read)—I was afterwards taken to Long Acre, I believe to a house numbered "2"—Mr. Meechan took me there—he is foreman of the Salvage Corps—I saw the prisoner there, and said "That is the man that called me"—I said "I have got to give an account of the 4s. 6d., who I paid it to, and that he was the man I had given a half-crown to—he said "I don't know where it is,"Meaning Wapping Wall, which I had mentioned—he said "I am not the man that called you, and that he knew nothing about the half-crown"—this was at the door of No. 2—I did not hear his name mentioned—I then asked him for his address, but he did not give it—he said he could only write his name—Meechan was present.
ROBERT SIMMONDS . I am a bottle-stopper, of 43, Queen Street, Ratcliff—on the night of the fire at Tomkins' wharf, I was passing Shadwell Church, and assisted in getting the fire-escape to the place, the prisoner and I both went with the fire-escape to the fire and back again—and this man assisted us, but he did not come back—I never saw any more of him, the prisoner went back—I saw him pay 3s. 6d. and he gave a shilling to me—this is my signature on this paper, the other man was not there when I received my shilling.
WILLIAM WALLER (Policeman, K 113). On the morning of 20th September, about 12.55, I was on duty in Shadwell Church, about fourteen yards from the escape—I saw the prisoner running from Old or New Gravel Lane towards the escape—I ran across towards him, and asked him what was the matter, he said "There is a fire at Wapping"—I said "Where-abouts?"—he said "At a workshop near the gas-house"—there are gasworks close there—I saw the escape man aroused, and I went to get the fire:
engine—I saw the prisoner give the alarm—I spoke to him and have no doubt that he is the man.
RICHARD GATEHOUSE . I live at 20, Wellclose Square, and am foreman of the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—on 20th September, at 12.65 a.m., I was called to a fire at a warehouse in Wapping Wall—the time is always taken as soon as a call comes, the reward for calling the engine is a shilling, it is 2s. 6d. for the fire-escape if the man assists at the fire, but if he does not, he would only get a shilling—any assistant at the fire is paid a shilling—those fees are established by our own rules—I went down to the place with an engine, and found a waggon load of straw alight on the lower floor, and the whole of the upper floor alight, the whole warehouse, and fire coming out—the fire continued about an hour—every effort was made to put it out—I have been attached to the fire-brigade over twenty years—after the fire was out, I examined the premises, and formed the opinion that the fire began in the waggon load of straw on the ground floor, as the whole of the flooring immediately over where the waggon stood was entirely consumed, but the rest of the building was much less burnt.
THOMAS MEECHAN . I am foreman of the London Salvage Corps—on 26th September I accompanied Padbury to 2, Parker Street, Drury Lane—I had seen the prisoner there on 7th July when I received instructions from my superior officer to go there with reference to another fire—on that occasion he had been to Holborn Fire Station and I went with him to 2, Parker Street—I knocked at the door on the 26th, a young woman opened it, she went back and the prisoner came down—I said to him, "Did you call this young man (Padbury), to Wapping the other night"—he said "No, you must be mistaken"—I said "But he says you did"—he said "Oh, he must be mistaken, I have been laid up"—I said "What with?"—he said "With a sore throat"—I said "How long have you been laid up?"—he said "Since last Friday night"—I said "You were not laid up last Wednesday were you?"—he said "No, I was not laid up then"—I said "Well, the man said it was you"—he said "You must be mistaken, I don't know where Wapping is, I was never up there"—I said "No, but you have been down there, and you signed a receipt and got 2s. 6d. for it"—he made no answer—I told him that the young man had lost the receipt, and I brought him that he might point out the young man to me who had called him, or else he would lose the money that he had paid away—that was the last part of the conversation—I said it to disarm his suspicious—Padbury was in his fireman's uniform.
JOHN BOWSE (Police Inspector K.) I know Mr. Tomkins' premises where the fire was—I had noticed three or four squares of glass broken in the window on the right hand side of the gate, the first window going from the gate up Gravel Lane—three or four panes in my judgment were broken for I should say three weeks before the fire—I had looked through on several occasions.
EDWIN JOHN VIDLER . I am a hair dresser, of 10, New Gravel Lane, Shadwell—Wapping Wall runs into New Gravel Lane—there are two Gravel Lanes, Old and New—I have lived at 10, New Gravel Lane thirty-five years—the prisoner never lived there—I never had a lodger in my life, and never saw the prisoner in my life till I saw him for the purposes of this case.
COURT. Q. How far is Old Gravel Lane from New? A. About nine minutes' walk through King Street—I am in Old Gravel Lane every day—they
are both about the same length, 300 or 400 yards—there are houses and dock walls on each side.
MARY NEALE . I live at 12, Old Gravel Lane, Wapping—my son lives at No. 10, and I let it out in tenements—it is my property—my son has been there six years, and I have been there twenty-three years—I lived four doors off for twenty-three years before I took those premises—I know all the people that lived at No. 10 in September; they paid me the rent—the prisoner never lived at No. 10; I never saw him till he was at the Thames Police Court.
WILLIAM KNIGHT (Police Sergeant A). I am also inspector of lodging-houses, that is part of my duty—I have known the prisoner about two years—when I first knew him he was living in a lodging-house in Chapel Yard, at the bottom of Drury Lane; from there he went, about March or April, 1870, to 3, Parker Street; he lived there a few months, and then moved io 2, Parker Street, where he lived till he was taken in custody; that is, I think, four miles and a half from Gravel Lane and Wapping Wall.
GEORGE CLARKE . I am an inspector of detective police at Scotland Yard—on 29th September, I received information about this fire at Wapping Wall, and next evening, Saturday, about 10 o'clock, I went with Meechan to the corner of Parker Street, near No. 2—Meechan pointed out the prisoner to me as one of two men, and I went up to him, and said "Anthony, I want to speak to you about some money you received for calling fires"—he said "What is it?"—I said "I will tell you directly," and I took him to the corner Of Long Acre—I then told him I was an inspector of police, and should arrest him on a charge of wilfully Betting fire to a Wharf in Wapping Wall, on the night of 19th September—he said "I know nothing about it; I never was there"—he repeated that several times, and I took him to King David Lane Station, and charged him with the offence—after the charge was entered, the inspector asked him if he could read or write—he said "No;" and then, after some hesitation, said "Only my name, I can write my name"—he did not write at the station, he was not asked to do so—he gave his name, William Anthony, 8, Parker Street, Drury Lane, and said he was a blacksmith.
Prisoner. I never mentioned writing my name—I said I could not read or write.
Witness. I am quite positive you said you could write your name.
CHARLES BRADLT . I belong to the London Salvage Corps—I recollect giving a half-crown in 1870 to a man who called the fire escape—he gave me this receipt (produced)—I cannot swear to the prisoner—I gave the man the receipt to sign his name on, and he signed it in my presence—the fire was in Bed Lion Street, Holborn—the man to whom I gave the half-crown was the man who signed the paper.
MR. DENMAN prepessed to compare like receipt for 2s. 6d. given by the prisoner respecting the fire at Red Lion Court, Hollton, with that given by him in the predicate, upon the authority of the Act. He referred to "Reg. v. Harres" (Foster and Finlayson's Beports, p. 342), a case of arson, where a precisely similar course woe adopted, and which cate cited that of "Reg. v. Dosset," in which like evidence was admitted. There wot also another com (not named), in which Mr. Justice Patteson admitted evidence of a prisoner's presence and demeanour at incendiary fires other than that for which he was upon his trial, and which were the subject of other indictments against him.
Mr. Justice Willes had ruled, in "Reg. v. Dosset," that other actt which go to explain the prisoner 't motive, if they are germane to the question, are admissible in evidence. In "Reg. v. Gearing" (18 Law Journal, p. 215), it toot held that evidence of the administration of poison to other pertont than the deceased, wot admittible, even though their death occurred after the death which wot the subject of the investigation, in order to show the prisoner't knowledge of the noxious effects of the drug he administered; that wot exceedingly like the pretent cote, because the prisoner, in taking these turns from time to time, must have done so with the same motive at he took the sum in this cote, and there was, therefore, very cogent evidence that the prisoner set fire to the premises at Wapping. Had the prisoner been defended by counsel, it might have been suggested that he had caused the fire accidentally; but they were in a condition to show that the prisoner, on multitudes of occations before, had been pretent when firet broke out, and went to the station and got 2s. 6d. for doing so; that supplied a motive, and was on that ground admissible. It also appeared upon the depositions, and therefore the prisoner had had the fullest notice of it.
THE COURT enquired whether there was any case where the principal act for which the prisoner was indicted, wot only sought to be proved by circumstantial evidence, tending to fix him with the act, at that appeared to be the cote here? MR. DENMAN again referred to "Reg. v. Dossett," where, at in this case, it was a matter of circumstantial evidence; also to "Reg. v. Regan" (4 Cox's Criminal Cases, p. 315), where the prisoner was indicted for setting fire to a building for no other purpose than that of obtaining a reward, and where similar evidence to that proposed to be given wot admitted, although there was no more evidence than existed in the present cote. The Prosecution only proposed to give evidence as to the prisoner claiming rewards for giving information of fires, to show that he had a motive for the act. MR. POLAND referred to the evidence in "Reg. v. Bond" (Central Criminal Court Sessions' Papers, vol. 66, p. 299, and contended that evidence of the receipt of money by the prisoner in other cases showed a motive, at the prisoner did the thing systematically, knowing that he could thus obtain sums of money. The Prosecution were alto entitled to put it thus, namely, that the two questions to be determined were, "Was the fire wilful?" and "Did the prisoner cause it?" The fact that he was the first person to give information of a number of other firet in different parts of London away from hit own residence, wot evidence to show that this was not an accidental fire, at in a cote of unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin, other utterings were allowed to be given in evidence.
MR. JUSTICE GROVE had no doubt about the admistibility; it was a mere question of the degree of evidence. If there wot evidence to go to the Jury of the handwriting, then, assuming that other fires had occurred in connexion with which the writing of the receipt appeared to be the same, it would be admittible within the limits mentioned by Mr. Denman, the ground being that there was tome evidence, it was not necessary to say how much, to go to the Jury, of the prisoner being the man who, whether intentionally or accidentally, did set fire to the premises; it then became a reasonable ground of enquiry as to what was the prisoner's intention in committing the act, provided the Jury were satisfied that he had done to; and the Court would not shut out evidence, if that intent could only be proved by acts showing what was in the prisoner's mind; evidence could not be given of other actt of a similar nature, and the Jury be then called upon to assume that the prisoner, having committed similar guilty acts, was therefore guilty of this act; but on the ouettion of whether the fire was intentional or not, the evidence seemed to be admissible.
