CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIFTH SESSION, HELD FEBRUARY 26TH, 1872.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS & SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, February 26th, 1872, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SILLS JOHN GIBBONS, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir WILLIAM FRY CHANNELL, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; THOMAS SIDNEY , Esq., THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., JOHN CARTER , Esq., ROBERT BESLEY , Esq., Sir SIDNEY HEDLEY WATERLOW , Knt., WILLIAM JAMES RICHMOND COTTON , Esq., THOMAS WHITE , 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.
FRANCIS WYATT TRUSCOTT, Esq., Alderman.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
GIBBONS, MAYOR. FIFTH 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, February 26th, 1872.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND and SAFFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
HARRIET BARRETT . I am the wife of William Barrett, and live at 3, Falcon Road, Battersea—in May, 1870, the prisoner took the house, 4, Orchard Place, of me—I let it to him weekly—I saw him there frequently afterwards—I don't remember the name he gave—I remember Mr. Brannan coming to me with other officers, between 1 and 2 o'clock on a Saturday—I don't remember the date—I had seen the prisoner there that morning between 10 and 11 o'clock—I never saw him after that—he did not give notice to leave—but he paid the rent up to that time.
Cross-examined. 4, Orchard Place is close to where I reside—it was in September, 1870, that a man named Taylor and some women were taken into custody there—I don't know that the prisoner had let part of the house to them—I did not know that Taylor was living there—the females now in custody paid the rent on one occasion.
ALFRED REDFERN . I now live at West Croydon—in September, 1870, I was living at 2, Mantua Street, Battersea—from that house I could see quite well into the back part of 4, Orchard Place—I know the prisoner by sight quite well—I have frequently seen him at No. 4, in all parts of the house—I have seen him in the back parlour—I have seen him there with a ladle on the fire, melting something in it, and pouring it out into what I have since found to be a plaster of Paris mould, and I have seen it turned out of that and put into a kind of basin—by the sound I could not. see what it was—I have seen this several times—at all times—at no time in particular—there were other persons in the room at the time, sometimes
four or five, sometimes six or seven men and women together—I was present here in October, 1870, and saw Alfred Taylor and his wife, Mrs. Copeland and a young girl, named Mattock, tried—I had seen those persons in the back parlour when the prisoner has been there, and when the melting was going on—I remember the seizure on 17th September—I had seen the melting going on a day or two previous to that—I could see into the room perfectly well, it was only about the distance that I am from the dock.
Cross-examined. The back of my house abutted on the back of theirs—I did not see this from a window, but from my back yard, standing on my dust-hole—I work at home as a tailor—this was principally going on at night time—the blinds used to be down as far as the top of the curtain—that went across the bottom of the window—there was a very brilliant fire in the room and a candle—I could not see all over the room—I swore to the girl Mattock at her trial—she was acquitted—I could identify the prisoner if I had not seen him for seven years—I have seen him frequently in the street and in the back yard, besides in the room—I saw him in the room through the space at the top of the curtain, there was five or six inches space, it might be more at times, and less at times—it was about a month or six weeks after he took the house that I began to see this—I watched it on several occasions—I daresay twelve or fourteen times—I thought there was something wrong—I did not tell the police because I was not sure.
Re-examined. After the seizure, I communicated with the police—I was examined at the trial of the four persons, three were convicted, the young girl, Mattock, was acquitted—I saw nothing more of the prisoner after the seizure until I saw him in custody.
EDWARD WARD . I am a carpenter—in September, 1870, I lived at 2, Mantua Street, Battersea—I know the prisoner—I have seen him at No. 4, Orchard Street—my house is at the back at that house—they are very close together—you can very nearly reach—the back additions are very small—there is only four or five yards between the two—I have seen the prisoner in the back parlour from my yard, and from a window, in the morning and in the evening as well, at all times of the day—I could not say what he was doing—I have seen him at the fire, and several others round the table, at times; mostly the first thing in the morning—I could not see what they were doing—there was a ladle, or something of that description on the fire.
HENRY STIRLING (Policeman V 71). I know the prisoner—in 1870 I frequently saw him at 4, Orchard Place, for nearly three months, pretty well daily, up to the time of the seizure—I have seen him with the persons who were tried here in October, 1870—on 11th July, 1870, I saw him and the three women, in Falcon Lane, Battersea, and watched them in to the Queen Victoria, where a bad half-crown was passed by the woman Copeland—it was produced at the trial, and is here now—I did not see the prisoner after the seizure until he was in custody.
FANNY THOMPSON . I am barmaid at the Queen Victoria, Falcon Lane, Battersea—in July 1870, the prisoners, who were convicted here in October, 1870, were at that house, and after they left the last witness came in and I gave him a bad half-crown which I had just taken from them—I have seen the prisoner somewhere; but I can't say whether he was with them or not.
afternoon, I went, with other officers, to 4, Orchard Place, Battersea—I went into the first floor back room, and there found Alfred Taylor, Jane Copeland, Sarah Ann Taylor, and Emily Mattock—they were taken into custody—we searched the room, and found some plaster of Paris moulds, with a coin in them, so hot that you could not hold them, and all the necessary implements for making and colouring counterfeit coin—I produce them—here is a double mould for half-crowns; that was broken in the struggle between the woman Taylor and I—here is also a single mould for half-crowns, a galvanic battery, bottles containing acid, and everything necessary—on Alfred Taylor were found the two pattern good half-crowns from which the moulds were made—I have known the prisoners for some time—after the seizure I was not able to find him till 25th January, in the present year, when I found him in bed, at No. 8, Andover Road, Hornsey Road, and took him on another charge, for employing a boy, who is awaiting his trial now, to utter counterfeit coin—he said he knew nothing about it—I told him that he would also have to answer the charge at Battersea—he said he never lived at Battersea, nor had he been there for years—I told him I had got a search-warrant, and he was entitled to have it read if he liked—he said "Oh, never mind, Mr. Brannan"—I made a search, but found nothing.
Cross-examined. The officers who were with me forced the street-door and the bed-room door with a sledge hammer.
Re-examined. I addressed the prisoner by the name of Copeland—at the station he gave the name of Newman.
EDWARD MILLER (Detective Officer G). I knew the prisoner before September, 1870—he lived at 4, Orchard Place—I have seen him at that house on several occasions before the seizure, having been instructed by Mr. Brannan to watch him, and I have seen him in company with the persons who were convicted; as lately as the night before the seizure—I was there to watch the house—after the seizure I saw no more of him till he was in custody—I endeavoured to find him, but could not.
Cross-examined. I know that the Taylors went to reside at that house about July—it was Mrs. Taylor that I saw the prisoner in company with.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to the Mint—I was a witness here in October 1870, and saw the things then produced, and which are now here—here are two good half-crowns, which were used as patterns, a double and single mould for making half-crowns, a galvanic battery, and a bad half-crown.
GUILTY † Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Monday, February 26th, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
123, Strand—on Tuesday, 30th January, the prisoner came in for a half-quartern of gin, which was 2 1/2 d.—he gave me a florin—I had my doubts about it, but I gave him the change, and he drank his gin and left—I then showed the florin to the barman, and afterwards I tried it with my teeth, and found it was bad—I put it in the fire, and it melted at once.
Prisoner. Q. Were you called to identify me at the Bow Street Police Office? A. I was; a policeman told me that you were in custody—a policeman gave me a description of you before I came to see you—I saw you, amongst eight or ten, but I don't remember any of the others but you—I said I could tell better if you spoke to me—I hare no doubt now that you are the man—I put the florin in the fire, and it melted—I showed it to the barman first—he looked at it—he took it out of my hand and then returned it—he did not leave my company with it.
ELIZA CHETLAND . I am barmaid at the White Hart, Catherine Street, Strand, which is kept by Mr. Wilks—the prisoner came there between 6 and 7 o'clock, on the 1st February, with another man—he called for two glasses of ale, and gave me a 5s. piece—I looked at it and gave it to a man named George Barwood, who was there—he went out and whilst he was gone I gave the prisoner the change, and he left with the other man—I went to see where they had gone, and I saw them both running—Barwood was then coming back with the 5s. piece, and I found it was a bad one—the prisoner was stopped and given into custody, and I gave the 5s. piece to the policeman.
Prisoner. Q. Did I hurry you for the change? A. Yes; that is why I gave it you before Barwood come back—the entrance to the theatre is next door to our house, and there were a good many persons about, going to the theatres—I had not got a tester, but I had my doubts about it, and I sent it by the man to see if it was good—he was gone about a quarter of an hour—he went to the Two Spies just opposite to us.
GEORGE BARWOOD . I am a carpenter, and was at the White Hart, on this occasion—I saw the prisoner come in with another man—what the barmaid has, said is correct—she gave me the crown and asked me if I would go to Hollyman's with it—I eventually found it was bad and brought it back—I was detained there some time—this is the 5s. piece (produced)—I went back with the barman and met the barmaid in the road—she pointed out the prisoner—he was running—I ran after him and stopped him—there was another man with him, but he got away down a court—the prisoner was sober, but he feigned to be drunk after I took him.
Prisoner. You say I was running. Witness. Yes, you were about 100 yards from the public-house when I took you, and I held you till a policeman came up—I gave the crown to the policeman—I had given it to the barman, Mr. Holly man, and he returned it to me—he tested it, it has the marks now, and it was afterwards marked by the inspector at Bow Street.
EDWIN SMITH (Policeman E 124). I took the prisoner on the charge—he said nothing—I found 4s. 6d. in each trowsers pocket, two florins and two sixpences, and two florins in each pocket of his vest, and 2 1/2 d. in copper—he was not drunk.
The prisoner in his defence stated that on this night he was going to the theatre with a friend, went to have a glass of ale and put down the 5s. piece, and as they were running back to the theatre he was stopped by the policeman,
that he did not know it was bad, and that he was not in the Coach and Horses that night at all.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted of uttering counterfeit coin in June, 1871.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
ELIZABETH HAWKER . My sister and I keep a Berlin shop at 28, St. George's Place, Knightsbridge—on 15th January the prisoner came in and asked for a sixpenny fountain of scent—I gave it to him, and he gave me a bad half-crown, which I placed on a back shelf, gave him the change, and he left—I was present on the 23rd, and saw him there again.
Cross-examined. I knew it was bad when I gave him the change, but I had seven or eight ladies in the shop, and only three persons to attend on them.
Re-examined. He had been in the shop three times previously, and paid with bad half-crowns—there was no silver in the till, and I put this half-crown with the copper and stamps.
LOUISA HAWKER . I am in partnership with my sister—on 23rd January, about 4 o'clock, the prisoner came in—I had observed him outside for a quarter of an hour—five or six ladies were there, and he pushed himself among them—I knew him by sight, by his coming there before—he said "Give me another of those sixpenny fountains of scent"—he had bought one of my sister on the 15th—I said "If you will wait a minute or two I will find it," and I went out into the hall and sent for a policeman—I then served him—he took out a handful of silver and gold, and put down a bad half-crown on the counter—I took it up, and said "This is a bad half-crown"—he said "Is it? give it to me back"—I said "I will see"—I took it out, showed it to the prisoner, came back, and said "You have been here a fifth time and brought bad half-crowns"—he said "I do not believe I hare ever been into your shop before"—I said "You were here on the 11th and 15th; if you will give me 8s. for the bad money you have given me I will not give you in charge"—he said "I have not been in your shop before"—I said "You wait a minute, I have a policeman outside"—I went to the mantelpiece, took the half-crown, and gave it to the policeman—the prisoner said "I will give you 2s. for that half-crown"—I said "No; give me 8s."—he put his hand in his pocket, and said "So I will;" but the policeman took hold of him, and said, "No, you are my prisoner"—the coin taken on the 11th was given away to a lady in change.
Cross-examined. The bad coin was given out of our shop, not knowing it was bad; it was on the mantelpiece—we are three sisters in partnership, but my eldest sister knows very little about the business—I am quite sure that when he came on the 23rd he said "I want another sixpenny fountain."
JOSEPH UPSON (Policeman B 270). On 23rd January, about 5.45, I was called to this shop, and saw the prisoner—Louisa Hawker said to him "You have been in my shop four times before—he said that he did not remember being there at all—I said "Are you going to charge him?"—she said "Not if he will pay me back 8s."—she showed me this other bad half-crown—I took him in charge, and found on him 2l. in gold, 17s. in silver, and a penny; the smallest silver coin he had was a florin.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
LILLY WHITMORE . I was barmaid at the Spread Eagle, Middlesex Hospital, in January—I served the prisoner on 6th January, with a glass of beer, and he gave me a bad half-crown—I put it in a flask, where we keep half-crowns and florins—I afterwards found it on the top, and my mistress broke it—on 15th January he came again for a glass of ale, and a twopenny cigar—he tendered a bad florin—I took it to my mistress—I taxed him with passing the former coin—he said that he had never been in the house before.
JESSIE HORNBY . I am the wife of Stephen Hornby, of Charles Street, Middlesex Hospital—on 15th January I received a counterfeit florin from Miss Whitmore, and saw the prisoner in the shop—on the 6th, the Saturday week previous, I took a bad half-crown out of the glass, and broke it.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was drawn into it; a man used to come and take me out. Last Monday he came and took me out, and asked me to get myself a glass of ale.
Recommended to mercy by the Jury. James Brannan stated that the prisoner was the fifth victim, within eighteen months, of a man named Newman, tried this day.—(See p. 317). Judgment Respited.
Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
ALICE PADMORE . I am a postal clerk, in the Westminster Palace Hotel, in the service of the Post Office—on 30th January, about 5.45, the prisoner came for 4s. worth of stamps, and gave me, among other money, a bad half-crown, which he put between the coppers—I did not give him the stamps—I told him he was the man who came that morning at 9.45—he denied it—I sent for a constable and gave him in charge, with the half-crown—he had given me a bad shilling that morning for a shilling's worth of stamps, which I returned to him, and he said he did not know it was bad—I took 7s. 6d. in bad money that day—I am sure he was there twice that day.
ALICIA WALKER . I am a telegraph clerk at the Westminster District Office—on the evening of 30th January, I was with the last witness and saw the prisoner come—he asked for 4s. worth of stamps—she spoke to me and he was given in charge.
Prisoner. You were not there when I asked for the stamps, you were behind, working the telegraph. Witness. I was standing at the counter.
HENRY SKEATS . About 6.20 on the 30th January I was fetched to the Westminster Hotel, and Miss Padmore charged the prisoner with uttering a bad half-crown, he said he did not know it was bad, a gentleman outside
gave it to him to come in for 4s. worth of stamps—Miss Padmore told me in his presence that he had uttered a bad shilling that morning—I took him to the corner of Victoria Street, but he did not point out the gentleman—I found on him a shilling and threepence.
Prisoner's Defence. Do you think for a moment that if I was there in the morning with a bad shilling I should go back in the evening—a gentleman gave me the money and told me to get him 4s. worth of stamps, and he would give me 6d.—I was not aware it was bad, or I would not have taken it—I have a witness to prove I was not there in the morning.
The prisoner called
MARY ANN BADGER . I am the wife of Benjamin Badger—three weeks ago, at quarter to 9 o'clock in the morning, the prisoner came and asked for my husband, who had left word for him to meet him as he did not know whether he would go to work with him—he said that he would call in an hour at dinner time, and he did so.
Cross-examined by MR. COLERIDGE. I was getting the dinner when he came, though it was 8.45 o'clock—he sat down and talked—he was not in the habit of coming, but he has been there two or three times—he was last there on the Thursday morning—I remember this particular day because he made a chopping-board for me—I did not look at the clock when he came in, but it was 8.30 when my husband left the room—the prisoner worked at a gas factory—he made me the chopping-board, between 8.45 and 12 o'clock—I cannot tell you the day of the month, but it is four weeks to-morrow—I intended to have gone before the Magistrate, but was too late.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
HARRY WARBOYS . I am a tobacconist, of 16, Theobald's Road—on 27th January I served the prisoner with half-an-ounce of cut cavendish—he gave me a shilling—I told him it was bad—he made some answer, which I did not hear—I said "I think it is the second, and it is not long ago"—he made no answer—I went round the counter, and saw another man at the door—I asked the prisoner if he remembered coming previously with a shilling—he said that he had passed by, and he asked me whether he was drunk—I gave him in charge—I slightly bent the first shilling, and gave it back.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
FANNY SWANN . I am barmaid at the Cafe Regence, Tichborne Street—on 31st January I served the prisoner with a glass of ale, which came to 2d.—he tendered a bad half-crown—I twisted it in a machine and it bent—I told him it was bad—he said he did not know anything about it—he gave me 2d., and I gave him in charge with the half-crown.
THOMAS LEADER (Policeman CR 32). I took the prisoner and received this half-crown—he said he had sold a coat, and the man must have given him the half-crown—he was remanded, and discharged—he gave his name Robert King, but I found that it was McCloud, as he gave me his address, and I went there.
Prisoner. McCloud was my mother's name.
WILLIAM TURNER . I keep the Prince of Wales, Charlotte Street—on 9th February I saw the prisoner served with a glass of ale by Ellen Bagnall—he gave her a half-crown; she rang it, and I told him it was bad—he said that a gentleman gave it to him for a job be bad done in the City—he went out of the shop, but was stopped by a person named Bollen, and I took him to the station, where he said that a compositor whom he knew, and who worked in the Telegraph office, had given it to him—I never lost sight of it till I gave it to the constable.
JAMES SAGAN (Policeman D 63). Turner gave the prisoner into my charge—he said he did not know the half-crown was bad, and that a gentleman connected with the press had given it to him—he produced a half-crown, and said that he was well known at the Telegraph office, but had no home.
The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that he had served in India during the mutiny, also in New Zealand; that he received the half-crowns from a compositor to pay his lodging, and that if he had known they were bad he would not have risked going before the same Magistrate twice.
Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Judgment Respited.
Tuesday, the 17th, being appointed as a day of National Thanksgiving for the Recovery of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, the COURT did not sit.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, February 28th, 1872.
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and ST. AUBYN the Defence.
EDWARD CHARLES CARPENTER . I live at 10, Addison Square, and am a wicker-worker—on the morning of 17th February I remember going into a urinal—I was tipsy—the two prisoners followed me in—Crosby looked me very hard in the face, and Dowling was behind me, and all in a moment he put his arms round my head and against my breast, and the other hand he put on my fob, and forced me back on the ground—while I was on the ground he kept his hand over my mouth, and knelt across my chest—Crosby rifled all my pockets—I had nothing in them but papers and bills, and two or three post-cards—I heard Crosby say "He aint got nothing"—Dowling said "Are you sure he aint got nothing?"—Crosby said "Yes, nothing at all"—I don't remember crying out at all—I did not see a policeman come into the urinal—I lost my senses—I was very much hurt across my chest—I thought I was dying—these (produced) are the papers and post-cards I had in my pocket.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I had some money about me, but it was in my boot—there were three or four compartments in the place, with an entrance on each side—I was in one of the compartments.
ARTHUR STEVENS (Policeman N 453). About 1.30 in the morning of 17th February, I heard cries of "Police!" from the urinal—I ran across Old Street, and entered the urinal—I saw the prosecutor lying on his back—
Dowling was kneeling on him, keeping him down by placing his knee across his chest—Crosby had his hand in his trowsers pocket—as soon as they saw me they tried to make their escape, and ran into the arms of another policeman, at the other entrance of the urinal—I did not lose sight of them—both the prosecutor's trowsers pockets were turned inside out, and also his great coat pocket—he was bleeding slightly from his mouth.
JOHN BRYAN (Policeman N 456). I heard cries in the urinal on this morning—I went to the opposite entrance, to the other constable, when both the prisoners ran into my arms—Crosby said "You have made a mistake this time, governor; it was not us"—on the ground inside the urinal I found these three post-cards, and two other papers, which the prosecutor has identified—I did not see any other man ran out of the urinal.
Dowling's Statement before the Magistrate was read as follows:—"I was going along Old Street, rather late, about 1.30—I went into this urinal—directly I went in, I saw a young man rush out with a scarf round his neck, and this policeman on his back—directly I saw that, I made my way out and this gentleman took hold of me."
Eighteen Months' Imprisonment and Twenty Lashes with the Cat
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. METCALFE and MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
ANN HUGHES . I am the widow of George Hughes, and reside at the North Pole, Latimer Road, Notting Hill—he died on 30th January—he was fifty-three on his last birthday—in March 1871, he was proprietor of the North Pole—on 7th March he went with Mr. Barth to the renewal meeting at the Magistrate's—he left home about 9 o'clock in the morning—he was then perfectly well, and in very good health—he had always been a strong and hearty man—he returned home, as far as I can remember, about 8 o'clock in the evening, alone—as he came in at the door I saw him walking lame—he complained that he had had his knee hurt—he said he had been kicked—he said he had hurt his knee—he went to bed—he got up in the morning, but he was not able to remain up; he went to bed again directly—he was still complaining of his knee—I sent for a doctor next day, the 8th—Dr. Roberts' assistant came—a nurse was also sent for, Harriet Wick, and she remained with him to his death—in January he got worse, and in consequence of that it was determined to take his leg off—I don't remember the day the operation was performed—he died at the North Pole.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I am almost sure it was from 8 to 9 o'clock in the evening when he returned—I don't think it was quite so late as 9 o'clock—his clothes were not muddy that I perceived—I don't recollect whether they were or not—I did not perceive that he had been drinking—I was in the bar when he came in—he did not come into the bar, he walked straight into the private parlour—I followed him directly—he was a very stout heavy man—he had been at the North Pole between thirteen and fourteen years—before that he was a barman—he never gave lessons in boxing, while he was in Covent Garden; I am sure of that—I was married to him at that time—I never heard of such at, thing—he was not accustomed to boxing; I never heard of it.
WILLIAM FROST BARTH . I am a licensed victualler, and reside at the Rifle Pavilion, Wormwood Scrubbs—in March, 1871, I had known the deceased for some time—I always thought him a healthy man—I should imagine he weighed something about 12 stone, or I fancy it might be a little more; he was a little stouter than me—on the renewal day, the 7th March, 1871, I went to the North Pole to fetch him, and about 9 o'clock he and I started to go to the renewal meeting—as far as I know he was perfectly sound in health and strength at that time—he walked and talked very well—we went to the meeting, and after it was over we were joined there by Mr. Dixon, and we went from the Vestry Hall, and took the train to Notting Hill Gate station—we got out there, and went down the Notting Hill Road, and went into the Coach and Horses public-house—Mr. Dixon and Mr. Hughes went into the private bar at the further end of the house; I went in also for a minute or two—I saw the defendant there; not at first; he came in afterwards with a Mr. Weston—there were other persons there, but I did not know them—I wanted something substantial to eat, and I had it in the private bar—while I was having it Mr. Hughes was pushed against the partition where I stood; he stood opposite to Mr. Fuelling, and I should think it was Mr. Fuelling that pushed him—I did not see him actually pushed—some glass came down from the partition at the time, at the back of me; whether it was glass from the frame or not I don't know—I did not wait to see what happened to Mr. Hughes; I went out at once—previous to the push there had been some conversation about the weight of Mr. Dixon's chain, between Mr. Fuelling, and I believe Weston was talking about it—I saw Fuelling take a 5l. note out of his pocket—there was so much talk that I could scarcely understand what it was for—the conversation was about the weight and value of the chain—after the push given to Mr. Hughes I went into another compartment of the house, and did not see anything more of Mr. Hughes—at the time we went into the Coach and Horses I think he was perfectly sober—we got there between 2 and 3 o'clock—I should say the push was given about twenty minutes after we got there, or it might be a little more.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I did not notice Mr. Hughes drink after he got there; I was attending to my bread and cheese and glass of ale—before the push I saw Mr. Hughes, with his hands behind him, speak to Fuelling with his face close to Fuelling's face—I don't remember the words—I don't know whether he said it was a d—d piece of impudence for him to take that liberty—his face was put forwards close to Fuelling's face, in this way—I did not see Hughes knock Fuelling down—I did not see any blow given by Hughes—Fuelling is a cripple—I have heard that one of his legs is paralysed—I did not know him before I went there—I saw him at the Police Court, and before the Coroner—he walks as if he has a short leg, with a thick clumped foot or boot; I don't know what term is given for it; I know he has a thick sole to his boot.
COURT. Q. Did you hear anything said about what a coward a man must be to strike another with such a foot? A. No; I was not there at that time.
MR. METCALFE. Q. I suppose you went out because there was a disturbance? A. Yes, because there was a row—I don't know that Hughes was rather quarrelsome when he had had a little liquor—I did not know of his being pretty well up in the noble art of self-defence—I never saw or heard anything of it—I never heard of his giving any lessons—I had only known him between three and four years—I left the Coach and Horses
about 3.30, or from that to 4 o'clock—I left Mr. Hughes and Mr. Dixon there—Fuelling had not gone that I noticed—I don't believe he had.
Re-examined. The partition I speak of is the ordinary public-house partition; it is one you could look round by jumping on to the counter; it is what they term a circular bar—it is not a corner public-house—besides the private bar there are in front two compartments; it is a large room, parted into three compartments—when I left the private bar I went into the further compartment—the extent of the private bar is about six feet by five—I can't say where the glass came from that fell when the push took place.
HENRY JOHN DIXON . I live at 1, Swanscomb Place, Hammersmith—I have retired from business—I was a baker at one time—I had known Hughes seven or eight years—he appeared a strong and healthy man—this was the first time I ever knew of his quarrelling—I did not know of his giving boxing lessons—on 7th March I met him by accident, at the Vestry Hall, at Kensington—I accompanied him and Mr. Barth, by train, to the Notting Hill Gate station—he appeared to be quite sober at that time—I don't remember the time we left the Vestry Hall—I think we arrived at Notting Hill a little before 2 o'clock, or about 2—we had not been in any public-house between the time of leaving the Vestry Hall and getting to Notting Hill—when we got out there we went to the Coach and Horses, at Mr. Barth's suggestion—we had taken no refreshment before we got there; we were all quite sober—we all three went into the private bar—I believe the prisoner came in with Weston while we were there—there were three or four persons in the private bar when we went in, but they left—at the time the prisoner and Weston came in I was partaking of 3d. worth of cold gin-and-water—Hughes was drinking cold gin and water—I had on the watch chain that I have on now—it might be a quarter of an hour, or twenty or twenty-five minutes after they came in before the prisoner addressed any observation to me—he was known to me very well—Weston was a stranger to me—Fuelling took up my chain in a jocular sort of way, and said "That is a nice chain, Mr. Dixon; I would not mind giving you 5l. for it"—I believe I said "You very much depreciate the value of my chain, but I do not want to sell it"—I said that in a jocular way—I was not out of temper—I never took it as an insult—Mr. Hughes then said he considered it a d—d insult—Fuelling said "I don't know you; who are you?"—Mr. Hughes said "You don't know me, but (leaning towards Fuelling's face) you know Mr. Harris, do you not?" in that way (describing it)—I was talking to Weston at the time—I said I had no wish to sell the chain—Fuelling had got some notes in his hand, with some gold in the centre, and a 5l. note in his finger—Hughes said to him "You need not be so flash with your money," and then Fuelling pushed Hughes back up against the partition, and up against Mr. Barth—as soon as Hughes recovered himself from the partition, he up with his fist and struck Fuelling in the mouth, and after that Weston struck Hughes in the right eye—the blow knocked him against the partition; but instead of his coming flat against it he came against the round part of it, which caused him to slide round on his back, and he came right on the ground—I said to Weston "All this is quite uncalled for"—some man came from outside the house and picked Mr. Hughes up, and wiped his eye, and I am inclined to think that he sucked his eye, to draw the blood from it; but whether he did or not I don't know; he put his mouth to it—after he got himself a bit together, he came up to Weston and said "You have done this to me,
young fellow," putting his finger to his eye—Weston said "Why did you strike a cripple, one that could not defend himself," at the same time pointing to Fuelling—after that there were some words going on, and while they were going on Fuelling put his left hand against the stairs, one hand against the partition on the right side, and he struck Mr. Hughes like that with his foot, just above the calf of his leg—he leant on the staircase, and struck his foot out—he struck at him with the flat part of his foot; it seemed to strike with the bottom part of the foot, above his calf, on the right leg, just above here (pointing), at the side of the leg, inside the leg, just above the calf—then there was a bit of a skirmish, asking what he meant, and a man came and said if anyone touched Mr. Hughes again he would hit them—after he was kicked Mr. Hughes put his hand down to his knee, and rubbed his knee—he did not say anything then—a Mr. Cook, who was in the other compartment, and who knew me and Hughes, said "Never mind, Hughes, come away," and he took us round to the other compartment—I have seen a high heel to the prisoner's boot; from what I could see of it it would be about three inches—when we got into the other compartment Hughes got up and rubbed his leg—I said "Has he hurt you much?" and he said "Yes, he has caught me on the funny-bone"—I don't know how long we were in that compartment, but it was growing dusk when I left—Hughes was sober at the time he received the blow, and when we left he was sober, as far as to walking, but he was excited—he complained again of his leg—I asked him if he would have a cab—he said no, he would walk home—I accompanied him as far as the Latimer Road—he limped, and stood every now and then—I left him at the farther end of the Latimer Road, from his house—I can't be positive of the time I left him, it was growing dusk—I left him there, and saw him limping along, and I went back home—he had no tumble in the road while I saw him; he had hold of my hand all the way—he had nothing to drink after he left the Coach and Horses with me—he made no complaint about his knee after Weston had knocked him down—Fuelling, myself, and Weston, were in the private bar, and after the occurrence a person came in; I don't know his name, but I see him opposite me now—the landlady was behind the bar, and I think a barmaid—the potman was outside doing something to the lamps, I think; at least, I saw a young man cleaning the lamps, whether he was the potman or not I don't know—I think it would be difficult for anyone but me and Weston to see what was going on, because the compartment was so small.