——POOLEY. I am a fireman belonging to the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—on 7th January this year I was in charge of a fire escape in Old Street Road, Shoreditch; the prisoner came to me about 4.50 a.m., and told me there was a fire just down in the street in Old Street Road, at a carpenter's shop—I went there, and he assisted me with the escape—smoke was coming from the windows, and I got some people out at the windows—after I had rescued them all, and the fire was put out, the prisoner returned with me—he did not ask me for anything, but I said if you will call in the evening when the officer is here, he will pay you; he then went away—he came again in the evening—the officer gave me 5s., and I handed it over to the prisoner—there is 2s. 6d. for calling the escape and 2s. 6d. extra if you rescue people—I had this receipt—I wrote this "William Anthony, 3, Golden Lane, St. Luke's"—I wrote that because he could not write it himself—he gave me that name and address, I did not know it in any other way—on 11th March, about 3 o'clock, he came to the same station and rang the fire bell—when I got to the door I found the prisoner there and another man with a van—the prisoner told me that there was a carpenter's shop alight in John Street, Curtain Road, Shoreditch—I went there with the escape—the prisoner assisted me, and afterwards helped me back with the escape—there was a fire there—I paid him a shilling, be claimed a half-crown, but I could not tell whether he or the other man had given the first information—I told him to call in the evening and see what the officer said, but he said he would not be bothered to call again—I made an entry on this memorandum, this "William Anthony, 7, Princes Street, Ropemaker's Street,"Is my writing—I entered that because he told me he could not write—on 5th April, between 4 and 5 o'clock, the prisoner came again to the same station, and told me there was a fire in Boot Street, about 100 yards from the station—I went there with the escape—there was a fire on the ground-floor—I got some people out of the house, and the prisoner assisted me back with the escape—he gave his address, John Smith, 7, Chapel Street, Whitecross Street, and was told to call in the evening, but he did not do so—I did not see him again till he was in custody—I saw him, with other persons, at the Thames Police Court, and recognised him—I have not the least doubt of his being the man—he stood in the cell, looking out at the door, and said "You have no occasion to open your mouth too wide, it will not be anything in your pocket."
Prisoner. I never said such a word, and I told them at Arbour Square that he was wrong. Witness. I am sure he used the expression I have mentioned—I saw him, and heard him—there was no other person charged with those fires except him.
CHARLES CHABOT . I have had a very long experience in considering the characteristics of handwriting—I have made it my study—I have looked at the signature "W. Anthony," to all these receipts—I believe there are thirteen of them—I have compared them with the one marked "A," and I have not the slightest doubt that they are in the same handwriting—there are letters and characteristics enough in each of them to enable me to speak of that without any doubt; the general character agrees in all, and there are points of detail (The attention of the witness was directed by THE COURT to several differences in the formation of tome of the letters.) I have observed those differences, and to the best of my belief there has been some intention to disguise the hand, bat persons do not always make the same kind of capital letters—I have not compared the admitted document with all the
others separately, but I have taken them collectively—there will be always little differences in a signature; but taking them all together, there are sufficient points of resemblance to convince me that they are written by the same person—I am perfectly satisfied that they are written by the same hand.
AQUILLA NEALE . I am a fireman of the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—on 8th December I was on duty with No. 20 B fire-escape, at the corner of Bow Street and Long Acre—I was called from there to a fire at 18, Parker Street, Drury Lane, by the prisoner—I can't say the time exactly—I had seen the prisoner several times passing by before this—he assisted me with the escape—I did not pay him anything that day—the next day he called at the Chandos Street Station for his money, and he received 2s. 6d.—I had told him to call there—I asked him if he would call, and he said "Yes"—I paid him, and I asked him to sign his name—he said he could not write, so I signed it for him—I believe he signed this receipt himself—he signed his name "William Anthony," and I wrote the address—I was thinking of another receipt that I wrote for him—the address of the receipt is No. 3, Parker Street, Drury Lane—I wrote that—he said he could not write—he told me the address, and I wrote it down, and then I paid him the 2s. 6d.—I have been called by him two or three times to fires since—I paid him money on those occasions—I think it was three or four; I can't say exactly unless I saw the receipts—the words "W. Antony" are not in my handwriting—he wrote them himself. (The receipt was put in and read.)
WILLIAM BATES . I am a fireman—on the morning of 21st March last, I was with my escape in the Kentish Town Road, about 2.30, the prisoner came to me and told me that a corn chandler's was alight in Chalk Farm Road—he showed me the way, and I went there with my escape—there was a fire there, behind the shop door—it was put out—the prisoner assisted me back with the escape—I paid him a half-crown, and he wrote this on the receipt "W. Antony, 7, Smith Street, Hampstead Road"—before I gave him the money, when I unlocked my box and put it down in the book, I said "Sign your name and address here"—he said "I can't write"—then I said "I shan't pay you without you go to the station,"With that he goes to the station—at last he said he could write his name; he could write if I spelt it.
GEORGE SMITH . I am also a fireman—on 2nd May, this year, about 2.30 in the morning, I was with my fire-escape in the Westminster Bridge Road, the prisoner came and told me there was a fire in Carlisle Mews, Carlisle Street—I asked him what he saw of it—he said it was some stables alight—I went there with my escape—the prisoner went with me and helped me—I found a fire there—I afterwards went back with the escape, and the prisoner helped me then—he wrote this signature "W. Antony" to this receipt, and I wrote the address "7, Chapel Place, Waterloo Road" he said he could not write the address—he gave me the address, and I wrote it—I paid him 2s. 6d.
THOMAS CHILDS . I am a turncock—on 2nd September last, I was called to a fire by the prisoner, in Jockey's Fields, at the back of Bedford Row—persons get 2s. 6d. for calling turncocks to a fire—I afterwards paid the prisoner 2s. 6d. for calling me—he signed this receipt—he did not sign the address—I wrote that "2, Parker Street, Drury Lane"—he gave that as his address—I wrote the name at the top, and he wrote his at the bottom.
by a police-constable—I saw the prisoner there—he came up about a minute after the constable had called me—he assisted me to the fire with the escape and back—I paid him 1s.—this is my signature to the receipt—there is also "William Anthony, 3 Baldwin's Gardens" On it—the prisoner gave that name and address—the constable wrote that in my presence when I paid the prisoner the shilling—the prisoner gave the name of William Anthony, I asked him his address, and he told me William Anthony, 3, Baldwin's Gardens—I asked him if he could write—he said he could not—the bottom signature was countersigned by me when I paid the money—on 7th February the prisoner called me to a fire in Aylesbury Street, Clerkenwell—he told me it was a shop alight—I went there with the escape—the prisoner went too—there was a fire in the front basement—it was put out by strangers and inmates—the prisoner assisted me back with the escape—I paid him 2s. 6d.—I sent him on a message during the time I was there, to Whitecross Street station—he gave me the name of George Brown—I think on 2nd April, this year, the prisoner came to me about 3.35 in the morning, and called me to a fire on Clerkenwell Green—it was a hay and straw place—I paid him a half-crown—on 20th June last I saw him again in Long Lane, Spitalfields—a Sadler's shop—he gave me information of the fire then—he said he saw smoke coming out of the fan-light and through the grating—he assisted me there and back with the escape, and I paid him a half-crown—he gave me the name of W. Anthony, 10, Fox Court, Gray's Inn Road—he wrote his name and I wrote the address.
Prisoner's Defence. I don't know anything at all about it. I am quite innocent of what they charge me with. I have had no time to get any witnesses. I have had no one come near me. I have been in custody three months.
GUILTY — Twelve Years' Penal Servitude.
There were several other indictments against the prisoner for like offences, and Inspector Clark stated that about 160 or 170 such cases had been submitted to him for inquiry.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, December 13th, 1871.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. BOTTOMLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
THOMAS PARRY . I am assistant to Messes. Gann, Jones & Co., outfitters, at 171, Fenchurch Street—on 28th September last the prisoner came to the shirt department, where I am employed, and gave me an order for goods, such as shirts, flannel, braces, and railway rugs, of the value of 23l. odd—before he gave the order I asked him who he was—he said he was Bellohambers, of Stowmarket—I knew that we had a customer of that name, and a credit customer—he did not pay for the good is at the time—he had a credit account—it was within my province to give credit, because he had previously had credit—if he had not I should not have given it to him without first consulting my employers—he directed the parcel to be sent to Hocking, Hitchcock & Co., of Gresham Street, as an enclosure—they were sent there, and were afterwards returned to us—we then
addressed the parcel to "Bellchambers, tailor and outfitter, Stowmarket," and sent it by the Great Eastern Railway—the prisoner called three or four days after giving the order of the 28th—he asked the reason his parcel had not been sent to Hocking, Hitchcock & Co.—I said "We did send it, and it was returned, and it had been sent to Stowmarket by luggage train, Great Eastern Railway—he said that was quite right, we were free from blame—I have seen some goods since, which are the things he bought of me.
Cross-examined. I should say he had been dealing six years with the firm on credit—he has always paid for his goods—there was not a shilling due at that tune, that I know of.
ROBERT CHATEY WESTON . I am the stationmaster at Stowmarket, on the Great Eastern Railway—I have known the prisoner between seven and eight years—he kept a tailor's shop in Stowmarket—he left the business on 1st March, and left Stowmarket at the commencement of April—his name was there before the 1st of March—it is not there now—it was painted out shortly after his successor took the business—the name of his successor was Fosdike—his name was put in the place where Bellchambers' name had been—I know Stowmarket very well—the prisoner has not been an inhabitant of Stowmarket since that time—he has been there, and stopped a night or two—he has not carried on business there to my knowledge—I knew he was going to leave before the 1st March—I heard him say he had sold his business—on 29th September a parcel of goods came directed to "Bellchambers, tailor, Stowmarket"—there is no other person of that name in Stowmarket—on the 1st October I received this post card, which is in the prisoner's handwriting—(Read: "30th September, 1871. To Mr. Weston, Stowmarket, Suffolk. Dear Sir. A parcel of goods has been sent on in mistake; return them to 126, Talbot Street, Notting Hill, as soon as possible, and oblige J. E. Bellchambers ")—The following day was Sunday, and we could not send the goods, and I received this post card the following day—(Read: "2nd October, 1871. Dear Sir. Did you get my poet card of Saturday? I hope so, as I want the goods sent to Stowmarket at once. Attend to this at once, if you have not already done so, as it is flannel, and I want them sent to 126, Talbot Street, Netting Hill, London, and oblige yours truly, J. E. Bellchambers")—I forwarded the parcel to the address given—I have not seen the prisoner since, till I saw him at the Court.
Cross-examined. I have known him in business, at Stowmarket, seven or eight years, ever since I have been there myself—I have heard that he has been there from seventeen to eighteen years—it was a good business—he had a very good character up to the time he left.
SAMUEL ROST . I am cashier to Messrs. Gann, Jones & Co.—in September last the prisoner purchased goods amounting to 20l. odd, and a draft was drawn by us on him—this is it—is is a three months' bill from 1st November—it was sent to Stowmarket, and came back accepted "J. E. Bellchambers, payable at Barclay & Co.'s.,"In the prisoner's handwriting—it has not been paid—it is not due yet—the last transaction before the end of September was about two years ago.
Cross-examined. The terms were one month's credit and three months' bill—he had generally paid by cheque.
he came and gave an order for 18 1/2 yards of cloth and six scarves—the value of that parcel was 4l. odd—he did not pay for them—he took them away—he gave another order for cloth at the same time, which he directed to be sent to the cloak-room, at the Great Eastern Station, Shoreditch, before 4 o'clock the following day—he told me they were to be addressed to "Bellchambers, of Stowmarket"—I supplied him with the goods without receiving payment, having done business with him before as a tailor at Stowmarket—the second lot of goods were not sent, as we received this letter—(Read: "Should you not have sent off the goods I ordered, do not do so, as my friend is delayed in town, and will see you on Wednesday morning, about 10 o'clock, or perhaps on Monday, should I get to London")—that is signed by Bellchambers—the orders that he gave to me to send those goods were for a friend who was going down to Stowmarket, and he would take the goods with him.
Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner from the previous transaction in September, as a person who had credit at our shop—I gave him the goods at once, knowing that he had credit, and that he had dealt there for eight or nine years—there were a great number of transactions some time previously, I believe, but not with my department—I only know of this one transaction of my own knowledge.
FREDERICK PEARCE . I am an accountant, at 2, Princes Street, Ipswich—I have known the prisoner eight or nine years, as a tailor and draper—at Stowmarket—I went to Liverpool for the purpose of identifying him—I tapped him on the shoulder, and be came and spoke to me—on the journey from Liverpool to London I asked him how long he had left Stow-market, and he said about five or six months—he said that he had parted with his business to Mr. Fosdike—he did not say what he was doing then.
Cross-examined. He always bore a very good character in the neighbourhood.
JOHN SPITTLE (Detective Sergeant). The prisoner was apprehended by the Liverpool police on 24th November, through a communication made to them—I saw him at the police-station there—I said "I am a police officer from London; I hold a warrant for your apprehension on a charge of obtaining goods by false pretences"—I handed him the warrant, and he read it—he said "False pretences! we shall see about that"—I said "Is any of Messrs. Gann, Jones & Co.'s property in your cases that are at the police station?"—he said there were some braces in one—the packages have since been examined by two of Messrs. Gann, Jones & Co.'s assistants, and they have selected some braces, amongst other things—this is a list of all the goods, and those ticked are the ones which have been selected—the gentleman is here who selected them—I brought the prisoner to London the same day—he said "I don't understand what they mean by false pretences"—I said "By representing when you purchased the goods that you carried on business at Stowmarket, and such was not the case"—he said "I have left for six months, and I thought it was generally known; I suppose I was tired of telling people"—the case in which the braces were found was addressed "E. Jones, Passenger, New York, per Denmark"—I found some labels of the same character in a pocket-book which was delivered to me at the Liverpool police-station as the prisoner's property—he said he was going to America, to his son.
Cross-examined. I don't recollect that he said his son was very ill, and he had just had a letter to say so—he might have said so, but I don't recollect it.
FREDERICK PEARCE (re-examined). I did not see the goods selected—I saw the cases on board the tender, which was conveying them to the ship Denmark—I asked the prisoner how many cases he had got, and he said "Only one small box"—I asked him what name he was travelling in—he said "Jones"—four cases were brought back with the name of "Jones" upon them, and the prisoner said they were his—I went up with the prisoner and the detective to London—he said he was going to America to see his son, who had come 2,800 miles to meet him at New York—I did not hear anything about his being ill—I don't recollect him saying that he had had a letter saying that his son was ill.
THOMAS PARRY (re-examined). The ticks on this lilt are mine—I picked out the articles from the four cases, and marked them on the list—there are twelve items ticked—they are the goods I sold on 28th September.
THOMAS JONES . I am a partner in the firm of Gann, Jones, & Co.—I did not know the prisoner till I made his acquaintance one day in November, when he came and bought the goods—some one said to me "Bellchambers is here"—I knew him by name, as having had dealings with us some two or three years ago—when we had travellers on the Eastern Counties they used to call at Stowmarket, and he was a customer at that time—we have withdrawn our travellers about two years.
MR. METCALFE submitted that there was no cote to ye to the Jury, at the prisoner did not say what he wanted the goods for, the hill which he had given was not due, and the Prosecution had failed to show that there wot nothing to meet it. THE COURT was of opinion that the evidence wot not sufficient.
NOT GUILTY .
104. EDWARD MURPHY (23), HENRY PEARCE (38) , Stealing four dead geese and eight dead fowls, the property of Joseph Young husband, the master of Murphy; and Pearce receiving the same. MURPHY PLEADED GUILTY .
GEORGE WESTWOOD (City Policeman 707). From instructions I received, I watched the prisoner Murphy, who was carman to Mr. Young-husband, on the 11th of November—I saw him arrive in Lime Street, Fenchurch Street, about 5.30, with a van and two hones—he unloaded in Lime Street and reloaded some empties at the same place—he started from there, and I followed him to Commercial Road, Lambeth—going down the Commercial Road, the boy who was with him took the reins, and Murphy went to the tail of the van—that was about 7 o'clock in the evening—I saw a man not in custody, come out of No. 45, Commercial Road, and come close to the van, and Murphy handed a sack to him; the man went into the house and the door was shut—the van never stopped while the sack was passed—I followed the van to Waterloo Bridge, up Stamford Street, and over Blackfriars Bridge, where I left it—on that day week, the 18th November, I watched the van again—Murphy was driving it in Lombard Street—there were a lot of packages on it—Osborne was with me—we watched him to Lime Street, where he stopped and unloaded—I saw him take something from a hamper which was in the van and throw it down in the bottom of the van—he then did the same thing again—I was not near enough to see what it was—we followed the van to Commercial Road, Lambeth; as it passed No. 45, Murphy looked up and whistled—the van did not stop, it went to the dry arch of Waterloo Bridge and stopped
there—the boy remained with the van the whole time—Murphy left the van—I don't know where he went to, as I continued watching the van—he came back and then left the van a second time, carrying this small sack, (produced) which appeared to be half full of something—he took the sack to 45, Commercial Road—Pearce was standing on the threshold of the door, looking out—they both, went into the house and shut the door—Osborne and I then went upstairs to the front room, top floor, where we saw Pearce and Murphy—Murphy was sitting down on a chair by the window—Pearce was on his Knees, packing some geese in this hamper—there were four geese and eight fowls in the room—I said to Pearce, "What about these things—he said "I don't know what about them"—I said "We are police officers, you will have to come with us and explain this"—he said "I can soon do that, it is the first time I have had anything of the sort"—they were taken to the police-station and charged—they made no reply—Pearce rented apartments at 45, Commercial Road.
WILLIAM WALKER . I am in the employment of Mr. Younghusband—on 18th November, I delivered some hampers of poultry to Mr. Howard, of Leadenhall Market—in consequence of what was said, I looked at one of the hampers, and found that the string had been cut—Mr. Howard's man opened the hamper, and there was a space for four fowls at one corner—I fetched Murphy, and showed him—he said there was every appearance of four having been taken out, but he did not know anything about it—I then delivered a package to Mr. Miller, a poulterer, of Leadenhall Market—that package was smashed in—I went to Mr. Miller for the purpose of borrowing a hamper to repack the package, so that the poultry should not be damaged—there were eighteen geese and four turkeys—I don't know how many there should have been—I could not say whether the package had been disturbed, because it was so broken.
THOMAS EWENS . I am van boy in the service of Mr. Younghusband—I live at 11, White Lion Place, Edgware Road—I am in the service now—I went out with Murphy to deliver goods and take care of the van—I was with him on 18th November, but not on the 11th—I remember passing down Commercial Road on the 18th—I don't know No. 45.
Cross-examined. I don't recollect whether it was raining, or what sort of a day it was.
JOHN SOPER . I am assistant to Mr. Samuel Henry Miller, 8, Leadenhall Market—on 18th November, we had a consignment of geese from Mr. Younghusband's carman—they came from Waterford, and were done up in a peculiar manner—I saw two of the geese at the Police Court—we ought to have had twenty, but we only received eighteen.
JAMES GROVE . I am servant to Ebenezer Howard, poulterer, Leadenhall Market—we had a consignment of fowls from Ireland—the cord of one of the packages had been cut, and instead of being tied with rope it had been tied with string—I afterwards saw some fowls which were done up in the same way as those we have received—there were four short of what we ought to have received.
WILLIAM OSBORNE (City Detective). I was with Westwood, and saw all that he has stated—after Pearce was apprehended, as we were going over Blackfriars Bridge, he said to me, "Can't you square us of this job?—he was under my charge at the police-station, and he said "Do you think I shall get more than twelve months for this?"—I said "I don't know"—on the way to the Mansion House, he said "I would not have had this job happen for 100l."
JOSEPH YOUNGHUSBAND . I am carrier to the Great Western Railway—I have heard the route which Murphy went from Lime Street; that is not his proper route—after he had left Leadenhall Market, he ought to have gone down Cornhill, Cheapside, over the Holborn Viaduct, up Oxford Street, to Paddington—there are printed directions in the office to that effect—the fowls and geese were under my care, and I am responsible to the Great Western Railway for them.