Cross-examined. If the potman did come in, it was after Mr. Hughes was knocked down—two men came in when he was picked up—it was after he was knocked down that the push or kick was given—the man who came in and picked him up was not the potman; after he had picked him up he stood at the door—the barmaids serve the whole of the partitions—I saw the landlady and a barmaid, or two; I don't know how many—I don't know the name of Towley; he was not the person who picked Mr. Hughes up, that was Achelor or Atchet—it was when Hughes was putting his face close into Fuelling's face that he pushed him back—he pushed him away from him—that was the time he went against the partition, when the glass fell; and then Hughes, as soon as he recovered himself, struck him; he did not knock him down, he knocked him round against the banisters of the stairs; he held by the banisters, he never went down, I am quite sure of that; he went nearly down; he was only saved from going down by the banisters—
Weston did not push him up; Fuelling recovered himself, and directly Hughes struck him, Weston struck Hughes—Fuelling's lip was cut open, and bled—the remark about the cripple was not before Weston struck him; it was after—Hughes was a man of 12 or 13 stone weight, a short thick-set man, his height was about 5 feet 5 inches; he twisted round, and fell right full-length on his back, and his hat fell off—I can undertake to say that the push went against his leg; I saw that—I have never said it went against his stomach—it was with his deformed foot that the prisoner struck him—Hughes was pointing to Weston, and saying "You have done this for me, young fellow;" and while he was making use of those words, Fuelling leant one hand against the banisters and struck him—Hughes was standing with his back against the partition and his face to Weston—I did not at first say, before the Magistrate, "He kind of pushed the deceased with his foot in the stomach"—I was examined twice at the Police Court; that was read to me, and I had to contradict it, and said I never said such a thing—I swear I never said anything about the stomach, it must have been a misunderstanding—I said, before the Coroner, that he struck him on the leg; I believe my words were "He struck his foot out, and caught Mr. Hughes on the leg"—the disturbance lasted a very short time—we left Fuelling standing at the bar when Mr. Cook fetched us away—we remained in the other compartment for sometime—I don't know how long—I was not drinking all the time—Hughes had some gin-and-water, I had some bread and meat—he was very excited, but not tipsy, when we came away; it was the result, of temper, being struck and kicked—he had been drinking; he was not tipsy, he was sober—I don't call a man exactly sober when he has been having a glass of something to drink; he was what I would consider about half and half—I walked with him as far as the Latimer Road, which leads to his home.
Re-examined. When I was before the Magistrate a second time something was said in the deposition about his stomach; I corrected it directly.
HARRIET WICKS . I live at 6, Franklin Terrace, Latimer Road—I am a professional nurse—I was for eight years regularly employed at St. Mary's Hospital, where Mr. Gascoigne is consulting surgeon—I have had considerable experience in nursing patients suffering from different complaints—I was called in to take charge of Mr. Hughes, on 9th March, about 8 o'clock in the morning, and remained in constant charge of him till 30th January, when he died—Mrs. Hughes paid me for my services—when I went, on 9th March, I found Mr. Hughes in bed suffering from severe pain of the right knee—there was a bruise, it was black, about 1 1/2 inch long, and about 3 inches wide, there was inflammation extending from the bruise up the leg, towards the thigh, and about 3 inches down the leg—I immediately applied six leeches, to keep down the inflammation—Mr. Roberts' assistant I believe came twice, but I did not see him—he was principally under my care for some little time—Dr. Godfrey was the first doctor that I called in—that was about a week after my attendance—he attended him about three months'—Dr. Gascoigne was called in on several occasions for consultation during the time of Dr. Godfrey's attendance—with the exception of the knee, Mr. Hughes was perfectly well in health—he never complained of anything but the knee—he performed all the natural functions without any difficulty—he could not get in and out of bed, he lay on his back; he could not sit up because of the severe pain it gave him in the knee, he laid on his left side more than the other—his leg was getting worse—there was a
consultation between the doctors, and an operation was performed, at which I was present.
Cross-examined. I was not sent by Dr. Gascoigne, I was fetched by Mrs. Hughes to nurse her husband—I go out as a nurse and a midwife—he had a black eye, a very bad one, I think it was the right eye; that got better in about a week—Mr. Wilmhurst attended first, then Dr. Godfrey—he gave him up after three months', saying that he could not do any more for him—he, was not examined before the Magistrates or the Coroner.
MR. WILMHURST. I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and live at 79, Lancaster Road, Notting Hill—on 9th March last, I was taking charge of the practice of Dr. Roberts—I was called in on that day to see Mr. Hughes—he was not then in charge of the nurse—I examined his right leg—I found the whole limb swollen and there was an appearance of a dark coloured patch, a little below the right knee on the inner side; it was such a bruise as might have been caused by a kick with a boot, or by any external violence—the skin was somewhat reddened, and there was a feverish state of the system—the pulse was more frequent than was natural to a man of that age in health, and more feeble—with the exception of that condition, he appeared to be a man of good health—I saw him again on the 10th—he was better—I did not attend him after that—the position of the bruise was not such as would be caused by a man falling on his back—there were decided symptoms of inflammation—no excoriation of the skin, simply a dark bruised appearance.
Cross-examined. There was a swelling from the foot to the thigh; it was swollen considerably all the way up, about one-third up the whole limb was swollen; that was sympathetic from the bruise—it would not result from a twisting of the muscles; it could not result from slipping down on his knees; it would not result from concussion; it must have been a direct blow of some hard substance—supposing he was twisted round the corner of a partition, and in tumbling the sharp angle of the partition came in contact with the under part of the knee, that would produce what I saw if it came exactly on that spot, that would be a direct blow—I don't recal the black eye.
GEORGE GREEN GASCOIGNE . I am a M. R. C. S., and one of the surgeons of St. Mary's Hospital; I also practice at 48, Queen Ann Street, Cavendish Square—I have been 20 years in the profession—I was called in to see the deceased on 18th May, 1871, by the friends, to meet Dr. Godfrey in consultation—I found the right leg very much swollen from the foot to the centre of the thigh—I was told that he had met with an injury, and I had no reason to doubt it—the injury was quite consistent with a kick having been given him in the leg—there was no appearance of scrofula about him; he appeared to be a very healthy man—I heard the nurse's evidence—if the man had been struck there, I have no doubt there would be a bruise at the date the nurse spoke of—the swelling I saw from the foot up to the thigh is consistent with that—after the injury, inflammation set in, which travelled along the leg, both upwards and downwards, and went on to the formation of pus and abscesses—the first time I saw him there was a considerable collection of pus in the leg—I made several incisions, and evacuated half a pint of matter; that showed that the injury must have taken place some little time, or he could not have been in such a condition—if everything had gone on most favourably, it was certain to go on for some time, the man must have been kept in bed a considerable time to recover
from the amount of inflammatory mischief—I made a close and accurate examination of the knee and knee-cap, and all the locality; there was no external bruise at that time—I saw him again on 4th July, he was then in a much worse condition—I saw him again on 22nd August, he was a little better then; that is, his general health was a little better; the limb was not—I saw him again on 2nd September; his health had much improved, but the limb had not—I saw him on 7th October; his health was better, but the limb not any better—his general health was extremely good after my second visit—after 7th October I did not see him again till 9th January, when I was called in; I then found that acute inflammation of the knee joint had set in, and that amputation was the only chance of life—I communicated that fact to him—on my previous visits, the inflammation had not reached the joint itself—the appearances I saw on my first visit were not consistent with the disease having originated from natural causes—I performed the operation on 14th January—the leg was taken off about the lower third of the thigh—I afterwards carefully examined the limb that I had taken off—I found the knee joint in a state of extreme inflammation; the cartilages and internal structures of the joint were disorganised and softened; the cavity had given way, and allowed the exit of tissues round, so that the matter was burrowing up the thigh—all the appearances I found were consistent with the injury having been given in the way described in March, 1871—there had been no interim, if I may say so; the symptoms were all consecutive; he had never recovered from the original injury—I confidently expected him to get better after the amputation—he rallied extremely well from the operation—I saw him that same evening, and several times afterwards, and he was making steady progress—the stump had almost healed, and, I believe, would have healed, if the ligatures had come away; I mean the strings placed on the artery to restrain the bleeding—they will not separate after a given period, but if they had separated, I believe the wound would have completely closed in a fortnight after the amputation—the operation was performed under chloroform—on 27th January, hearing that the bleeding had recommenced, I went to see him—I found that he had lost a quantity of blood, and was somewhat faint—on the 29th, a second attack of bleeding took place, and I opened the stump, and secured the bleeding vessel; he then turned over, and went to sleep—he died within two or three hours of the time I left him.
Cross-examined. That was on the morning of the 30th—I did not make any second operation, I merely opened the stump with my finger; I did not cut it—I did not see that the bed was full of blood on the 27th—they told me that he had lost a good deal of blood, but they had taken it away before I came—I consulted with the other medical man in attendance as to what was best to be done, and we thought it was better to give him a chance of recovering from the temporary hemcerrhage—we plugged the stump with wool, and placed bandages on it, so that there was no chance whatever of the return of bleeding till we should see him again—I saw him the next day, the 28th—we did not attempt to secure the artery till the 29th, except by the plugging—hemcerrhage was the immediate cause of death—the hemcerrhage occurred from the same vessel where the operation was performed—the artery was tied up at the original operation—I must have tied it Originally—one or more of the ligatures had separated—I believe it was tied securely—the ligatures ought to separate—at the time of an operation the bleeding vessels are secured with ligatures, and in the course
of time natural process separates them—they must come away before the wound can entirely heal—about a week before the man's death one of those ligatures separated, apparently at the proper period, six or seven days after the operation—from that ligature bleeding set in, whether from that vessel the ligature had come I could only form an opinion, but I believe it was from that—if that artery had been properly tied up I should not have expected the hemcerrhage to occur so long afterwards, unless there was some reason for it—I think the reason was some deep-seated ulceration in the stump—it is not possible for an artery of that size to escape observation in tying up—it might do so, but then it would bleed early, in a day or two—Mr. Roberts was with me at the time of the operation—there was no post-mortem examination of the body; simply of the limb after its removal—the damaged cartilage which I found on cutting open the knee would be the result of inflammation—in my opinion that was the extension of the inflammation which followed the original injury—I could only form an opinion of what the original injury was from what I heard—I was told it was a blow on the leg—the cellular tissue immediately below the integuments first took on inflammation—that would be caused by an injury—I don't think it was the knee joint that was originally injured—it was the cellular tissue, below the integuments of the leg—that part suffered immediately on the receipt of the injury—acute inflammation was established in that, and it spread down the leg and up the leg—that is a very important part of the limb, a part that is peculiarly liable to take on inflammation—the particular part that was injured was the upper and inner part of the shin bone, immediately below the knee—that is a very delicate part—I was told that was the part that was injured, and I have no reason to doubt it—there was nothing to be seen there when I saw him, except general swellings-supposing that to be the part injured, the cellular tissue would carry on the inflammation into the knee—that would not always be the case—it would very often depend on the state of the part—possibly a very stout man might be more subject to the inflammation than another, but not necessarily so—if he had been a drinking man it would be more likely.
Re-examined. As far as I was able to judge, there was no trace of any previous disease—all the appearances I saw in May and in January were consistent with an injury done to the knee in the spot I have described, without any subsequent injury—the inflammation of the cellular tissue extended quite up to the body—I could not trace the particular spot where the injury had been inflicted, because of the inflammation; it was so general—the term "funny-bone" is merely a popular expression to indicate a nervous sensation to a particular bone—it is simply a shock to the nerve, applicable to any part, but more usually applied to the elbow.
RICHARD HENRY BRISTOW MCMULLEN . I am a solicitor, of 8, Westbourne Grove, Bayswater—on 9th June, 1871, I was called in to see Mr. Hughes. (MR. STRAIGHT proposed to ask the witness whether Mr. Hughes gave him certain instructions. MR. METCALFE objected to the question, and THE COURT decided that it could not be put).
The following Witnesses were called for the Defence.