PEARCE received a good character.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. MURPHY— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BROMBY conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD STEPHEN MURRELL . I am a wine merchant, at 210 and 211, Piccadilly—on 9th August, the prisoner came and gave me an order for wine, which came to 13l. 2s. 10d. and which was to be sent to H. Dawe, Esq., Gothic Villa, Thames Ditton—in payment for the wine he gave me this cheque (Read: "7th August, 1871. Highden Steyning. Pay to Henry Dawe, Esq., or bearer, 25l. which place to my account. Messrs. Williams, Deacon & Co., Bankers, London. Charles Goring.")—I gave the prisoner the balance, 11l. 17s. 2d.—I presented the cheque next morning at Messrs. Williams, Deacon, and there was no account.
SAMUEL BURDETT PECK . I am in the employ of Mr. Murrell—I was at the office on 9th August—I saw the prisoner in the shop—I went purposely to look at him, as I did not like the transaction—I suppose he was there about twenty minutes—the cheque was presented at the counting-house, and the cashier would not change it—the young man who served him went to see Mr. Murrell, and Mr. Murrell said "Oh, Sir Charles Goring, it is all right," and then the cashier gave him the change.
SIR CHARLES GORING, BART . I live at Highden near Steyning—this cheque is not in my handwriting, nor signed by me—it is not a good imitation of my writing, and is not addressed to my bankers—I know nothing about it.
CHARLES BUTCHER (Detective Officer D). On 21st November, I went to Steyning, in Sussex, and took the prisoner into custody—I read the warrant to him and told him I was a police officer—he said it was a mistake altogether, he was not there, he was not even in England, and that he should be able to prove—he afterwards told me he was not in England from June till six weeks before he was taken.
Prisoner's Defence. This is a case of mistaken identity. I never was in the shop of Mr. Murrell, and the whole of the months of August and September I was in Normandy. I fully expected friends from Normandy on Saturday night to have been here as witnesses, but I am sorry to say they have not arrived.
GUILTY of uttering .— Judgment respited.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, December 13, 1871.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. R. K. PHILIPPS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS
ANDREW MAYERS . I am a cigar manufacturer, of 5, Wellclose Square—the prisoners are my apprentices—on the 23rd November I found my wine cellar broken open—it runs along the back kitchen, and the lower part is the side of the coal cellar—the part broken open was in the back kitchen, by the side of the coal cellar, and about three yards from the door—parties going through the kitchen would go to the aperture that was made—the boarding was knocked down—I think I saw that boarding the night before—I won't be certain—there were a lot of oases up against it—I missed a great deal of wine and brandy—I might have lost twelve or fourteen dozen of wine, perhaps more, worth 4s. a bottle—some broken bottles were lying in the coal cellar—from information I received I sent for a policeman, and gave four boys into custody—the two prisoners were locked up.
JACOB LEVY . I am apprenticed to the last witness—I know Nathan Delew—on the 23rd November I saw him in the Tenter Ground, Spitalfields, about three or four minutes' walk from my master's place—he said "When I get you to the shop I will give you something nice"—when I got to the shop I had a chopper given me to take down to the servant—I went down to the coal cellar, and he said "Jacob, drink"—he had half a bottle in his hand—I took a little drain in my mouth, and I spat it out—Moses Delew was there alto—he was drinking.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I can't tell what stuff it was I had to drink—I could not see—I drank out of a broken bottle—I have no notion whether it was wine or water, or what.
Re-examined. I don't know what sort of bottle it is they put wine in—I never saw a wine bottle—it was black.
BENJAMIN LEVY . I am a fellow apprentice of the prisoner's—on Thursday morning, the 23rd, I saw the prisoners go down to the kitchen—I called out to Nathan Delew, and he made no answer—I called again—he said "What is it you want?—I said "Where are you?"—he said "I am in the cellar"—after I had been there about five minutes he brought out a bottle, and said "Drink"—I said "I don't believe it is drink"—he said "If you don't drink first, I will"—I gave him the bottle, and went up stain—it was black, and like a wine bottle—I did not drink any, but I saw both of the prisoners drink.
Cross-examined. I know it was wine—they told me it was wine after they drank it—I knew it was my master's wine—they did not tell me whose it was—I saw where they got it from—I saw the boards were pulled down, and the prisoner in the coal cellar, with a light in one hand, but what he was doing with the other I cannot say.
Re-examined. I did not see him do anything with the boards—I saw the boards pulled down—I was looking on, but I did not know what he was doing.
WILLIAM SMITH (Policeman H 225). I took the prisoners into custody and charged them with stealing wine—Nathan said he received the bottle of wine from another boy, from which he drank, and Moses said he received the bottle of wine from his brother, from which he drank.
The prisoners received good, characters.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. THORN COLE the Defence.
GEORGE GARRETT . I am an oilman, living at 8, Queen's Street, Blackheath—about 6.50 one evening, about the 12th October, I was passing along Commercial Street—I saw two men loitering by the side of a music hall and "Sideling" round Pearl Street, and as I was going across the prisoner abruptly looked me in the face—I stared him in the face, and directly I did so he snatched my guard and locket, but left the watch in my pocket—I endeavoured to pursue him, but his companion threatened to knock my brains out, and said if I went down that street I should be killed—a policeman came up and made a little search for him, and I went to the station and reported the robbery—the music hall was lighted up at the time—there was a good strong light of gas, and I had a full opportunity of seeing the prisoner's face—when he had got my chain he stooped down with something in his hand—I gave a description of the man, as far as I possibly could—I was under great excitement at the time—I saw no more of the prisoner until some time in the month of November, when I was sent for to go to the police-station—I went into a room where there were seven or eight people, and I identified the prisoner—the guard and locket are worth about 2l.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I can't tell the date when I was taken to the police-station to identity the prisoner—it was November, I know—I had not seen the man who took my chain before the night I was robbed—I was not walking quickly past the music hall—I was on my way to Shoreditch—it is about thirty yards from the music hall to Pearl Street—my chain was taken about two minutes after I saw the two men sideling round Pearl Street—there were two or three other people passing—I think there were several men standing at the corner—it was about ten minutes after when I saw the policeman—it was not foggy, but clear—I gave the policeman a description of the man—I said he had a red handkerchief round his neck, that he was a loose, thief-looking man, and that he had a dark coat and a low-crowned felt hat on—I do not remember whether I described his features—the identification took place in the room where the charges are taken—the persons were placed in a row—I did not know any of them besides the prisoner—I do not know where they were brought from—I did not notice their clothes particularly, or whether they had policeman's trousers on—there were several policemen in different parts of the court—an officer stood beside me—he said "Mr. Garratt, is there a man there you know?"—I said "Yes"—I do not remember whether there were any working men amongst them.
Re-examined. I looked at the faces of them all—I had not the slightest doubt about the prisoner when I picked him out.
RICHARD MOORE (Policeman). I was present when Mr. Garrett identified the prisoner—I told the prisoner to place himself where he liked, amongst six others—they were not policemen—I had called them in from the street—no indication was given to Mr. Garrett—he pointed the prisoner out immediately—the charge was entered and read over to the prisoner, and he made no reply—everything was done as fairly as we could, in order that the prisoner might have a fair trial.
Cross-examined. Q. I did not get the men in from the street myself? A. They were called in by the officer Cowley—I have done that on several
occasions—most of them refuse to come in—the whole of these were working men—it was about 8.30.
The prisoner PLEADED GUILTY to having been previously Convicted of felony at this Court, on 29th February, 1864.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
HARRIET BATEMAN . I am barmaid at the Angel Tavern, Binfield Road, Clapham—on 20th November last, between 3 and 4 o'clock, I served the prisoner with a glass of ale, which came to 2d.—he gave me a shilling in payment—I bent it in the detector, and I told him it was bad—he said he was not aware of it—I gave it back, and he gave me a good one, and went away.
Prisoner. Q. I was not there at the time she states, I was coming from Croydon? A. I am sure he it the person—I saw him the same evening, at the police-station—I gave him sixpence and four penny pieces change.
WILLIAM DRING . I keep a chandler's shop, in Larkhall, Clapham—on 20th November I saw the prisoner coming out of the Angel—I went in, and in consequence of what was told me, I followed the prisoner up Paradise Road—I saw three other persons there, he had not time to join them—they seemed all of one gang—two of them turned to the left, the prisoner to the right, and the other followed me—I went round another way to the Clapham Road, and afterwards spoke to the landlord of the Gloucester Arms.
ADA ROSE STACEY . I am a barmaid at the Gloucester Arms, Larkhall Lane; that is about five minutes' walk from the Angel—on 20th November, between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came and asked for a glass of six ale which came to three half-pence, I served him and he gave me a bad florin—I tried it twice and then gave it to my father—it was bad—a constable was sent for and the prisoner was given into custody.
GEORGE HAYCOCK . I keep the Gloucester Arms—on 20th November I saw the prisoner at my bar—I saw him give a sovereign to last witness, she bit it and then handed it to me, I bent it between my finger and thumb and found it was bad—I then said to the prisoner "I have been warned against you, you are my prisoner"—I gave him in charge with the florin to the constable—he said he did not believe it was bad—the constable asked where he came from—he said "From Camberwell—he afterwards said bet had just come from Croydon, that he had been working at the Greyhound yard for two or three months; that on his way he met a man and changed the half-sovereign at a public-house.
CHARLES COMBES (Policeman W 229), The prisoner was given into my custody with the florin—he said "I was not aware it was bad; I have come from Croydon; I changed a half-sovereign on the road about five miles this side Croydon;" I asked him if he could tell me at what house—he said he could not—I found on him three half-crowns and a penny, good money—he at first said he had come from Camber well.
Prisoner's Defence. I am at work at Croydon. I got half-a-soverign
from the gentleman I was at work for, and started for London to look for work. I met a man I knew on the road who asked me to treat him and I changed the half-sovereign at a public-house, and got this florin among the change. I did not go into the first house, neither did I know the florin was bad.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
EMILY ELIZABETH LEAKE . I am the wife of William Hasleham Leake, tobacconist, of 4, Ckuroh Street, Lambeth—on Tuesday evening, 21st November, between 5.30 and 5.45, the prisoner came for a 1/2 oz. of common shag tobacco—I served him, it came to 1 1/2 d. he gave me a florin, I saw it was bad, and told him so—he said he did not know where he got it, he supposed he got it at the market in the morning; that he was a respectable man, and worked at Shepherd's, the greengrocer, in the Walk, but he had not been there that week—I put the florin on the counter—my husband came in and took it up, and gave him in custody with the florin.
WILLIAM HASLEHAM LEAKE . When I came in, my wife passed me the bad florin—I told the prisoner it was bad, and asked what he had to say for himself—he said he supposed he must have taken it at market—he asked me to give it him back, and he would give it to the party that might have given it to him, but I gave it to the policeman, and gave him in custody.
PATRICK FTNGLETON (Policeman L 166). The prisoner was given into my custody—he said he was a honest working chap, and worked at Shepherd's, the greengrocer, in Lambeth Walk—I inquired there, and found that he had worked there previously—he gave his address, 29, Francis Street, Vauxhall; that was correct—he was taken before a Magistrate next day, and discharged—Mr. Leake gave me this florin—the prisoner gave the name of Benjamin Hancock—I found two halfpence on him.
AXILLA WATKINS PENNY . My father is an oilman, at 224, Upper Kennington Lane, and keeps a post-office—on Tuesday afternoon, 28th November, the prisoner came in for 2s. 6d. worth of stamps, and gave me one shilling, two sixpences, and 6d. worth of halfpence in payment—he put the money on the counter, and before I had time to count it he took the stamps and turned towards the door—I had suspicions, and put the shilling in the detector, and found it bad—I called to him to come back, as there was a bad shilling; and he opened the door and ran away—I sent the shopman after him—the policeman brought him back—I said "What made you run away?"—he said "I did not hear you call"—I said "You must have heard me, because you were not out of the door"—he said nothing more—I gave the constable the bad shilling—the two sixpences were good.
CHARLES HOUGHTON (Policeman L 15). On the afternoon of 28th November, I saw the prisoner running in Vauxhall Gardens, about 200 yards from Mr. Penny's, and the shopman running after him, calling "Stop thief!"—! overtook him, and took him back to Mr. Penny's—Miss Penny gave me this shilling—he said he must have got it in the market—I found on him A good shilling and a halfpenny.
Prisoner's Defence. I went out in the morning with 2 1/2 d. in my pocket and a box of herrings, and this was the money I took. I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY .— Eight Months' Imprisonment.
MR. A. B. KELLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU
WILLIAMS defended Honesett.
MARY BUNYAN . I am barmaid at the Pineapple Tavern, St. George's Road—about 4.30 in the afternoon of 7th November, the two prisoners came into the bar together—Honeysett called for a pint of half-and-half—I served her—she gave me a shilling in payment and I gave her 10d. change—I put the shilling into the end till—Pilford then called for a half-quartern of gin and gave me a shilling—I gave him 9d. change—I put the shilling into the middle till, where there was no other shilling, only sixpences and fourpenny-pieces—they drank what they had called for and left the house together—I then looked in the end till and found three shillings there, the first I picked up was bad, and the shilling in the middle till was also bad—I gave them to Fordham the barman—the prisoners came back in a few minutes, and I said to them "You have been passing two bad shillings"—Honeysett said "I pass bad money, I don't know what you mean"—a constable was sent for—Honeysett said, she would fetch one, but we stopped her—Pilford had come to our house three weeks previously with a bad florin, which I refused to take.
Cross-examined. They were both in the same compartment—there was no one else in the house all the time they were there—it was between the lights.
JOSEPH FORDHAM . I am potman, at the Pineapple—I saw the prisoners there on 7th November, about 4.30—the barmaid told me in their presence that they had been passing bad money—I went to the bar and told them they ought to know better; that the male prisoner had tried to pass a bad florin previously—he made no reply—the woman said she did not know what we meant by passing bad money—the mistress came and said she should like them searched—I sent for a policeman in the mean-time, the female placed something in her mouth, what it was I can't say—the policeman tried to put his finger in her mouth to stop it, but he could not—I thought she would have choked over it, she appeared to me as if she was swallowing coin; I did not see any coin.
Cross-examined. The policeman put his finger in her mouth, and she said "If you do that again I will bite you."
GEORGE TRADGET (Policeman L 29). I was called to the Pineapple, and the prisoners were given into my custody—the potman handed me these two shillings, and said in their hearing that the woman had put something into her mouth—I put my finger into her mouth to make her vomit, and she bit my finger—she appeared to be swallowing something very hardfy—found on the male prisoner a good sixpence and 4d. in coppers—after they were placed in the cells at the station, I heard Honeysett call out "Charlie, are you going to split or crack? if so, you will lag me"—she then called again "Charlie, who swallowed the last piece of bread?"—they both gave false addresses.
Cross-examined. No one else heard this conversation hut me—I was in the next cell—I went there on purpose to hear what I could—they were in cells next to each other.
LOUISA WATKINS . I am the wife of George Watkms, of 6, Glyn Street, Vauxhall—on 20th September last Honeysett took a furnished room there—on 11th October she gave me a bad half-crown in payment for rent—I
found it was bad in the evening—I did not speak to her about it at the time—I did about a fortnight afterwards, when she showed me a bad sovereign, which she said her husband had taken for his work, and I should have to wait another fortnight for my rent—it was broken in three parts—she dropped one of the pieces, and I picked it up and gave it to my husband—I told her on that occasion that the last money she had given me was bad—she said I ought to have given it to her back again, and she could have taken it to where she took it—I had given it to my husband and he had taken it away with him, and I had not a chance of showing it to her—on 28th October she left—she said she would come back and pay me the rent and give up the keys, but she never returned—I did not see her again till she was in custody.
Cross-examined. She was lodging with me about three weeks—I saw the man she called her husband—they came in the name of Lewis—it was not Pilfold.
THOMAS HOLTON (Detective Officer L). I received this half-crown and piece of sovereign—I apprehended Honeysett—I told her I should charge her with uttering a half-crown to Mrs. Watkins, of 6, Glyn Street—she said it was not her—she was searched, but nothing found on her.
Pilfold's Statement before the Magistrate: "I am innocent; I was not there at the time; I had not seen this woman till last Tuesday week for four months."
Honeysett said nothing.
Pilfold's Defence. I have always been a hardworking chap. I have only had five situations in eleven years.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution; MR. HORACE BROWN defended Wells, and MR. GRIFFITHS defended Boobier.
WILLIAM JASPER . I am a corn-dealer, at York Road, Battersea—on the evening of 9th November Wells came to my shop for half a peck of Indian corn, which was 8d.—she gave me a sixpence and twopence—she tied the corn up in a handkerchief, and I watched her across the road to a cart—I had kept the sixpence in my hand—I put it to my mouth, and found it was bad directly—there was a man in the cart—the woman lifted the Indian com into the cart, and they appeared to be fumbling together—I then saw Wells go into Mrs. Porter's, the baker's, which is about thirty yards from my place—I spoke to a young man named Fry, who works at Mrs. Porter's, and I kept my eye on the man—he stopped in the cart till Wells came out of the baker's shop, and then she got up in the cart—I went and collared the horse, and said I should give them into custody for passing bad money—Fry was on one side of the horse, and I was on the other—I turned the horse round—Wells jumped out, and said "Oh dear, I was not aware of it, I was not aware it was bad"—I seized hold of her, and said I should give her into custody—I let go of the horse's head then
—I kept hold of her till a constable came, and I gave her in custody—she offered me a good shilling, but I refused to take it—I gave the sixpence to V 198—about two or three minutes after I seized Wells the man is the cart drove away—that was before the constable came—he drove off at full tear—I saw him in custody a few days afterwards—I am sure the prisoner is the same man—I can swear to his features.
Cross-examined by MR. BROWN. I had taken bad money before, and I was on my guard—I never saw the woman before that I know of, but my wife gave an exact description of her—she paid with sixpence and twopence.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. I had never seen Boobier before that night—I was looking at him some minutes whilst Wells was in the shop—I kept about three yards from him—the cart was about thirty yards from my shop—his face was towards me all the while—it was a fine little horse, and did not want much persuading—I mean by "fumbling" as if they were passing something to each other—Boobier was in the cart, and Wells was on the ground.
MARY PORTER . On 9th November I was in the baker's shop kept by my aunt at York Road, Battersea—about 7 o'clock Wells came in for a quart of linseed, which was 5d.—she gave me a sixpence, and I gave her a penny change—I put the sixpence in the till—there was no other there—directly after she left a person named Keep went to the till, and showed me a bad sixpence—he went to the shop door, and sent Fry out, and I afterwards saw Wells in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. BROWN. I should not have known it was bad if I had not been told—it was a good imitation.
ALFRED KEEP . I am foreman to Miss Porter—I saw Wells served, and I saw Miss Porter put the sixpence in the till—after Wells had left, Fry came in, and I went to the till, and took out a sixpence, which I found was bad, and gave to the Police-constable B 198—Fry went out, and the woman was brought back—I told her she had passed a bad sixpence, and she offered to change it for a good one—I saw the cart—Boobier was driving—as we were talking to Wells he whipped the horse, and drove away as fast as he could go.
Cross-examined by MR. BROWN, I heard her say she was not aware it was bad, and she would give a good one for it—she had other money.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. I only saw Boobier for a second, and I never saw him before—I have seen him at Wandsworth Police Court since.
Re-examined. I have not the least doubt that he is the man.
GEORGE FRY . I am in Miss Porter's service—Jasper made a communication to me, and I spoke to Keep, after I had seen Wells in the shop—I saw Boobier in the cart, opposite the shop—I saw Jasper at the horse's head—I was close to the shaft, and saw the man's face—Wells got out, and was going towards the shop with Mr. Jasper—he halloaed out "Stop the cart," and the old man drove away immediately.
Cross-examined by MR. BROWN. I did not see what was in the cart.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Mr. Jasper said he would give the woman in custody—he did not say so to the man—I did not hear anyone say they would lock the man up then—Jasper did not say it—I had never seen the man before—I was looking at him for two or three seconds.
ALFRED STACEY . I am a butcher, at York Road, Battersea—Jasper pointed Wells out to me, and Boobier, who was sitting in the cart—I saw Wells come out of Miss Porter's shop, and get into the cart—she got out
afterwards, and went to the shop again, and Boobier droye off—I am sure he is the man.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. I was looking at him about five minutes—I heard Jasper say "I shan't let you go; I will lock you up," and the old gentleman drove away as soon as he could—I ought to have kept him there—I had it in my power to do it.