MARTHA JEWELL . I am the wife of Henry Jewell, the landlord of the Hoop and Grapes, Cable street—m March last I was head barmaid at the Coach and Horses, Notting Hill Gate—I know Mr. Fuelling as a customer,
and as a respectable tradesman, carrying on business in the neighbourhood—on the licensing day for Kensington division, Hughes and Dixon came into the private bar, about 2 o'clock, with Mr. Barth—I noticed that Hughes had been drinking, and he was rather quarrelsome, but not till after Fuelling came in, which was, I think, at 2.20 or 2.30—Mr. Weston was with Fuelling—I heard something about a chain, but I cannot say what—a gentleman came in, and sat on the stairs, but I do not know his name—that is him (Mr. Townley)—Hughes said "Is this the d—d German who has got all the money?" referring to Mr. Fuelling—there was then some little altercation, but I do not know what it was, and Mr. Hughes butted his head down in Fuelling's face, with his hat on, and Fuelling said "I don't know you, don't take that liberty again," or some such words, and Hughes struck Fuelling a blow in the mouth, and knocked him down the stairs—I tried to prevent his striking him, by catching hold of his arm—he prevented himself from falling by catching hold of the banisters—I saw Hughes and Weston fall together—Hughes fell round the side of the partition, and then he was out of my sight—the potman, Davey, picked him up—he then went from that compartment into the next, with Mr. Dixon and several others, who came in, hearing a row—Hughes pointed to him, and said "You done that, young man"—they tried to make it up after that—I am sure the defendant did not raise his foot and strike the deceased, because Mr. Watson got in between—if he had done so I must have seen it—I was standing there to keep them quiet—if he had raised himself against the banisters, and raised his foot, I must have seen it—Dixon left the next compartment before Mr. Hughes—Mr. Hughes left about 7 o'clock, with two or three rough men, who were hanging about the house—he was then quite tipsy—during the whole time the deceased was there he made no complaint whatever about any injury to his leg—he continued in the compartment next to the private bar up to the time he left—I serve there, and I was serving him—I had no conversation with him.
COURT. Q. What did you serve him with? A. Gin-and-water—I cannot say the quantity, but he had a quantity before he left.
Cross-examined. I did not say that he was drunk when he came in—I said that he had been drinking—he was a little the worse for liquor when he came in—the landlord served him first, and I served him afterwards—he conducted himself properly until Mr. Fuelling came in, and then he began to quarrel with him.
COURT. Q. How much gin-and-water, cold or hot, would you swear you served him with? A. cannot swear, but either four or five glasses; it may be more; it may be less—I will swear I served him with more than two—I have been married since then—my attention was first called back to 7th March, when Mr. Fuelling was taken—that was after 30th January, and then I told what I knew—customers had very often come in and said that Mr. Hughes was ill.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Who was serving behind the bar with you? A. Miss Evans, the under-barmaid—she came to me and talked to me—she came there while there was nothing doing—the bar is all in one—we had no customers in the other part of the bar at that time; it was a quiet time of day—I am sure there was no kick.
COURT. Q. Did you stay in the inner bar all the time Hughes was there? A. Yes, he went out of the private compartment—the bar is all one, but it
is parted off by partitions, the inner bar is part of the bar—I was in the inner bar all the time.
Re-examined. Where I was is represented by this piece of wood in front of me—there is a division here and then there is another bar—I being behind, can be seen by all—I did not leave the bar before Mr. Hughes did—I pledge my oath that I saw all that took place from the time Mr. Weston struck him—I swear that there was no kicking or pushing by his leg—he was taken into the other bar about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes after he was helped up by the potman.
GEORGE TOWNLEY . I am traveller and collector at the Pimlico Wheel Works, 34, Denvil Street, Pimlico—on the day of the Kensington meeting I was at the Coach and Horses, in the private bar, and saw Mr. Fuelling and the deceased, and Weston and Dixon—they were all strangers to me except Fuelling, who I have known some years—when I went in there was an altercation about a 1000l. dishonoured cheque—I saw Hughes strike him, and Weston knocked Hughes down, and fell over him, at the corner of the partition—I did not stop long, but the deceased went up to Weston and said "Look here, young man, you have done this," pointing to his eye—Fuelling was there, leaning on the banisters—he did not push his foot out against Hughes in my presence; if he had I must have seen it—I was sitting on the stain at the time—it did not take place in my presence—the prisoner's leg is damaged in some way; paralysed, I think.
COURT. Q. How was he leaning? A. Like this, with his foot so—Hughes struck him right in the face, and then Fuelling pushed him away, and then a young gentleman, named Weston, went up and struck the deceased, and knocked him down.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Was he picked up? A. By somebody who came in out of the street, and then he pointed to his eye and said "You have done this, young fellow"—I was sitting on the stairs with a glass of ale—I believe Fuelling's leg is paralysed—he has been a cripple for many years.
(The prisoner here exhibited his paralysed leg, and the peculiar boot adapted to lengthen it, which was taken off and shown to the Jury.)
Cross-examined. I have known Fuelling many years, but not on visiting terms—I have been in the habit of meeting him in that public-house—I went out a few minutes after Hughes was knocked down.
THOMAS DAVEY . I am potman at the Coach and Horses—I saw Hughes, Fuelling, and Weston, and saw Weston knock Hughes down—I picked him up, and a man named Fletcher opened the door, and said "You won't come in here," and Hatcher took Hughes, and sucked his eye—he only took him outside, between the two doors, and he gave Hatcher some money, and he came inside, and wanted to shake hands with Fuelling, and he said "You have done this, young man," pointing to Weston—I was standing at the same bar, close against Fuelling, and could see him—he did not raise his foot and kick him, or push him; he could not reach him—Mr. Hughes was here, as far as that gentleman is away (pointing)—he pushed him away first; but after he was knocked down, he never went near him at all—I remained till Mr. Hughes went away, because master was out.
Cross-examined. The first time I made the statement I have made to-day was after I heard that Fuelling had been charged—the size of the bar is 5 feet by 6 feet.
about 7 o'clock, with some rough men who stood in the next compartment; he was then very much intoxicated—I did not hear him complain of any injury to his leg—I did not see Dixon leave, nor did I see him with Hughes when I saw him leave—I saw Hughes strike Fuelling, but I was called away.
WALTER WESTON . I am a cowkeeper, of Acton—I went with Fuelling to the Coach and Horses—Hughes struck Fuelling, and I struck him, and knocked him down—we both fell together—a man from the outside picked him up—he stood there a few minutes, and then went round into the other bar—during those few minutes, Fuelling did not use his foot, or kick him in any way—Hughes was not near enough to be kicked by him—I was by the side of Hughes.
Cross-examined. I did not kick him, nor did anybody else—he was not kicked there—I was in the place upwards of an hour—I did not strike the deceased on the mouth; I gave him a blow on the eye after he said he would serve me the same—he had not touched me, but he was ready—I had noticed that he was the worse for liquor.
MR. METCALFE. Q. You saw him strike a cripple, and you took the cripple's part? A. Yes.
HENRY JOHN DIXON (re-examined). Fuelling struck his foot out in that direction (putting the, sole of the boot flat against the crown of a hat) with the bottom of his foot—it was not with the toe, but the bottom; that would, should think, bring the deep part of the heel in contact with the leg, if he struck him.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, February 28th, 1872.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
PLEADED GUILTY — Two Months' Imprisonment.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES JOHN BENSON . I am a shirt-maker, of 36, Milton Street—Schofield worked at my house as a carpenter, in November, December, and January—he had access to my stock—Hewell on several occasions brought him his tea—these six petticoats (produced) are mine, and were taken from my stock; they are worth about 2l. 10s.
RICHARD BETHEL . I am assistant to Mr. Lambert, of Old Street, a pawnbroker—I produce these six petticoats; two were pledged by the female prisoner on 28th November for 4s., one on the 29th for half-a-crown, a gown and a shirt on the 5th December, a petticoat on 5th January for 2s., and another in January for 2s.—five of the petticoats were pledged by Hewell, and one by Schofield.
Hewell. Yes; I pledged them.
WILLIAM MILLER (Policeman G). On Friday, 2nd February, Hewell came to the Old Street Station, and said that she wished Schofield to be apprehended for stealing some lead piping from Mr. Bond, of the Green Gate, public-house—I found that to be false, and then she said that there were some things that he had stolen from Mr. Benson's, and gave me these tickets;
she said she had received them and pledged them—I let her go, and kept the duplicates; she was drunk—I afterwards went to 6, King Street, Bath Street, where they lived, and took Schofield—he said that it was all through that drunken beast of a woman that he had done it, and he was glad it had come to that, and that he took the goods for her to wear; she heard that.
JOHN ALLDAY (Policeman G). I went with Miller to King Street; I told Hewell I should take her in custody on the same charge—on the way to the Station she said "We have had a quarrel; I am very sorry for what I have said and done"—I found on her five other duplicates not relating to this.
Hewell's Defence. These things were brought home for his children, not for me, and I had to cut them out; I said that I could not do it, and he said, "You must do the best you can with them." I did not consider I was receiving them as stolen goods, or I should not have pledged them.
HEWELL— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
WHITE PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 5lbs. of the tobacco.
MESSRS. F. H. LEWIS and MR. E. DAVIES conducted the Prosecution.
ARTHUR CHAMPION . I am captain of the ship New World, from New York to London—I received at New York fifty cases of a peculiar kind of tobacco—the Constantine was lying alongside of us at Shadwell basin, and I saw the prisoners on board her—I saw this piece of one of the cases (produced) at the Tide Surveyor's Office, on Tuesday, 13th February—the marks on it exactly correspond with those or the other forty-nine cases—none were missed, to my knowledge.
ARCHIBALD FRENCH . I am in the employment of Grinell & Co., ship brokers—Messrs. Muller & Co. consigned to us fifty cases of tobacco, but only forty-nine were cleared—the weight of each case was 118lbs., and the value, 4l. 8s. 6d., according to the invoice—this piece of wood corresponds with the other forty-nine cases—I have seen the tobacco found in the prisoners' pockets, berths, and beds; it corresponds, to the best of my belief, with that in the forty-nine cases—it is cavendish.
WILLIAM COLLINS I am an officer of Customs—I cleared the Constantine on 9th February—no tobacco was left in her—White was stopped by a dock constable, and handed over to me, on 13th February, about 6 p.m.—I found on him 5lbs. of cavendish tobacco—I asked him where he got it? he said he brought it from New York—I had seen both prisoners working on board the Constantine—I found in Monaghan's berth 26lbs. of tobacco, in the middle of a bag of clothes—after I took him in custody, I asked him if he knew anything about the tobacco, or whose bag it was—he said that it was his bag, but he knew nothing of how the tobacco came in it—I found in White's berth 24lbs. of tobacco also, in a bag of clothes—I also found 18lbs. of the same sort of tobacco in a berth in an unoccupied bed—Simpson, who was also taken in custody, was the only man who was present when I searched—I found nothing in his berth or bag, and he was discharged—I found this piece of a box on the forecastle of the Constantine, about 3 feet from White's berth.
been occupied by the prisoners—there were only three beds in the forecastle; the mate pointed out two of them as the prisoners' beds.
JOHN SHANNON . I am the mate of the New World—fifty cases of tobacco of a peculiar kind were received on board at New York—I saw the cases loaded at the London Docks, and one was missing—this piece of case corresponds with the other cases—the ships were lying alongside of each other, and the ports were open.
Monaghan's Defence. On Saturday I went ashore, and put the clothes out of my bag. On Sunday, three of us went ashore again, and did not come on board again till Monday morning. I know no more about it than a child unborn.
MONAGHAN— NOT GUILTY .
WHITE— GUILTY — Three Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the prosecution.
SAMUEL LYTHEL (City Policeman 169). On Thursday morning, 15th February, I was with Downes, in Threadneedle Street, and saw the prisoners—I knew them, and we watched them—they went into the crowd, and Morris and McCarthy pushed against the crowd at the Stereoscopic Company's window—Larney was pushing about in a very mysterious manner, and then they followed a lady who was carrying a reticule—I saw Morris with his right hand under his left arm, and as soon as he went from her side, I saw her reticule hanging open, and I spoke to her—we followed them from about 11.18 till 1 o'clock, and saw Morris make several attempts to pick ladies' pockets, and to open several reticules—McCarthy was always behind Morris, at the back of the ladies, and Larney was either in front of them, so as to impede their progress, or standing on the kerb-stone—we followed them to Princes Street—two ladies were waiting by the Bank of England for an omnibus—Morris and McCarthy pushed themselves in front of the ladies, and Larney stood on the kerb-stone, watching for the police—we were in plain clothes—Morris put his hand behind him, and one of the ladies observed him and moved away—I then saw that the lady's reticule was open—she fastened it up again—an omnibus came up, and stopped; and as soon as the ladies moved towards it, the three prisoners pushed them selves in front of them—Morris put his right hand under his left arm, and as soon as they got past the ladies, they all ran separately into Threadneedle Street—we pursued them through several streets into Lombard Street, where I saw Morris apparently looking at something in his hand—I saw him give something to Larney—he then put something into his left-hand trowsers pocket—they ran into Gracechurch Street, where we got assistance, took the three into custody, and searched them on the spot—I found in Morris's left-hand trowsers pocket 12l. 10s. in gold, 4s. 6d. in silver, also this purse—we took them to the Station—I had seen them all three together more than once before—the lady's name is Scott.
FREDERICK DOWNES (City Policeman 102). I was with Lythel, and observed all that he has stated—I searched Larney on the spot, and found in his righthand trowsers pocket two 5l. notes, and in his left-hand trowsers pocket 3d.—he said "What do you want me for?"—I said "For stealing these from a lady"—he said "It is wrong; I have only left nay barrow a quarter of an hour ago, and Morris came to me, gave me these papers, and asked me to
read them, and I put them into my pocket"—I said "I know different to that, and you will have to go to the Station with me"—I have seen Larney with the others before.
JEANETTE SCOTT . I am single, and live at 153, Albany Road, Camberwell—on 15th February I was waiting for an omnibus in Princes Street—I had a reticule, which contained two purses, one of which contained two 5l. notes, 12l. 10s. in gold, and some odd silver—this is the purse produced—I missed it directly I got into the omnibus—I did not see the prisoners—I had just received the notes at the Bank—they knew the numbers there, and I stopped them.
Larney's Defence. I met a young chap, and asked him to mind my barrow. He asked me if I could read the notes? I said "Yes," and put them in my pocket. When the constable carne up, I told him I did not know what it was for.
Morris's Defence. I was walking down the off-side and met Larney, who said "Are these notes." I said "Yes."
McCarthy's Defence. I do not know anything about the purse.
LARNEY was further charged with, having been convicted at Clerkenwell, in March 1871, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY†*— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. MORRIS*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. MCCARTHY*— Two Months' Imprisonment and Three Years' in a Reformatory.