JOHN DAVIS (Policeman V 198). I was on duty in York Road, about 6.45, and I saw a horse and cart going very quickly towards London—I attempted to stop it, but could not—the cart was 400 or 500 yards from Miss Porter's shop—Boobier was the man who was in the cart—I went to Miss Porter's, and found Wells detained there—she was charged with uttering two bad sixpences—she said "I did not know they were bad"—I then asked her if she had any more money in her possession—she said "If I had any smaller change I should not have tendered a sixpence"—she gave me her purse, containing two shillings, one sixpence, a threepenny piece, and 6d. in bronze, all good money—I asked her address, and she gave me "15, Hall Street, Clapham"—I took her to the station—I have made inquiries, but I can find no Hall Street at Clapham—I produce the two sixpences, which I received from Jasper and Keep—on 13th November I went to 114, Wyndham Street, Camberwell—I waited there till 12.30, and saw Boobier go in the back way—I went in by the front, ten minutes or a quarter of an hour afterwards, and found him in bed—I charged him with being concerned with Wells, now in custody, in passing two bad sixpences in the York Road—it was some few minutes before I could make him understand, as he was in liquor—he said "I would sooner go to the bottom of the Thames than go"—I found a horse and cart in the back yard; it was the same one that had passed me; and on the prisoner I found 3l. 2s. 10d., and a photograph of the female prisoner—he was wearing a brown coat over a white one—Wyndham Road, Camberwell, is about five or five and a half miles from York Road, Battersea.
Cross-examined by MR. BROWN. 3l. 2s. 10d. was what I found on the prisoner, and he gave a sovereign to his wife.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. When I saw the old man driving, I was so close that the wheel almost passed over me; some gent pulled me back, or I should have been run over—it was 6.45 on the evening of 9th November—it was getting dark, but there was plenty of gas where I was—I took particular notice of him, because I attempted to stop the horse as it came galloping past me—I was looking at the man and the horse too.
WILLIAM GADD (Police Sergeant V 8). I was present before the Magistrate when the male prisoner was in the dock—he was wearing a brown coat over a white one—he took off the brown coat and put it on the floor, and I took charge of it.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. I have inquired as to his character—I can find nothing against it, or that he has ever been in trouble.
Cross-examined by MR. BROWN. They arc very well made indeed.
Witnesses for Boobier.
THOMAS WINTER . I am a carpenter, and live at 114, Wyndham Road, Camberwell, where Boobier lives—out 9th November I saw him in bed at 2.30—I did not see him at all in the evening, but I heard him cough—he was in bed from the 5th November up to the 15th, with rheumatics—
I am certain he did not go out of the house that day—about two months ago Wells lodged there—I know it was 9th November, because I had to go to Mr. Squibuer's to look after a job.
Cross-examined. I am no relation of the prisoner's, only a lodger—he is a married man—he had rheumatics—no doctor attended him that I am aware of—no one else lives in the house besides him and his wife, and myself and my wife and child—it was on a Thursday that I am speaking of, when I saw him in bed at 2.30—I went into his bed-room—I did not see him the day after that, but I heard, him—I am out of work now, but I was not that week.
Re-examined. Wells did lodge there, but she left about two months ago—I saw Boobier at 2.30, and he could not have gone out without I saw him—I have a workshop at the back.
COURT. Q. Do you know his horse and cart? A. Yes, it did not go out that day—I swear that—the stable is about two yards from my workshop, and I should have heard it if it had gone out—neither Boobier or the horse and cart went out that day—he keeps fowls, and they are fed on Indian corn.
GEORGE BLOMONT . I live at 6, Webb Street, Walworth, and am an iron bedstead-maker—on 8th November I went to Boobier's, about 1 or 2 o'clock—he was in bed, with rheumatics—I went to see him again on the 9th (Lord Mayor's Day), about the same time—he was then in bed—I called again in the evening, between 9 and 9.30, and he was in bed still—I remember it, because it was Lord Mayor's Day.
Cross-examined. He keeps a pony and cart—I borrowed them, and took them out on the 8th, and On the 9th, too, between 1 and 2 o'clock in the day, and took them back between 9.30 or 10 o'clock—I was on the hawk, with my work—I sell iron bedsteads—I had the cart the day before, about the same time—there was no one there when I had the cart those two days, and no one went with me—Webb Street is about a mile from Wyndham Road—I am sure I am right about the date.
DOUGAL MCMILLAN . I am a bootmaker, at 21, Holliugton Street, Camberwell—on 8th November, about 7 o'clock in the evening, I called on Mr. Boobier, and found him in bed, suffering from rheumatics—I went to buy some pigeons—he told me to call again the next day, and I did so, about 7 or 7.30 in the evening—he was still in bed—I know it was the 9th, because it was Lord Mayor's Day—I remember better about the 8th, because it was my lodge, night, and I was going to pay my subscriptions, and the next day was Lord Mayor's Day, when I called again.
Cross-examined. I live about a quarter of a mile from the prisoner—I keep pigeons, and so does he—I went to buy some—I did not know he was in custody till I received a subpoena, which I have in my pocket now—I am a bootmaker, and work amongst omnibus men—I have never been in trouble myself, I am positive about that.
COURT. Q. When were you first called on to remember what time you had seen this man in bed? A. I think last Sunday week—Mr. Winter came to me on 3rd December, a few days after it happened—I knew from Mr. Winter that the prisoner had been taken up, but I did not know that it was for passing bad money—I knew he was out on bail—I went to buy some pigeons on Sunday, 3rd December, and they asked me if I recollected coming there on the 8th and 9th November—Winter told me there was a case on, but he did not tell me what it was.
Re-examined. I think I received the subpeena to come here last Thursday—I only knew the prisoner by being introduced by Winter, being told that he had some pigeons that would suit me, and I called to see him about them.
BOOBIER received a good character.— GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. WELLS— GUILTY .— Eight Months' Imprisonment.
ALFRND BARNES . I live at 175, New Kent Road—I am a tobacconist, and I also sell toys—on 8th November a man came into my shop and asked for some birdseye tobacco, and then he spoke about boot laces—he said he belonged to a school, and he wanted some boot laces for the school, and they must be got that day—I had not got any then, and he went away—after that an old man came with a van, of whom I ordered some toys—I asked him if he had boot laces, and I took a dozen and a half of his whipcord laces to try—he had not got the toys with him; he said he should be round again in three-quarters of an hour, and would bring the toys—after the old man had gone the prisoner came in, and I thinking he was the man told him I had the laces he was inquiring about—he said "Oh, have you, let me see them?"—he said he would take a dozen and see if they would do—he paid me for them—he said he would see if they were the sort that would be required at the school, and if it was he would come back and let me know whether he would have any more—he said he could get a good many orders if I would allow him a penny off every shilling, and I agreed to do so—he left, and in a short time he came back again with a young man, who he introduced as pupil teacher at the school—he then produced a written order for seventeen dozen whipcord laces, and eighteen dozen of a different kind—he told me several times that it was useless unless I executed it at once—I said the man I bought the others of would be back in a short time—the prisoner went out saying he would be back in an how and a half—about five minutes after the old man came in with the order I had given him—I showed him the paper, and told him I would take two gross of each—he only had one gross and nine dozen of the penny ones—I took them and two gross of the twopenny ones, and paid him 2l. 4s. for them—the prisoner never called for the laces and the old man never came again—I have the laces now; they are useless—when I found the young man did not come, I tried to sell them to someone in the trade, and they said they were worth 1s. 6d. a gross, and I had given 16s. for them—I don't understand them myself—I never had anything to do with them before—I met a man that same afternoon and gave him in charge—that was the same man I had seen in the shop in the morning—I took him to the station and he was discharged—I was quite mistaken—when I said before the Magistrate that it was the prisoner, I made a mistake—I apologised to the gentleman since I knew he was not the man who brought me the orders—I am quite sure that the prisoner is the man who ordered the laces; I have no doubt whatever.
Cross-examined. I had some doubt when I gave the other man in charge—I have no doubt now from seeing them together—I am positive now that Dennis Murphy was the man who came into the shop first—he owns
it—he was the man I gave into custody, and when I got to the Police Court, I swore that the prisoner Johnson was the man I had given into custody—an adjournment was asked for by Mr. Alsop, to see if they could find Murphy—I told the circumstances, and he was found through the charge sheet, by the solicitor for the defence, and on the next occasion he was stood by the side of the prisoner—I did not say that I did not know which was which—I said I had made a mistake—I found I had given the wrong man in charge—when I saw them together I was not doubtful which of the men I had given into custody—Murphy was called as a witness—I have received a writ—Dennis Murphy is going to bring an action against me for false imprisonment—I wrote to apologise that I had wrongfully given him in charge—I don't think I said I believed he was entirely innocent of the charge.
Re-examined. The writ was served by Mr. Alsop, the attorney for the prisoner to-day.
EDWARD WARD . I keep a general shop, at 2, Gloucester Terrace, Lower Wandsworth—on 29th September, last year, the prisoner came to my shop—he asked me about some pipes at first—he then looked round the shop, and said "I see you have got some boot laces"—I said "Yes"—he said "Have you got enough to supply me with this order?"—he produced an order for thirty-two dozen at 1s. 10d., and eighteen dozen at 11d. a dozen; eighteen dozen of leather at 1s. 10d., and fifteen dozen strong at 1s. 10d.—I said I would try and get the order, as a man had been in the morning with the laces—he left the order with me, and said he would call again at 2 o'clock—he said if I got the order it would save him having to walk where he was in the habit of going—about three-quarters or half an hour after he left, the man who had been in before with the laces came in again, and offered me the laces again, and I bought the quantity that the prisoner ordered, and paid the man 6l. and he went away—I did not see the prisoner again till three weeks ago to-morrow—he did not come back at 2 o'clock as he said he would—I have since ascertained that the laces are worth 15s. which I gave 6l. for—I was not a judge of laces—I recognised the prisoner as the man as he came through the door into the Police Court—I am quite positive he is the man, and I told the Magistrate so—he said he wanted the laces for a clog factory.