MR. HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD DAY . I live at Perry Hill, Catford Bridge, Kent—on 9th February I was driving a horse and cart in Holborn—I saw Joyce, and pulled up and asked if he could direct me to Carter's seed warehouse; he said it was about 500 yards lower down; I thanked him and drove on at rather a sharp speed, but when I got to Carter's I found Joyce Standing outside—he asked me if he might mind the horse or trap—I assented and went into Carter's and bought a quantity of seed, which I put into the trap—I told Joyce not to leave the horse's head while I went across the road and made another purchase—I was absent three minutes at the outside, and when I came back the horse and trap were gone—I value them at 60l.—I went into Carter's and asked them something and then went to Bow Street—next night at 10 o'clock, I gained Information, and at 3 o'clock on Sunday morning I recovered the trap—after going to Bow Street and giving information, I went back to Carter's and saw Joyce there; I asked him what he had done with my horse and trap; he said he thought something was wrong—I said "Yes, I think something is wrong"; he said "A little boy came tome and told me the gentleman who entrusted me with the horse and trap had directed him to tell me to drive it round the corner of Little Queen Street; I said 'Yes,' and when I got there I met another man dressed in a mackintosh, and cloth clothes and a billycock hat; he jumped into the trap and handed me three-pence; I said 'You are not the man who gave me the horse and trap to mind;' he said 'No; it is all right; I am a friend of the man'—he was requested by the detective to come to Bow Street, where I was advised to charge him with stealing, which I did—besides the seed there were a quantity of potatoes in the cart—I received Information, and next night about 10 o'clock, I went into Parliament Street—I remained there till 2.30, or 2.45 on Sunday morning, and saw Odell and another man driving the horse and cart up Parliament Street—they pulled up outside Scotland Yard Police Station, got down, and gave the horse some Savoy plants—
they had a cup of coffee at a coffee-stall; I went up to them and said "Halloa, old boy, a nice night"—Odell said "Yes it is, I am going to drive to Kingston"—I left them drinking the coffee, went to Scotland Yard, got a constable, and when I returned one had gone, but I charged Odell—he said "All right, old boy; all right"—with the exception of the whip and the ring, all the property I had left in the cart had disappeared.
Joyce. Q. When you came back to the seed warehouse, I told you that this prisoner, Odell, sent the little boy for me to say that I was to bring the horse and cart to Queen Street? A. Yes—you also said that he represented himself as a friend of mine, and that you were taken off your guard, also that you had been home and related the circumstance there, and as you thought something was wrong, went back to the seed shop.
WILLIAM ARNOLD (Policeman A 484). On 11th February, about 2 a.m., the prosecutor called me out of Scotland Yard Office, and gave Odell in charge for stealing a horse and trap—I told him the Charge; he took no notice—I asked Mr. Day to go to the office to get somebody to take charge of the trap, and during that time Odell endeavoured to back the horse twice—on the way to the Station he attempted to get something out of his trowsers' pocket, which I found was a purse containing money.
PHILIP HINES (Detective Officer E). On the night of 9th February, I went with Mr. Day to Carter's shop in Holborn, and saw Joyce there—I asked him where the horse and cart were—he said he did not know—I asked him how he came to give it up to a strange man—he said "A little boy came to me, and told me a gentleman wanted it at the corner of Queen Street"—I said "a man like you ought to know better"—when I got him out I said "Do you think you would know the boy again if you saw him?"—he said "I think so"—I took him into Little Turnstile, and he said "Well, I do not know whether it was a little boy or a little girl"—I said "That seems a strange thing"—I took him through New Turnstile, where thirty or forty children were playing, but he could not pick one out—as we came along Great Queen Street, he said "Well, this is rather a serious Job for me, how do you think I shall get on?"—I said "I can't say; what did the man say?"—he said "He told me to meet him in Parliament Street, near the hospital"—I said "Did you go there?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Was he there when you got there?"—he said "No, he was gone"—I took him to the Station—on 12th February, I went to 3, Theobald's Road, where Odell's mother lodged—she took me into her room, and gave me the rug, a sponge, and a bag of potatoes.
Joyce's Defence. I asked the gentleman if I might hold the horse, and he then went into the seed shop; he then went away, and a little boy came and told me to take the cart up the turning.
Odell's Defence. I met a man, who asked me to have a ride in his cart; he took me through Seven Dials, where he took out some of the things; we then went up Oxford Street, and on the Watford Road; we then returned. In the afternoon he told me I could have the rug and potatoes, and I said "Go to Theobald's Road, and leave them there." We went along High Holborn, and right by the shop, which I should not have done had I thought I was doing anything wrong.
Odell received a good character.
JOYCE— GUILTY **— Ten Year's penal Servitude.
ODELL— GUILTY — Three Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, February 28th, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
245. CHARLES BOWYER (18), and HENRY JOHNSON (16), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Snoden, and stealing eleven spoons, six forks, and other articles, his property— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
247. ARTHUR GILLES (14) , to two indictments for feloniously forging and uttering orders for 2l. and 5l., with intent to defraud, having been before convicted, in February, 1870— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment Respited.
249. JAMES ARNOLD (26) , to stealing twelve pairs of stockings, and twelve boxes, of the Great Western Railway Company, having been before convicted in October, 1868**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
AMELIA MITCHELL . I live at Lambeth—on Sunday evening, 7th January, the prisoner came into my shop and asked for a penny worth of milk, and she gave me a florin in payment—I gave her the change, and put the florin in the till—she was the last customer I had—there was no other florin in the till—I took no money after she left—next morning, when I opened the till, I found the florin was bad—I showed it to my husband, and he threw it in the fire—I did not notice whether it melted—the prisoner came in again on Saturday morning, between 4 and 5 o'clock, for another pennyworth of milk, and tendered a Shilling, which I found was bad—I said "You bad woman, why do you come to me to pass this money; where do you live?"—she said "I shan't tell you"—she denied coming to my shop on the Sunday night—I gave the Shilling to the constable—this is it (produced)—I identified the woman the moment she came in with the Shilling.
PATRICK FINGLETON (Policeman. L 166). The prisoner was given into my custody on 13th January, and the prosecutrix gave me this Shilling—the prisoner was charged at the Police Court on the Monday, and then remanded untilsi Wednesday, and discharged—she gave the name of Esther Smith.
Prisoner. I have been in service eighteen years. Witness. She gave the name of a place where she had been in service, and they knew her as Esther there.
JULIA MATILDA FRICKER . I am in charge of the post-office at Pall Mall—on Thursday evening, 15th February, a cabman came in for 5s. worth of stamps—he gave me a half-sovereign, and I detected it was counterfeit directly—I asked him who gave it him, and he said "A lady"—he went out, and brought the prisoner into the shop—I asked her who gave it to her, and she said a gentleman she did not know—I broke it into three pieces, and gave it to the constable.
Prisoner. I said I was very sorry; I did not know it was bad. Witness. Yes, she did say so.
THOMAS PETERS . I am a cab-driver, and live at 3, Windsor Court, Westminster—on 15th January, a tall man called me at Oxford Circus, and the prisoner got into the cab—the man told me to drive her to Charing Cross, and he gave me 2s.—as I was going along Regent Street, the prisoner told me to stop at the nearest post-office, and I stopped at the one in Fall Mall—she gave me a half sovereign, and told me to get 5s. worth of stamps—I went inside, and it was found to be a bad one—I went and opened the cab door, and told the lady to come inside, and she told the lady at the post-office that she was not aware it was a bad one—the man who hailed me was a tall man, rather dark, with a moustache and whiskers.
Prisoner. I got out of the cab directly I went into the shop. I did not know the half-sovereign was bad.
WILLIAM FRITH (Policeman R 14). I produce a half-sovereign given to me by Miss Fricker—the prisoner was given into my custody, and she said she was a prostitute, and some gentleman had given it to her—I took her to the Station—some man came and said "What is the matter?"—I told him she was given into custody for passing a bad half-sovereign—I have seen him in the prisoner's Company—he was a tall dark man, with a moustache.
Prisoners Defence. The man gave it to me; he never saw me before. I am very sorry.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
ANN PURCHASE . I am the wife of Edward Purchase. and live at 1, Crown Street, Soho—the prisoner came in with a man for a pot of beer on 13th February—I had known her before as a customer—she gave me a florin, I gave her the change, and put the florin in the till—there was no other florin there—the man and someone else came in and drank with her, and then left—about an hour after, my husband cleared the till, and took out a bad florin—I had taken no other florin between that time and the time the till was cleared—I put it on the mantelpiece by itself—on 15th February, the prisoner came in again with a woman—I recognised her directly—she asked for a half-quartern of gin and a half-quartern of rum, which came to 5 1/2 d.—she tendered a bad half-crown in payment—I told her directly that it was bad, and I also told her she had been in on the 13th—she seemed very much confused and said "You know me"—I said "Yes you gave me a bad 2s. piece on the 13th"—I said "It is fortunate there is no one here," and she went out—I gave information and she was locked up—I gave the half-crown and florin to the policeman.
Prisoner. I only gave her the half-crown.
EDWARD PURCHASE . On 13th February, I took a bad florin out of my till—I showed it to my wife, and put it on one side—on 15th February my wife showed me a bad half-crown, and afterwards both the coins were given to the constable.
FREDERICK ADOLPHUS FRANCE . I am a grocer, at 23, Crown Street, Soho—one day in February, the prisoner came, and purchased goods to the amount of 6d.—she gave me a bad half-crown—I said it was a duffer—she said her husband had just been paid his wages, and that was a portion of it—she went out of the shop leaving the goods behind her—I gave her the half-crown back—she never returned.
JOHN WELLS (Policeman C 10). In consequence of Information, I took the prisoner into custody on 20th February—I charged her with passing a counterfeit half-crown on the 13th—she first denied it, and afterwards she said "I admit passing the half-crown, but a gentleman gave it to me, and I don't see why I should go for anyone else"—I produce the florin and half-crown, which I received from Purchase.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DAVIES conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BROMBY the Defence.
ROBERT BARTER . I am an engraver and smith—on 2nd February, I left my place of business in Glasshouse Street, about 5 o'clock in the evening, to go home—I saw the prisoner Standing in an opening of the name of Butler's Buildings—directly I got opposite to him he snatched my chain—I ran after him, but I did not catch him—I went directly to the police-station, and gave information of my loss—I saw the prisoner again about 11 o'clock that night, at the police-Station in Leman Street—I picked him out from seven others.
Cross-examined. When I saw the man standing first, he was about six yards from me—he had a billycock hat on—he seized the chain and ran away—I ran after him through the back alleys—it was at East Smithfield, near St. Katherine's Dock, about 5.7—the seven men that I saw had different hats on—they all had hats on.
Re-examined. I recognised the prisoner directly with the greatest ease.
JOHN STEVENS (Detective Officer H). I received information from the prosecutor about 5.30 on the evening of 2nd February, and apprehended the prisoner in the Commercial Road—he swore he would not go, and struggled very violently—I got the assistance of another constable, and took him to the Station—I saw him picked out of seven other men by the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was not the only man with a hat on—there were others with hats similar to his, and some with caps.
GEORGE FOSTER (Detective Officer H). I was with the last witness when he apprehended the prisoner—I was at the Station when the prosecutor came and complained of the loss, and in consequence of his description I went to look for the prisoner, with Stevens—he was with another man in Commercial Road—I saw the prisoner struggling with Stevens, and I released the man I had hold of and assisted Stevens to take him into custody—I then fetched the prosecutor and he identified him without difficulty.
Cross-examined. I took hold of the second man because I knew him as well as the prisoner.
He also PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted in June, 1866, at Newington— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MORTON conducted the prosecution.
dresser at Astley's Theatre—I had a parcel with me containing six petticoats, one towel, a piece of lace, and wrapper—I saw the prisoner on the other side of the road—he crossed and struck me a violent blow on the left side of the head, knocking me down—he tried to take my parcel from me—I held it—he kicked me in the left side and succeeded in getting it from me—he ran away—someone passing helped me from the ground, and I followed the prisoner through Queen Street, into Percy Street and into Little Northampton Street—he was caught and given into custody in Percival Street—I went on to the Station and made the charge—a gentleman picked my parcel up and came with me to the Station—there were three men walking together, and the prisoner deliberately crossed the road.
Prisoner. I never touched the woman. The prisoner is here who struck the woman; he is in No. 2 E; Frederick Hodson is his name. (He was sent for). Witness. I am quite positive this is the man.
EDWARD GRAY . I live at 4, Clerkenwell Green—I was in King Street on the 4th of February a little after 1 o'clock—I saw the prosecutrix there, and the prisoner with two others—as soon as she got to the last turning in King Street, he crossed the road and knocked her down—I am certain he is the man—he picked up the bundle, ran away, and I followed him into Queen Street and Little Northampton Street, where he throw the bundle away—I ran after him till he got to the end of Northampton Street, and then the constable took him—I did not lose sight of him.
Prisoner. It is false. I believe he was one of them.
GEORGE ALLEN . I live at 20, Queen Street, Percival Street—on 4th February I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I was going indoors, between 1 and 2 o'clock—the prisoner rushed past the door, with this parcel—I saw him throw it away—I picked it up and followed him till he got to the bottom of Queen Street into Percival Street—I saw him taken into custody—we all came in collision together—I never lost sight of him till he was taken.
Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate; "I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw people running, and I ran to see what it was. (FREDERICK HODSON was here brought up and stood by the side of the prisoner.)
GUILTY *†— Five Years Penal Servitude and Forty Lashes with the Cat.
MR. A. B. KELLEY conducted the Prosecution.
KEZIAH JONES . I am the wife of Henry Jones, and live at 14, Birming-ham Street—the prisoner lives opposite—on Monday evening, January 16th, between 5 and 6 o'clock, the prosecutor's wife came to my place—I went to the door, and saw the prosecutor run out of the prisoner's passage towards my door—I saw blood coming from his arm—the prisoner ran out after him, struck him, and knocked him down—she struck him with her fist—he got up, ran into the middle of the road, and she knocked him down again—the
prisoner's husband was there—they both struck the prosecutor, and knocked him down; a young man picked him up—I pulled him indoors as soon as I had the opportunity—I examined his arm—I pulled up the sleeve of his shirt—as I washed the wound, a piece of the flesh came off in the basin—the prisoner was given in charge next morning.