Cross-examined. I saw the newspaper report of the case first and I said to myself, "I will lose a day's work to see if that is the man"—I thought he was one of the firm and I went to see if I could identify him—I believe he walked into Court by himself—I did not notice that he was with a gentleman—I undertake to swear that I noticed the prisoner as he walked in the door, and I never recognised that gentleman (Mr. Alsop) until I saw him sitting down—I won't swear that he was not with him—I had only seen him for a minute or two when he came into my shop fifteen mouths ago—I never saw him again till I saw him at the Police Court, and I was very confident of him—I don't know whether Mr. Barnes was, I only speak for myself—I was asked by the solicitor to look round and see if I could see anyone who was like the prisoner—I saw Dennis Murphy and said "That man is something like him, but that is not the man that came into the shop—he was something like, but not quite the features of that man."
in the morning, the prisoner came in to sell some boot-laces—he asked me if I wanted any articles from his master, toys or laces—I said at first I did not want anything, and then I asked if he had some of his printed cards—he said he came from Mr. Harrison's, in the City—he said he was going to meet a friend of his, whom he hoped would have a card, and he would come back in half an hour and leave a card—he went away, and about ten minutes afterwards an old gentleman came in and asked for some boot-laces—he saw some hanging up, and said "Oh, yes, you have some"—he looked at them and said they were not nice ones, they were not the strongest sort—he broke one and bought one, which he paid a halfpenny for—he said they were not the sort he wanted, he wanted better laces—he went away, and came back again in about ten minutes, and brought a piece of lace to show me what sort he wanted—he then went away again—in about a quarter of an hour the prisoner came back—he said he had not got one of his cards then, but he hoped to get one soon—I showed him the lace the old man had brought, and said I wanted some like that—I said somebody had been in for laces—I bought three dozen of him similar to that lace, and I paid him 2s.—he said he would come back soon and bring one of his printed cards—very soon after he left the old man came back, and gave me a written order for eighteen dozen—I had some conversation with him, and he left—he said he hoped I should be able to get the laces in about an hour, because he wanted them—very soon after the prisoner came, with his horse and cart and another young man—he said he had not got the card, but he would write his address down—I showed him the order, and ordered laces from him to supply that order—he told me I had better have five gross, as it would be cheaper—he gave me a quantity of laces, which I supposed was five gross—when he left I found there was only three gross and a half—he made out two bills, one for four gross and the other for one gross—I saw him write them—he told me the laces would come to 3l. 8s.—I gave him 3l. 10s., and he went away without giving me the change—I gave him 3l. in gold and 10s. in silver by mistake—it was my mistake—I found it out afterwards, when I counted my money—he went away quickly—when I bought the laces he represented them to be leather laces—I asked him if they were leather, and he said they were strong leather laces—I afterwards enquired at a boot shop, and they said they were only painted string—I bought them believing they were leather—I believe the prisoner is the man, but he does not seem quite so tall as when he came into the shop—I also said that his whiskers were a little larger—I did not see him with his hat off, so I could not tell what forehead he had—he was in my shop a few minutes each time—I described the man to the police, and I was taken to the police-station to identify him.
Cross-examined. The first visit was about 11.30 in the day, and the second was before dinner time—it was all done in a very short time—they took me out of bed between 1 and 2 o'clock to identify him—the policeman said he believed he had got the man—he was put with two others—they were two dark men, and the prisoner is fair—I did not say they were dirty scavenger sort of men—what I said was read over to me by the Magistrate's clerk—I daresay I heard those words read by him—I might not have heard it when they read the paper over—Mr. Beckett called on me one evening—he told me the prisoner was a respectable man—I did not say I was very sorry, and would apologize if I was wrong—a friend of mine was in the shop, and she said she was quite certain if I was mistaken
I would apologise—I said "He is a little taller, and a little darker than the man that called on me/" and this young man's whiskers are longer than the man who called—the man who came signed both those receipts.
CHARLES DOBSON . I keep a general shop, at 3, Regency Square, Kennington Park Road—on 3rd November the prisoner came and asked for some whipcord laces—I said I had none—I had only been at the shop three days—a man named Sharpe had the shop before me—the prisoner said he was very much surprised that Mr. Sharpe had gone away—he called again in about half an hour, but in the interval someone else came in a trap, and I bought a gross and a half of laces, for which I paid 11s.—after that man had left, the prisoner came in—I told him I had got some laces—he said he would take six, which he did, he went away and came back again very soon and gave me a written order for eighteen dozen of laces at 2d., and eighteen dozen penny ones—he said if I could try and get them he would not get them anywhere else—soon after he had gone, the other man returned and I bought three gross of him, according to order, which was for whipcord laces—I paid the man 2l. 1s.—the prisoner never came for them, and I never saw him again till I saw him with Mr. Alsop in the Court—the laces are comparatively worthless—he brought the order already written—I am certain that it was 3rd November—I have good reasons for filing the day, and I have no doubt whatever that the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. I never saw him again till I saw him with Mr. Alsop—I read the newspaper before I saw the man, and I was convinced when I saw him at the Court—I did not make up my mind when I read the newspaper that he was the man—I said that after I read the newspaper report I felt convinced that the prisoner was connected with the man who defrauded me, but I could not swear that he was the man before I had seen him.
ANN THOMAS . I live at 276, New North Road, Islington—on Monday morning, 7th August, the prisoner came to my shop, and bought some beads—he went away, and came back again and asked me if I had any whipcord laces—I said I had not—he said he wanted fourteen dozen, and asked me if I could get any—he said "I will give eleven pence a dozen for the penny ones, five pence for the halfpenny ones, and I want six dozen of mohair, and I shall want eight times that quantity during the week; I shall want them in half an hour or three quarters, as the boys were waiting to lace the boots, for an order to go into the Union, of several hundred pairs"—I said I would try and get some—he went away—a man came in and I bought a quantity of laces of him, according to the order—I paid the man two guineas—he made out a bill in my presence—the prisoner did not return for the laces—I have found out that the ones I paid 8s. a gross are worth 2s., and what I paid 4s., are worth 1s.—the man who I say was the prisoner wag dressed differently to what he is now—I have not the slightest doubt that he is the man—I saw the case in the newspapers—I gave information on the Monday morning after the men had been to my shop—I saw the prisoner at the station and recognised him—he was alone when he came into the station.
Cross-examined. He walked through the station, and I knew he was the man that came to my shop—he was not, placed with a lot of other men—I
gave information the very day the men came to my shop—that was on Monday, 7th August—I can't say what time it was—it was before dinner, about 12.30 or 1 o'clock.
Witness for the Defence.
DENNIS MURPHY . I am a hairdresser, in the employ of Mr. Cassidy, 70, Walworth Road—I have been there three years—I was given into custody by Mr. Barnes—I was taken to the police-station, and he said I was the man—I was afterwards discharged—I know nothing whatever of the defendant—I had not seen him, to my knowledge, till I was taken to the Police Court to see him—Mr. Alsop came to me, and I went to the Police Court, and swore I was the man who was given into custody, and not this man—I went into Court with Mr. Alsop, and sat by his side all the time.
Cross-examined. I lived at 113, Bermondsey New Road—that is the address I gave at the station—I lodged there—I was in constant employment up to that time—at the time I was taken to the station I had been out of employment about three weeks—I have since gone back into Mr. Cassidy's employ—I have never seen the prisoner before, to my knowledge—I have not brought an action against Mr. Barnes, to my knowledge; it is a matter to be considered whether I do or not.
Re-examined. I saw Policeman D 10 at the station—when he saw the prisoner and myself together at the Police Court, he told the Magistrate he could not swear which it was he took into custody—I was remanded, and discharged.
RICHARD PETHER . I live at High Street, Clapham, with Mr. Neale, a butcher—I know the prisoner—on the morning of 10th November I was with my master's son, with a horse and van, near the Surrey Theatre, about 11.50—I saw the prisoner there, and we gave him a ride to the New Meat Market, Smithfield, where we arrived at 12.20—I put my master down at one end of the market, and went to where the horses and carts stand—I then went with the prisoner and had something to drink—he left me at I o'clock at the market.
Cross-examined. I was not spoken to by anyone—a policeman brought me a letter to appear the next Thursday—I can speak to the time by the Elephant and Castle clock—it was a Friday, and we were going a second time after the second load of meat—we always go twice on a Friday—I knew the prisoner well before—he called after me "Dick"—I pulled up and he jumped in behind the van.
Re-examined. It was the day after Lord Mayor's Day, and that is how I can recollect it—he was with me from 11.50 till 1 o'clock.
GEORGE NEALE . I am the son of a master butcher at High Street, Clapham—I have seen the prisoner about half-a-dozen times—I was with the last witness on 10th November, going to the New Meat Market—we met the prisoner about 11.50 and drove him there—we got thereabout 12.20—I left him about that time, and did not see him again.
Cross-examined. I am perfectly certain of the time, because I noticed the clock at the Alfred's Head, opposite the Elephant and Castle.
JANE HOXLEY . I am married, and live at Woodford—I know Mr. Beckett, the auctioneer, and also the prisoner—I recollect something about a sale of some houses—on Monday, the 7th August, I saw the prisoner down at Woodford—he called at my house about 10.30, or from that to 11—the first time he came we did not admit him, because we had not had
any particulars about the sale—he wished to go over the house—I told the cook not to admit him, and he went away—he came back half-an-hour afterwards, and said he had seen over the end villa—I asked him a few questions, and found he knew all about the place, and then I asked him into the dining-room—he was there about a quarter of an hour, and left about 12.30—I did not know anything of him before.
Cross-examined. I had never seen him before—I have not talked to a Mrs. Smith about this matter—I have not spoken to anyone—I had no notice at all till late on Saturday night.
Cross-examined. I am quite certain about the day, because it was the Monday before Mr. Hoxley went out of town, and he went on the 10th.
GEORGE BECKETT . I am an "auctioneer, at 157, Strand—the prisoner was in my service as assistant—he has to attend sales for me and I place great confidence in him—he clerks the sales—I sent him down to Woodford, on 7th August—he got up the particulars for the sale of which, this (produced) is a bill—he slept at my house the night before, in order that he might go from there to Woodford—he came back that day between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon.
Cross-examined. I have confidence in him in every respect—I give him a general good character—he has no father and mother, but his relations are respectable—I had a very good character with him—he was in my brother's service and I thought I could employ him—I have known him for some time—I had not more than, one sale at that time at Woodford—that sale was put off and actually took place on 17th August.