Prisoner. She never saw me with a knife. I did not wound him.
JANE BRUSH . I am the wife of John Brush, and live in Birmingham Street—on this night I was at my window, and saw the prisoner run into her mother's—the man ran out with his wife, and that woman and her husband punched into the prosecutor—I came down stairs, and said "What a shame!" I picked him up, and said "Oh! sir, you are bleeding"—I saw blood on his shirt—he said "That b—stabbed me, indoors, with a knife."
GEORGE DOWNING . I live in Parker Street, Drury Lane—on 16th January she (prisoner) and her husband and I were drinking in their room—I could perfectly understand what was going on—the prisoner and my wife quarrelled, and I endeavoured to part them—I turned round and blackguarded them for fighting, and I blackguarded her husband for advising them to fight, because there was a difference in their weight—I and the prisoner's husband came to blows then—I fought him into the passage, and when I was making a blow at him I felt the prisoner come behind me, and catch hold of my hair with one hand—I felt something on my arm—it did not feel as if it was a stab—she at the same time said "Give it to him, Scotty;" and when I went to make a blow, my arm fell—I got Scotty by the throat, and got him forwards to the door, and then I fell down—I got up, about three parts, and one of them knocked me down, and the other kicked me; the woman followed me out afterwards—I was taken to the hospital, and my arm was dressed there—I can't swear that I was stabbed with a knife—there was a little pruning knife on the table—there were no nails and no window within twelve feet of the place—I did not see any knife in her hand.
Prisoner. They had been drinking all the day before. I did not do it.
FRANCIS RICHARDSON CROSS . I am house-surgeon at King's College Hospital—I attended Downing—I found him suffering from a severe wound at the back of the right arm—it did not appear to me to be a dangerous wound—it struck me as having been inflicted by a blunt knife—it was not a clean cut wound—the upper part was cleanly cut, but the lower part was torn, and the muscle was protruding—it must have been caused by something sharper than glass, I think—I don't think it would be produced by rubbing against a nail, because the upper part of the wound was cleanly cut—the wound was about the middle of the arm, and ran towards the inner side—the muscle was divided.
Prisoner. It was washed before you saw it.
JOHN LAW (Policeman T 45). I took the prisoner on the night of 17th January—I told her she would be charged with cutting and wounding a man named George Downing, on the previous evening—she said "All right, I will go with you; how is he?"—I said "He is in King's College Hospital, and looks in a very dangerous state"—she said "I am very sorry for it; this is the result of drink."
COURT to GEORGE DOWNING. Q. Did you go down to her house that night? A. Yes; I said I would lock her up, and she said "Oh! lock me up"—I went there because my wife had left her bonnet—I went with the intention of locking her up—I went to get a policeman, and she ran away.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, February 29th, 1872.
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
MESSRS. HARRIS and HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FINLAY the Defence.
HENRY TAYLOR I am Record Keeper at the Faculty Office, Doctors' Commons—I produce an original affidavit made before the surrogate on 7th August—I cannot say whether the prisoner is the person who signed it—I can't say that I saw him put his mark to it; one of the clerks in the office would see that—he is not here
DR. JOHN GEORGE MIDDLETON . I am Surrogate to the Master of the Faculty, the Archbishop of Canterbury—on 7th August, a person was brought to me from the Faculty Office by a clerk; he swore his name as Henry port-bury—I am speaking from the affidavit—I have no recollection of the facts or the person—I administered the oath that this was his mark, and that he knew the contents of this affidavit to be true—the mark was not made in my presence—it would be done in the office, in an adjoining room—I have no belief at all as to the prisoner being the person—it is e, very common transaction—I don't know the meaning of these letters, "B B B," on the affidavit—I take it they are the clerk's initials.
There being no evidence at to the identity of the prisoner, the Jury, under the direction of the COURT, found him
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, February 29th 1872.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD the Defence.
THOMAS HILL . I live at 9, Raven Row, Mile End—on 26th January, between 6 and 7 o'clock in the evening, I went into the Roman Arms, Roman Road, at the back of the New Model Prison—the prisoners came in after me, and Maney struck me at the side of the temple—it had not power enough to knock me down, but he cuddled me round the arms and we both fell on the floor, and the other prisoners fell, one on the top of me, and the other pulled my coat open—I had a purse in my breast pocket, containing three sovereigns, three half sovereigns, and 12s. in 3d. and 4d. pieces—it was safe in the purse, because I took 2s. out when I went in there and put the purse back in my breast pocket—the prisoners ran away, and I walked to the door and called a policeman—I had met Maney that afternoon in the cattle market, where I sold a horse—the three prisoners were present—the money I lost was not the proceeds of the sale—I went there intending to buy a pony, and offered money for one in the prisoners' presence—I saw them all three together next evening at Mr. Hicks' public-house—I am sure of them.
Cross-examined. I had had a pint of half-and-half before that—I was going to buy a pony, and took my purse out, but nobody saw me take it out except the man belonging to the pony—I missed my money when I got to the railway station, which is next door to the public house, but I knew before that that I had been robbed.
January I went with Hill, and Watson, and Maney to the cattle market—as we came home I stood outside the public-house to watch for the train, and saw the prisoners go in—they began rowing, and hit Hill and nearly knocked him down—Maney then cuddled him while the others fell on top of him—when they got up they went to the railway station and my master felt in his pocket for the money, and it was gone—we looked for a policeman, but could not find one.
Cross-examined. It was not till my master was going to buy the tickets that he missed the money.
WILLIAM CHAPMAN (Detective Officer K). I received information, and on Saturday evening, January 27th, I found the prisoners in a public house—I took Maney and George Garrett and told them the charge, they said that they knew nothing at all about it—going to the station George Garrett said that he could prove there were as many as twenty men there when it was done—other men were called out of the streets, to the station, and Lowe identified the three prisoners—Samuel Garrett had been taken by another constable—next morning outside the Court, Samuel Garrett said, "I know nothing about it, Maney struck the blow, there were other men there," mentioning three or four names.
Cross-examined. They said they had nothing to do with it.
GUILTY .Sentence on SAMUEL* and GEORGE*†GARRETT— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD the Defence.
JAMES WATSON . I live at Stephen's Road, South Bow—on the 6th of January I had a horse and van to sell, and was going to Islington—I met the prisoner and gave him a ride, and Hill and Lowe went with us—I sold the horse and van for 8l. which, I believe, the prisoner saw me receive—he said that I had promised him 5s. which was false, but I gave him a half-crown—and I thought he would go away, but he did not—he said he wanted a half-crown for the two companions, fifteenpence a-piece—and he struck me in the mouth and knocked me down, and two others who I have not seen since fell on top of me—my money was loose in my right hand trowsers' pocket—the prisoner kicked me in the back and went away.
Cross-examined. I could not run after him because he kicked me in the back—I knew that my money was lost because my pockets were turned inside out—I felt them take it when I was down—I saw nobody about—there were two or three people at the Roman Arms—I paid for a pint of half-and-half hardly five minutes before I was knocked down.
THOMAS HILL . I am a cooper—I went with Watson to sell his horse and van at the Cattle Market, and was present when the horse was sold—the prisoner asked him for 5s., but he would not give it, and the prisoner struck him on his nose and made his nose bleed—I said, "Maney, if you were to do the same thing to me I would lay hold of you and break you in half," and I went away and did not see him till he robbed me.
GUILTY *— Five Years Penal Servitude.
MR. LEE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. E. DAVIS the Defence.
ALEXANDER BLOOMTIBLD (Policeman N). On the 23rd of January about 10.30 a.m., I met the prisoner in Green Street, Bethnal Green, carrying this bag—I asked him what he had got—he said "A jacket"—I said I want to "look at it"—after a bit he found the key and opened the bag—it contained these portions of a seal-skin jacket—it is the whole jacket with the lining torn out—I asked him where he got it, he said he bought it of a Jew bloke in Houndsditch—I said "Well Jemmy, you will have to come with me to the station."
Cross-examined. He opened the bag and pulled out the seal skin—he made no resistance.
JOHN SCHROETER . I am a merchant, and live near Eltham—on 2nd December this jacket was stolen from my father's house, some time in the night of 22nd December, when a burglary was committed—it has been torn up since—it belongs to my sister, Lydia Schroeter—it was old and worn out, and was worth about 5l.—one furrier has written her name in it in full, and another the initials "M. L."—we missed nothing else.
Cross-examined. A pane of glass was taken out of a window—the name would not be seen while the lining was in the jacket.
HENRY KEILECH . I am a furrier, I repaired this jacket in December, 1870, it was marked already, and I marked it, besides I took particular notice of the name, because it was misspelt—it is worth at any rate 20s. in this state.
Cross-examined. Nobody would see the marks without undoing the lining—here is a piece which I put in my self—I re-lined it and can positively swear to it.
LIZZIE COE . I am in service at Mr. Schroeter's—on 1st December I hung up a seal-skin jacket; I could not see the marks because the lining was in—on 2nd December a pane of glass was removed, and the house was broken into, a chest of drawers was broken open, and the jacket was gone—I had fastened up the room the night before; I closed the window—the putty was cut, a pane of glass taken out, and the window opened.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I gave 30s. for the jacket."
NOT GUILTY .
261. WILLIAM SMITH (35) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Frederick Reuss, and stealing therein an opera-glass, a table-cloth, and other articles, the property of Fanny Small.
MR. BOTTQMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH REUSS . I am the wife of William Frederick Reuss, of Elgin Crescent, Noting Hill—on 7th January I was aroused by the police, went down stairs and found the area door open, the shutters and window open, the hasp pulled back and the kitchen in great confusion—I missed spoons, forks, knives, coffee-pots, teapots, and things belonging to the servants, and upstairs a dressing-case was broken open and on opera-glass and some pistols were taken—this is my opera-glass (produced) I bought it in Vienna—some cigars which had been in this box (produced) were strewed about the room—here is a mark of blood inside the box which was not there before.
Prisoner. Q. Did you state at Hammersmith Police Court that the
place was saturated with blood? A. No; I said that the kitchen table was all over blood, and the aprons and dusters in a drawer—they were smears of blood, not spots.
WILLIAM URBAN (Detective Officer X). On the morning of 3rd, January I saw this house—the glass of the window was broken—I pushed it, but could not get in, and went on—I was afterwards aunt to make inquiries—on 20th January I took the prisoner at the Elgin public-house, Noting Hill, and told him the charge—he made no reply—I said "You will have to go with me to the station"—we walked a long distance, and then he said "You have made a great mistake this time"—I said "I do not think I have, for I have found the opera-glass, pawned, no doubt, by you"—he made no reply—I said "And I know where you offered the other things as well as the opera-glass for sale previous to it being pawned"—he said "You are right; I am sold; who do you think sold them? why, Harry Ransom"—afterwards he said "Well, I did not do the job, but I had rather stand to it than round"—I found this scarf (produced) round his neck, ado took it oft—he made no reply, but at the Police Court, on the remand, he said "I can tell you where I bought the scarf, in the Edward Road, at the corner of John Street—a piece of skin, about the size of a pea, had been knocked off his left hand, and was healing up.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you inspect my hands after my being remanded one week? A. Yes; the piece of skin was decidedly large enough for blood to have flowed—I did not notice that you unpinned the scarf when you took it off—I did not mention the name of Ransom to you; you mentioned it yourself.
Prisoner. Q. "Have you any mark on it?" A. "No; but it is the same length, and it had fringe.
EDWARD PINKSTER . I am assistant to Mr. Thompson, a pawnbroker, of Bayswater—I produce an opera-glass, pawned on January 8th, about 8.30 a.m., in the name of John Cook, by a man similar in height to the prisoner, but I cannot recollect his face.
HENRY RANSOM . I am a builder and decorator, of 175, Lancaster Road, Netting Hill—on 8th January, about 7.30 a.m., I met the prisoner opposite the Mire Tavern, Noting Hill—he spoke first, and asked me if I wanted to purchase any linen table-cloths and sheeting—he had a bundle under his arm, not tied up, but all open, and offered me the whole of it for 8s.—he took out a white opera glass, similar to this, and asked me to buy it—I told him I did not make use of anything of the kind—he was smoking a cigar—he left me, and after he got a little distance, he looked round, and said "Well, you have not seen me"—I met him between a quarter and half a mile from Elgin Crescent.
Prisoner. Q. Did I speak to you in the Elgin public-house? A. I do not remember it—I did not see anyone sitting on a barrel—I believe there was no one there except you and the barman, previous to my going in.
The prisoner put in a written deference, stating that he met a man who took him into the Miter, and asked him if he knew anyone who would buy the articles—that he said "No," but when Ransom came in, he took them, and offered them to him.
GUILTY .*— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, February 29th, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WHITHLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Cockran, Whalin, and Brittain.
JOHN ROBERT MAYHO . I am an oilman, and live at 39, Princes Street, Portland Market, Marylebone—on Tuesday evening, 30th Januarys I went into a public-house—I don't know the sign, being a stranger there—Mr. Shirley was with me—seven men came into the public-house—the prisoners are five, of those men—the one that tried to trip me up is not there-wit was between 4 and 5 o'clock when we went into the house, and we stayed there about a couple of hours, having glasses of ale and smoking—I had been down to the Fireaway Read about some property—Rock came in first, and said he was starving, and Shirley gave him some bread and cheese, and asked me to pay for it—I pulled out some gold and silver—I had 17l. 8s. when I went from home—I handed Mr. Shirley a shilling to pay for the bread and cheese—I afterwards treated all the seven men to bread and cheese and ale—we left the public-about 6 o'clock, or a little after, and went to the next one, and the men followed us—all seven of them came in—we stayed there about three-quarter of an hour—they had some ale, and I paid for it we came out of the second public-house about 7 o'clock—we got a good distance down the Portobello Road, and Sullivan, Cockran, and Rook pinned me, and Brittain took nay money out of my pocket—Whalin was with them, but I can't say that he had hold of me—one or two of them had hold of Mr. Shirley—I can't swear who they were, because he was a little distance from me—I caught hold of one of the men, but he is not here to-day—they tried to trip me up, but I did not go down—they all ran away after that—I am positive that the prisoners are five of the men—I identified them at different times, from among a number of others identified Sullivan first, then Whalin, and then Cockran, Rook, and Brittain—I had not the slightest doubt about them—they are five of the seven, and were there from the time of going to the first public-house till they ran away.