Re-examined. If he wanted money from me at any time he could have had it—he has been in my service seven years—I know his handwriting well—I have not got any of it here—the papers that have been produced are not his handwriting—he does not write a good hand—it isdistinct enough for general purposes, but not sufficient for the office—I called on Mrs. Campbell—she told me, in the presence of Mr. Lacy, a surveyor, that the detective called her out of bed at 2 o'clock in the morning, and took her to the station, where this man was put between two dirty scavengers; she knew neither of them could be the man, and she supposed the other was the man, she was very sorry if she had made a mistake, she would do anything in her power to apologise or remedy it; she had been unhappy since the morning, she had told her sister she did not think he was the man, for the man they charged was a little taller and a little darker—Mr. Lacy, who went with me, is here now—I shall be perfectly willing to take the prisoner into my employment the moment he is released—I have as much confidence in him as ever.
MR. BROWN. Q. Do you know a man named Holly? A. No, I can't say that the prisoner is acquainted with, a Mr. Holly.
WALTER RANDALL LACY . I am a surveyor—I was with Mr. Beckett at the time he mentions when he had the conversation with Mrs. Campbell—I have heard what he has said, and I confirm it—she said she felt sorry she had given the man in custody, because she did not think he was the man—I have not the slightest interest in this case.
Witness in reply.
case, and I apprehended the prisoner—I know nothing about the prisoner's general character, only the class of persons he has associated with.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. METCALFE and MOODY conducted the Protection; and
MR. STRAIGHT that Defence.
WILLIAM HOLMES . I live at 60, Webber Row—I am occasionally employed at the West Kent Wharf—on the 7th December I was found, by a policeman, carrying a bag of corn—I was taken into custody, and then before the Magistrate—I received that bag of corn from the potman at the Yorkshire Grey public-house—the prisoner sent me for it—he said "You are done an hour or two before me, go to the Yorkshire Grey and get a bundle for me, and take it home"—that was about 5.30 on the Thursday evening, down in the stokehole, at the wharf—Thomas Norman, the stoker, was there—up to that time I did not know anything about a bundle being at the Yorkshire Grey—when I was taken by the policeman I gave him the name of the prisoner, and when I was taken before the Magistrate he was sent for—he was put into the witness-box and gave evidence—(MR. STRAIGHT submitted that the Magistrate's Clerk ought to be catted to prove what was said by the prisoner. THE COMMISSIONER held that it was not necessary. MR. STRAIGHT then asked, before the witness gave any evidence as to what the prisoner said, that the charge that was being enquired into should be pressed. THE COMMISSIONER also held that this was not necessary.)—He said that what I had stated was "unfalse"—he took his oath on it—he did not say anything else—I was afterwards discharged.
DAVID LLOYD (Detective Officer M). On the 7th December, I and Kimber met the last witness carrying a bag containing corn, in the Borough Market—I called upon him to give me an account of it, which he did—in consequence of what he told me, I went to Wolsey's house—I saw him, and told him I was a police officer, and that I had come to ask him whether he had left any corn, or had sent anyone for any corn, or anything, to the Yorkshire Grey, in the Borough Market—he said no, he had not—I do not remember that I mentioned to him about having stopped Holmes—next morning Holmes was taken before the Magistrate, charged with having a bushel and a half of corn in his possession—I have the charge sheet here—he was charged with unlawful possession—the case was remanded for a few hours, to bring up Wolsey—when he came I saw him sworn—the Magistrate asked him if he had left any corn at the Yorkshire Grey, or if he had sent anyone, or Holmes, to the Yorkshire Grey, for corn or anything else—that was the question, as near as I can say—he denied it—the Magistrate asked him repeatedly if he had sent anyone, and he said no, he had not, on each occasion—ultimately the Magistrate dismissed the case against Holmes, and ordered Wolsey into custody.
Cross-examined. I have not preferred any charge against the prisoner for stealing the corn, or anything of that sort—there was a little over a bushel—it was not identified.
THOMAS NORMAN . I am a stoker, working with the prisoner—I remember the night Holmes was taken into custody—that afternoon Holmes came down into the stokehole where I and Wolsey were—I wanted Holmes to wait for me—he said "I am going home to have a Wash and my tea, and I will be
round there before you will be done—prisoner heard what he said, and he asked him to go round to; the Yorkshire Grey, to fetch a parcel—what it was I did not know—he did not say anything besides that—Holmes went away.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been in the same service as me about three months—when before the Magistrate I said "I do not know if he said the Yorkshire Grey or not"—I was sure he said so—we were standing close together—I speak the truth, and I cannot say any more.
Re-examined. I am quite sure he told him to fetch something from the Yorkshire Grey, and I am quite sure I said that before the Magistrate—I said It the second time—I did not say it the first time—I was friendly with the prisoner, and worked for him—he keeps poultry.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. You say you did not mention anything about the Yorkshire Grey upon the first hearing? A. Not the first time when he asked, but the second time I did—I was only examined once—I had heard Holmes say that the prisoner had sent him to the Yorkshire Grey—I was standing in the witness-box, and the gentleman asked me once, and I told him I did not know, and then he asked me again, and I told him so straight—I did not say so the first time, because I did not like to say anything against the man, because I was living in the house with him.
EDWARD PINCKNEY . I am landlord of the Yorkshire Grey public-house—I was present when Holmes came on the 7th December for something—by my direction my potman gave him something in a bag—I do not know what it was—that bag was left there by Wolsey, I believe; at all events, it was left with certain directions, and I made enquiry and gave it to Holmes, believing he corresponded with those directions.
RICHARD TAPLING . I am the potman—I know Wolsey by coming to the Yorkshire Grey—about 6.15 I was called into the bar—Holmes was there—I heard the name of Wolsey mentioned to the landlord—the land-lord gave me certain directions, and I brought a bag in front of the bar—Holmes put it on his shoulders and went out—I did not see what was in the bag—it might have been corn for what I know—I cannot say.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
115. DANIEL SAVAGE (23), DANIEL AMBROSE (27), and WILLIAM REGAN (28) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Stonehill Adams, with intent to steal; to which REGAN PLEADED GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRIFFITHS defended Savage.
GEORGE BASSETT (Policeman M 294). On 24th November, about 2.30 a.m., I was in High Street, Borough, and saw a man in Great Dover Street, in a Crossching or kneeling position in the centre of the pavement—I heard something fall, and went towards the man—he came across the road on seeing me coming—I stopped him, and asked him what he was doing there at that hour of the morning—it was Savage—he said he had been with some women—I had seen no women about—I searched him, and detained him until Mould came up, who called my attention to the cellar flap of the Swan Hotel, within two dozen yards of us—there were marks of its having been forced with some instrument—I took Savage to the station—on my
return I heard a rattle—I called for assistance, and found Mould kneeling on the cellar-flap, keeping it down against the efforts to escape of someone who was in the cellar—the flap was raised—I jumped into the cellar, followed by the sergeant—I found Ambrose, and took him in custody—I afterwards saw Regan taken in the cellar, by Mould—on Ambrose I found this large clasp knife, and a pair of new braces; and on Savage, a little money—I took them to the station, and returned with Inspector Mason.
Cross-examined. I was nearly 50 yards from Savage when I first saw him—it was so dark that I could not determine his position—I was in uniform—he came towards me—he told me he had been with some women, and intended to have some coffee—there is a coffee-stall there, and he asked me to have some—I walked towards the stall with him, not to have some coffee, but because I did not wish to have the responsibility of taking him in custody, as I found no house-breaking implements on him—the coffee-stall was not in the direction where Regan was afterwards found—I took Savage to the flap—he did not assist me in searching, but he assisted in trying to start off an area grating—he assisted me in searching the houses.
Ambrose. Q. Was I drunk? A. No, perfectly sober—you said you came there to look for a shilling.
THOMAS MOULD (Policeman M 297). About 2.30 on this morning I was in Great Dover Street, and saw the three prisoners—Regan was lying down and the other two got hold of him and pulled him on his legs—Ambrose and Savage pretended to be drunk as they came towards me—I fancied there was something wrong, went round my beat rather sharper than usual, and met them again in Napier Street, they were all sober then—I went round my beat again and met them in Kent Street, they were all sober then—when I came round again I found Bassett holding Savage in custody—I said that his two mates were not far off—Savage made no answer to that—I said "I will have a look down these areas," as I saw one of them lying down—when I got to the Swan Hotel I saw marks of a sort of jemmy on the cellar flap—Bassett took Savage to the station, and I remained to watch the flap—after a minute or two I saw a light in the cellar—I rang the bell to awake the people, the light was then put out, and someone came to the flap, and whispered, and raised it up—I knelt on it and sprung my rattle—No. 295 came, and afterwards Bassett, and a sergeant—he then raised the flap, Bassett got in and took Ambrose, and 295 took Regan.
WILLIAM THOMPSON (Policeman M 295). I heard a rattle springing at 2.45—went to the Swan and found Mould on the cellar flap, which was bobbing up and down as if someone was pushing it—I helped to hold it down till Bassett and the sergeant came—I then went down and found Regan behind tome barrels—he pushed a barrel on to me and it cut the lead pipe in the cellar; we had a struggle, and he swore he would knife me—I found some money on him.
WILLIAM MASON (Police Inspector M). I examined the cellar-flap, and found two marks apparently done with this jemmy (produced), which I found in the cellar, also this piece of candle, which had been recently alight, and these matches were in the sawdust—Ambrose said "I dropped a shilling down the cellar and went down to fetch it"—Regan said "I went down to assist him."
—on this night, about 12.30, I was the last person up—I saw all the doors and windows closed, and the wooden flap bolted—I have since seen it torn open, the cellar communicates with the house—I never saw this jemmy before.
Ambrose's Defence. I dropped a shilling down the cellar, and rung the bell to ask leave, but had no answer, and went down for it; it was found on me.
W. S. ADAMS (re-examined). I did not hear the bell ring till the policeman rang it—he rang it several times, but it was all the same ringing.
SAVAGE— GUILTY . AMBROSE— GUILTY .
They were further charged with former convictions. Savage, in 1866, at Newington, in the name of Thomas Hunter; and Ambrose, in September, 1865, in the name of William Sanders. They both
Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
Imprisoned One Day and Whipped.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 8TH JANUARY, 1872.