Cross-examined. The public-house was where I first saw the seven men—they came in one after the other—they all had bread and cheese and ale—they were all strangers to me—I often have a large sum like that my Pocket; sometimes more and sometimes less—I don't generally take it out and show it in public-houses, and I am sorry I did then—I had three glasses at the two public-houses—two at the first and one at the second, and my friend had the same—we had a smoke—we were in the second public-house about three-quarters of an hour—I only had one glass of ale there; I don't swallow mine down like some of them—we had not been into any public-houses before that—I had my dinner before I started—I have never given a different description of Brittain—I did not describe him as a dark young man with a dark moustache—I said that the man who tried to trip me up had a dark moustache—Brittain is the one who took my money—they followed me behind and pinned my arms—four of them held me, three of the prisoners and one other—it took a very short time, not much over a minute, I should think—it was between 7 and eight o'clock—I gave a description of the dark one, but I could not swear to the other—we had got about 100
yards from the second public-house before it happened—they walked behind us all the time—I saw they were the same men—I did not know they were going to rob me—they were talking all the time amongst themselves—we were coming home as far as we knew—we were strangers there—we could not find a police-station for some considerable time afterwards—I went to look at a house—I was going to buy it—we went there first and then went into the public-houses—the landlords of the public-houses are not here, and they were not called before the Magistrate—it is not true that I was sick—I did jump in the public-house, and Brittain jumped in the bar—it was a standing jump along the floor.
Sullivan. Q. What time was it you say you were robbed? A. Between 7 and 8 o'clock. Sullivan. About that time I was given into custody by the landlord of the Prince Arthur for being drunk and insulting him in his own house—I was in the public-house with the gentleman, but not at the robbery.
Rock. I was not there at all—I was at work the same day.
Re-examined. I was not intoxicated—I had had something to drink, but perfectly knew what was going on the whole time.
THOMAS SHIRLEY . I live at 44A, Princes Street, and I live on a little property of my own—I was with the last witness on Tuesday, 30th January, and went into a public-house with him—Rock came in and said he was starring, and I gave him two pennyworth of bread and cheese, and a pint of beer—the other men came in, and my friend said they all seemed to be hungry and wanting; and we gave them all some—we left that public-house and went to another—I don't know the sign of it—the same men came in there—the prisoners are five of them—we treated them to some ale there—I afterwards left that public-house with my friend—not knowing the road I said to one of the men "Will one of you fetch me a cab, and I will give you a shilling?"—they wanted the shilling beforehand—I said "No; when you have fetched the cab I will give you the shilling"—we went out to try and get a cab—I heard some persons following—I turned, and saw they were the same men—I was pinned from behind—when I came to my senses again I looked across the road, and I saw these young men there round my friend—they had hold of him—they were the same men who had been in the two public-houses—my friend was in the road, and I was on the footpath, a little ahead of him—I am sure the prisoners are the men I saw there—I identified them afterwards—I have had to go and pick them out—I have no doubt about them, but I thought there was another one, but when I got closer to him I found he was not one of them—I have not the least doubt as to these five.
Cross-examined. There were fifteen or sixteen round the room when I picked them out—there were either six or seven we treated in the public-house—I could not swear whether we treated six, or seven, or eight—that observation applies to both public-houses—I don't know how long we were in the first—it might have been two hours, or two hours and a half—I did not jump—I am no jumper—my friend jumped to see how far he could jump along the floor—some of the young men were jumping for amusement, and he did it too—I can't say how many men pinned me—my arms were pinned behind, and very nearly wrung out of the sockets—I expect it was more than one—it was so sudden, I really did not know where I was for a minute—the whole of the prisoners were round my friend—there were about seven of them.
Sullivan. They were in the public-house between 1 and 2 o'clock, and
his friend was sitting on a barrel. Witness. He was sitting on a barrel, and I Was standing by his side, leaning on the counter—I did not hear him say "I will jump the lot of you"—he did jump, and slid down—he was not drunk—we only had a smoke and a glass or two of ale—I did go outside with him, but I did not say afterwards that he had spewed like a fountain—he merely spit, he did not actually vomit; but he spit out a mouthful of porter—he did not come inside and say he had been drinking all the evening, and was not fit to jump—I was not drunk—you wanted to take, the change out of the beer, and I would not allow you.
Rock. I was never there.
Re-examined. I had had four glasses during the day—I certainly was in a condition to know what I was about, and so was Mr. Mayho—some of the young men were jumping in the bar, and Mr. Mayho thought he would try, and he jumped once or twice—I am quite certain that the prisoners are the men who were at the two public-houses.
WILLIAM STUCKLEY . I live at 4, South Road, Westbourne Park, and am a porter—on Tuesday 30th January, I was outside the Britannia public-house, about 4 30 or 4.45—I saw Mr. Mayho and his friend come out and go away from the public-house—I saw Sullivan come out soon afterwards—he spoke to the others who were round, and he said "One of those men promised me a bob, I mean to have it by fair or foul means;" he said he saw about ten quid in his hand, and he might have the poke before the night was out"—Sullivan, nick named "Tommy Dodd," said that—Mr. Mayho and his friend returned and asked if he could get a 'bus, and Sullivan said "I thought you wanted a cab," and he said a cab would do—they then went into a public-house at the corner of the bridge, and seven other men came up and asked me where they had gone—I said "Round that way some—where," and I nodded my head—five of those men are here, that is including Sullivan—they went into the Warwick, and I followed soon after, and saw them, all in the private bar—I stood opposite and watched; I intended to watch right through, but I had occasion about 7 o'clock to leave and go and look to a fire which I was keeping up for my missus, and when I returned about 7.15 I saw Sullivan making his way towards the Prince Arthur, and the others were gone—I thought no more about it and went round the house—when I came back, in about ten minutes, I saw a mob outside the Prince Arthur—Sullivan was in the public-house at that time—I went down towards Netting Hill, and found Mr. Mayho and his friend down a turning—they had had some drink, but I don't think they were drunk—I think they were in a condition to know what they were about—I went with them to the police-station, and they made a statement.
Cross-examined. I never saw one of them sick—there was no doubt they had had some drink—there was a large mob when I came back to the Prince Arthur—there might have been 80 or 100 round there.
Sullivan. Q. When you say you saw me come out of the Britannia, and mention those words, why did not you give information to the police? A. Because I didn't feel so disposed, I wanted to see the game out—I did not tell you I was out of work, and if I did not get work I should have to do something.
Whalin. Q. Did not you see me at work opposite the public-house. A. Yes.
CHARLES LEWIS (Detective Officer X.) I conducted the identification of these prisoners—Brittain was placed with twelve or fourteen others, after he had placed himself the prosecutor was brought in; he was asked if he could
identify any of the men, and he immediately pointed across the room and said "Yes, I see one there"—I told him to go and touch the man—he went round and touched Brittain with his hat, and said "That is the man," Brittain said "Are you sure," and he said "I can swear to you among a thousand, you are the man who was jumping about and took the money out of my pocket"—I charged him with being concerned with others in stealing 17l. from Mr. Mayho—when I first took him into custody I went to 44, Lonsdale Road—when I entered the room he said "I know nothing about the robbery, Mr. Lewis"—I said "You must come with me," and I charged him with being concerned with the other men in robbing Mr. Mayho, in the Portobello Road, on 30th January—he said "I was not with them at all"—I said "One of the company tells me you were drinking with them the whole of the evening"—he said "I was drinking with them up to 7 o'clock, and I left them at the Karl of Warwick"—I was present at the identification of all except Rock—Sullivan was placed among nearly thirty men; the prosecutor identified him without the slightest difficulty—the identification of the others was conducted in the same way—Shirley picked them all out of the same number as the prosecutor—he had no difficulty at all.
Cross-examined. I saw the prosecutor and Shirley on the night in question—they had been drinking—I could smell it, but I think they knew what they were about—as soon as I saw them they described Sullivan, and I said "There is no doubt I can soon find him, for I know him well"—I went to Kensal New Town, and discovered that Sullivan was locked up, charged with being drunk and assault at 8 o'clock.
FRANCIS BEEDLESTONE (Policeman X 111). I took Sullivan into custody on January 31st—he said he knew nothing about the robbery, he was not there—I took Whalin the same evening, and charged him in the same way—he said "I was not in the company at all—I know nothing about it"—when I apprehended Rook he said "I was at work that day, and was not there, neither do I know anything about the robbery"—I was present when the prisoners were identified by Mayho and Shirley.
Prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Rock says,"I had nothing to do with it." Brittain, says, "I was not outside with them at all; I left the Earl of Warwick at 6.30." Brittain received a good character.
GUILTY — Twelve Months Imprisonment each, and Forty Lashes with the Cat.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
CAROLINE JONES . I am the wife of Thomas Jones, who keeps a fishmonger's shop—on February 2nd I met Mrs. Casley, in York Street, with some things she had taken out of pawn—I went with her to the Adam and Eve, and had two pots of half-and-half between three of us—after that we went to a public-house in Rochester Row, and Mrs. Casley paid for another pot—we had three or four pots, and then went to her house—I went in first, and went up stairs with her things—the prisoner Barrell shoved me up the banisters, and snatched the parcel out of my apron, and ran down stairs—he threw them over the banisters, and ran down stairs—Driscoll had
nothing to do with it—I stood confused after the man ran away, and then I came down stairs and went home.
MR. LANGFORD here withdrew from the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STRAIGHT conduced the Protection; and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
JOHN HULLAS . I am in the employ of George and Henry Scovell, as foreman, at Cotton's Wharf—on Tuesday, January 16th, about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, this warrant (produced) was brought to me in the ordinary course of business—when a warrant has been left for the delivery of tea, it is initialled by Mr. Morris—I saw the initials of "J. M." on that warrant, in the proper column—it is also the custom to put on the warrant the character of the conveyance into which the packages are to be put, and upon the warrant appears "Smith's truck"—having received that warrant, I looked out the chests of tea, and found that they corresponded, and I returned the warrant to the office—in the course of the afternoon I called out for Smith's truck, and the prisoner answered—I saw the nine packages put on the truck—I had seen the prisoner at my master's premises frequently before, and I have not the slightest doubt that he is the person who was there with the truck—it was between 1.30 and 2.30 he took the packages away—he was quite cognisant of the course of business at the premises—I rely on the initial "J. M." and that document to look out the goods—I believed that to be a bona fide signature, "Armstrong & Co., B. Taylor," and I looked out the goods and delivered them.
Cross-examined. I knew that Mr. Morris's initials were "J. J. M.," but I did not observe that it was only "J. M.," or I should have called attention to it—I can't say whose handwriting "Smith's truck" is—I know the prisoner very well—he has been a collector of teas and coffees at Cotton's Wharf for the last three or four years—a small note is handed in by the person making the application—the prisoner did produce a note, and that note I returned to him with the packages of tea—what he did was in the ordinary course of business—I kept the warrant.
Re-examined. That warrant would not be given up until a receipt was given for it—the warrant was probably delivered on the 15th or 16th—how it was left I can't say.
JAMES JOHN HALL . I am an officer of the Customs House—on 16th January, some person came and paid the Custom House dues on nine chests of tea—this is the document on which the duty was paid—it was paid at 12.15—the document is signed "B. Taylor, clerk to W. Armstrong & Co." it is necessary to pay those dues before the teas can be taken away from the warehouse—that is what we call the duty paid warrant—it is for nine chests containing 178lbs. of tea, and the duty is 4l. 9s.
JOHN JOSEPH MORRIS . I am a clerk to Messrs. Scovell—in the ordinary course, when a warrant comes to me, I should initial it "J. J. M" if it was correct, and then it would pass into the hands of the warehouseman, and after the goods had been looked out, it would be returned to the office, and then it would not be parted with until a receipt was given for it—I have not been able to discover how this document got into the hands of Hullas—the "J. M." that is put as the clerk's initials for delivery is not my
writing, nor written by my authority—it is a pretty good imitation of my writing, but I detected it at once, because there was a J. short—there was about 4l. odd due as charges on those chests of tea—they had originally been delivered at the warehouse in 1864—having heard that the nine chests had gone out of the warehouse, inquiries were made as to the charges, and I found I had never received the warrant, and no entry had been made in my book—information was given to the police—I did not know the prisoner before—we have no customers of the name of Armstrong & Co.
Cross-examined. Anyone might produce the warrant before I initialled it—I should see if it was correct and sign it, and place it in a drawer where it would be sent up for delivery—I should make up the charges if the person had no account with us—the foreman would compare the goods with the warrant.
JOHN GARRETT DOYLE .—I am wharf superintendent to Mr. Scovell—on Saturday night, 20th January, I received information, and went with Detective Berry to the Castle public-house, Old Kent Road, about three minutes walk' from the premises occupied by Mr. Bowers—I saw the prisoner at the Castle, and said "On the 16th of this month, you took nine boxes of tea from Customs Wharf, on Smith's truck"—he said "Yes, I did"—I said "Will you tell me to whom you delivered them, and for whom you were working, and where?"—he said "No, I can't; I was waiting about outside the wharf gates, and a party came up to me, and asked me if I would take in a truck and collect those teas, and he would meet me outside in Bermondsey Street—I did so, and he gave me 6d. for the job"—Berry asked him if he could describe the man—he said "No, I can't; I don't think I should know him again if I was to meet him"—Berry said "Was he tall; was he dark; anything like yourself?"—he said "He might be as tall as myself, but I don't think I should know the man if I was to see him again"—Berry then told him who he was, and said that he should take him into custody—the prisoner said "There is a person here named Robinson, I very much wish to speak to; will you allow me to go inside to him?"—Berry said "Certainly not; he can be brought out to you"—I stepped into the house, and said that a person named Robinson was wanted outside—when Robinson came out I did not perceive that any communication was exchanged between them, but some two minutes were consumed by a kind of dumb colloquy—the prisoner wished to go to the urinal—he went round and returned, being in the detective's sight all the time—I noticed something in his hand, like the end of an envelope projecting—he tried to pass that to Robinson—the detective said "We will have no more of this"—we had a cab, ready, and he forced him into the cab—the prisoner resisted very much—a lot of roughs collected round the place, and I shouted for some more police—the cab door was closed but the window was open, and the prisoner passed out something to Robinson—I had often seen the prisoner before on the premises—I rode to the station outside the cab, and the prisoner was charged at the station with being concerned in stealing some packages of tea—he said nothing that I remember.
Cross-examined. I learnt from his wife that he was to be found at the Castle public-house.
THOMAS BERRY . (Detective Officer P). I went with the last witness to the Castle public-house on the 20th of January—I saw Banks there—I have heard Doyle's evidence as to the conversation, and it is correct—I
took the parcel which the prisoner passed, to Robinson. from Robinson's pocket—I opened it at the police-station, and found it contained three 5l. notes, 5l. 10s. in gold, and 4l. in silver—I asked the prisoner if he could account for the possession of the money, he hesitated for a moment, and said, "Yes, I received it for my wife for washing done"—I found 6s. on him—I afterwards went to 299, Old Kent Road, where Bowers lived—I found two books there.
Cross-examined. When I told him I should have to take him to the station he said he was willing to go—he has never had back the money which was taken from him.
JAMES RYAN . I am gate-keeper at Messrs. Scovell's—on the 16th of January I saw the prisoner leave with, a truck with nine boxes of tea—while he was receiving them I asked him how many he wanted—he said he wanted nine boxes for Mr. Bowers—I said "Where is Mr. Bowers' trap?"—he said "A gentleman borrowed it to go to the West End"—he went away with the boxes on the barrow—the barrow belonged to Walker, 129 snow's Fields, Bermondsey—that was cut on the right hand side of it—I know Bowers—I have seen him come to the wharf with the prisoner—I don't know where he lives—it was a fortnight or three weeks before that I saw him with Bowers.
Cross-examined. I did not tell my employers that the tea had gone away in a harrow—it is an every day occurrence for teas, to got away in that way.
ARTHUR MACK . I live at Greenwood Road, Dalston, and am cashier at the National Provincial Bank, Threadneedle Street—this cheque for 29l. 18s. was presented to me and paid it in five 5l. notes, numbered 75, 160, to 73, and 4l. 18s. in gold and silver—those are three of the notes—they bear the same numbers.
CHARLES WATSON TYLER . I live, at Clarendon Road, Walthamstow, and am cashier to Mr. Ashley—on 20th January I received five 5l. notes and the balance of the cheque from Strachan—I gave the whole of that money to Robinson in payment of six bags of coffee sweepings.
SIMON ROBINSON . I am a Carman at William Grove's, Aylesbury Street, Walworth—I know a man named Bowers, who lived at 299, Old Kent Road—I knew him as living there—I also know the prisoner—he is a carman—I have seen him in Bowers' company—I don't know, what business Bowers carried on—I received from Mr. Tyler five 5l. notes and some gold and silver on 20th January, and I handed them to Mr. Bowers between 1 and 2 o'clock that day, in the Kent Road—I paid him for some coffee which he had sold me—he never sold me any tea—I only had that one transaction with him—I received the money from Ashley for some coffee I had got from Bower and sold to him—I was outside the public-house when the prisoner was taken into custody—something was put into my pocket by the prisoner—he did not say anything when he put it there—Berry took it from me.
Cross-examined. I don't know Bowers' Christian, name—I think it is Arthur—he signed his name A.—I did not take the numbers of the notes.
J. G. DOYLE (re-examined). The value of the tea was 17l. without duty—the duty would be 6d. a pound, and amounted to 4l. odd.
The Prisoner received a good character— GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his good character.
Nine Months Imprisonment.
265. JAMES BANKS was again indicted for stealing 9 boxes and 180 pounds of tea, and also for forging and uttering an authority for the delivering of 9 boxes and 180 pounds of tea, with intent to defraud.
MR. STRAIGHT, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM GRAHAM MCDOUGALL . I am a ship's captain, and live at 9, East India Road—on Saturday night, 24th February I wan in Commercial Road, about 9 o'clock—the prisoner came up to me and made a grab at my watch and Albert chain, and ran up the street with them—the watch was worth twenty two guineas—I ran after him round Arbour Square, and lost sight of him—my sister was with me—I am sure the prisoner is the man.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see the watch in my hand? A. No.
ELIZABETH MCDOUGALL . I am the prosecutor's sister—I was coming along the Commercial Road with him—the prisoner came up to his left hand side, took his watch, and ran up Arbour Street East, and I ran after him.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see the watch in my hand? A. No—I saw you snatch it—I believe there was a man stopped in the square, but he was not the man.
EDWARD WOOLS (Superintendent K). On Saturday night, 24th February, about 9 o'clock, I was in the Commercial Road—as I turned into Arbour Square I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I turned round and saw the prisoner running towards me rapidly—I attempted to take hold of him by the collar, but was unable to do so—he had his hands out and attempted to push me down—the force of the collision knocked his cap off—he did not wait to pick it up, but kept on running—I pursued and called out "Stop thief!"—he ran round three sides of the square, up Arbour Street East, into Charles Street, where I lost sight of him—I saw him soon afterwards in custody at the police-station—he had run by there—when I saw him I said "That is the man, and he very near knocked me down"—the prisoner replied "Yes, and you knocked my cap off"—I sent for the cap, it was brought in by a constable, and he claimed it and put it on in the dock—it was then partly covered with mud.
Prisoner. I ran round the corner so fast that I could not help running up against you. Witness. No—you were close to me—I did not see anything in your hand—it was about forty yards from where the robbery took place that you came in collision with me.
GEORGE LAMBERT (Thames Policeman 41). I was in Arbour Street East on 24th February, about 9 o'clock—I was walking along in plain clothes, and heard cries of "Stop thief!" near the corner of Arbour Square—I saw the prisoner running rapidly towards me, and gave cause to him—I followed him into Charles Square, calling out as I went—a man came out of a shop and stopped him just round the corner—I took him into custody, and just as I got him away he kicked me in the groin.
Prisoner's Defence. The policeman never found anything on me. I am sorry, and throw myself on the mercy of the Court.
GUILTY .—He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted cut Worship Street, in December, 1870.— Two Years' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Friday, March 1st, 1872.
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and DR. KENEALEY, Q. C., with MR. FINLAY, the defence.
EDWARD BRYANT . I live at 56, Royston Street, and am a gardener—on Thursday, February 1st, between 9 and 10 in the morning, I was present at an altercation between the prisoner and her mother, about the removal of the prisoner's furniture from Park House, Approach Road, Victoria Park—the prisoner was very Violent, and held up a decanter to attempt to strike her mother several times; that was in the drawing-room—I went down stairs and came up again, and the deceased said, in the prisoner's presence, "She has beat me, she has struck me"—the prisoner took no notice—the quarrel had commenced in the bedroom, and they came down and continued it in the drawing-room, where the attempts strike her were—I don't remember where the words were used—I did not pay that correct attention—I think it was down stairs, in the kitchen.
Cross-examined. I had been in Mrs. Aria's service over three years—I remember the prisoner's marriage with her present husband—after that marriage Mrs. Aria became very angry and excited against her, she used to fly into constant fits of passion about it—I remember the prosecution which Mrs. Aria instituted against Portbury's mother, and I remember perfectly well that it was at the prisoner's suggestion—Mrs. Aria was very excited about that prosecution—there was then a prosecution against Portbury himself, which the old lady interfered in—for a month or six weeks before this affair she was more than usually excited, and she bad very great ground for it, in as much as the prisoner was her perpetual annoyance; she did all she could to vex and annoy her, instead of removing quietly—on the Wednesday night the old lady was quarrelling with the prisoner, and was in a very violent temper—I interfered—she was not calling her very particularly dreadful names, I believe she called her nasty names now and then; they were not particular on either side as regards that—I don't know that Mrs. Portbury did not go to bed all night—I know that she wished to let in her husband at 10 o'clock—I slept on the sofa—I don't remember her coming down in the morning and saying "For God's sake let me out, she is quiet now,"—it is quite likely—both the street doors were fastened—I was the most likely person to unfasten them, but I don't remember doing it—she went out—when she came back she wanted me to help her, and I refused—Mrs. Aria said "You shan't help her; I pay you, so you are my servant"—the prisoner did not claim the protection of the police—a policeman was there—I sent for him, and he advised her to go—that was about half-past 10 o'clock on the Thursday morning—the prisoner had then been there some time claiming her furniture—she did not claim the assistance of the policeman in moving it—it was the deceased that claimed his assistance—the police were very insulting—the deceased said "She is mad, take her away," and the policeman said "I think you are all mad," and went away—he knew the law better than I did, and would not interfere—I don't remember him saying "You may summons her to the Magistrate, and she will have to pay treble the value"—something of the sort was said—I
might have said to Mrs. Aria "Why don't you give Mrs. Portbury her things, what is the good of all this row?"—I did say so—nothing was said about a Magistrate, if so I should recollect it—what Mrs. Aria said about having been beaten, was about half-past 10 o'clock, in the kitchen—I can't remember whether it was before or after the police came—I know very well that my evidence won't be taken unless there are marks of blows—I don't think anyone else was present but the prisoner's son, and other witnesses will prove that his evidence is not fit to be taken; he contradicted the first evidence he gave—it was a common thing for the deceased to complain of having been beaten by her daughter in various ways, up to the time of her death; sometimes it was a decanter, sometimes it was a poker—I won't swear that anybody was present but myself when the words were used—the prisoner was not in the kitchen at the time, she was between the kitchen and the passage, moving her things, I don't think she did hear it; perhaps she did not want to hear it—I noticed in the course of the day that the old lady was very unsteady on her legs.
Re-examined. I noticed that as soon as she got up—that was after the prisoner had left—the prisoner married Portbury about four or five months ago—the prosecution against his mother was shortly after the marriage—the prosecution against Portbury was commenced about three months back.
By the Jury. The prisoner attempted to strike her mother with the decanter several times—she held it near her forehead, in that way, in the right way to do an injury—I prevented it—that was in the drawing-room on the Thursday morning—the deceased was standing up in the kitchen when she said she had been beaten—she did not appear to be in pain or suffering when she said it—if she had had blows it did not injure her—she did not appear to be Buffering from any recent blow.
ANN FRASER . I live at 19, Ann Street—on the 1st of February, about 9 o'clock, I was in the kitchen of Park House during a quarrel between Mrs. Aria and the prisoner, about the removal of furniture—I was servant to Mrs. Portbury—I have been thirteen years in the family—I was with her in her first husband's time—during the quarrel I saw the prisoner hold a decanter up to her mother's face, but it never touched her—she held it by the neck, and she spit in her face—I saw no blow struck on either side—I was there when Mrs. Portbury left, about 12 o'clock—that was the first time I knew of her leaving the house that day—I was about the house all the day—Mrs. Aria went about the house well enough all the day—about 9 o'clock at night I went into her bedroom, and found her lying all in a heap, behind the door, in the corner at the foot of the bed—she had been vomitting—I spoke to her, but she did not seem to move—I called Bryant and he and I together lifted her on to the bed—about 10 o'clock she went down stairs with my assistance, and went into the kitchen—there are three flights of stairs from the bedroom and the kitchen—she remained in the kitchen about half an hour, and Bryant and I then assisted her upstairs again—I did not sleep in the house, Bryant did, in the kitchen—I went home and returned next morning about 9 o'clock—she was then lying on the bed, with her clothes on—Bryant and I led her down, she was drawn all on one side, she could not walk straight—she was straight enough the day before—on Saturday, 3rd, Mr. Brotheron was sent for, and on the Sunday, Mrs. Bray the nurse came.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Aria was 70 years of age; I think she was of a very violent temper when put out—her husband was obliged to separate
from her in consequence of her violent temper—the Wednesday was the day that Mr. Portbury was to have been tried here—I came to the Court that day—Mrs. Aria, was very angry with me for shaking bands with him—she worked herself into a violent rage and said "That old b—(meaning me) shook hands with that stable-boy"—I said "He has never done me any harm, and I don't see why I should not shake hands with him;" she continued in a very excited state all that Wednesday—we got home from the Court about 2 o'clock, or between 2 and 3 o'clock—I can't say that I ever saw her drunk—I know she kept rum in her bedroom—when she was excited she used to throw her arms about very much—I was there on Thursday morning—Mrs. Aria was very angry about the removal of the things, and worked herself into a great rage, and when the prisoner left she, ran out of the house after her—there was some very valuable old-fashioned china belonging to the late Dr. Meldola, which the prisoner asked me to count; I did count it, there were twelve pieces; she said she was afraid they might be pawned, as other things had been pawned—I know there were a good many things pledged—that observation greatly excited the old lady—I was there the whole time that Mrs. Portbury was removing her things—I was no blow struck—I don't believe she meant to strike the old lady when she took up the decanter—she went away about 11 o'clock, and did not come back—I remained in the house all the day, till I went home at night, between 9 and 10 o'clock—I did not see a bit of difference in Mrs. Aria the whole of that day, from what I had seen on other days—it was on the Thursday night that I found her lying behind the door; she was not in a fit then; I think she had a fit during the-night, because next morning when I went up to her she was trying to get off the bed, and she could not—I think the alteration in her appearance arose from something that happened in the night—I don't remember saying before the Coroner that a little run would affect her.
COURT. Q. Who were in the kitchen when you saw the prisoner with the decanter in her hand? A. Nobody but me, Mrs. Aria and the prisoner—Bryant was not there—I was standing alongside Mrs. Aria—the family consisted of three small children, Mrs. Aria and me, Mrs. Portbury and Bryant—the property that Mrs. Portbury was taking away was her own.
LEWIS MELDOLA . I am now stopping at 2, Heneage Lane—I am nearly twelve years old—the prisoner is, my mother—on Thursday, the; 1st, of February, I was in the kitchen at Park House, when there was a quarrel between my mother and grandmother—I only saw my mother spit in my grandmother's face—it was about 10 or 11 o'clock in the morning—I did not see my mother do anything else—I saw her lift up a poker, it did not touch anybody—she took it from the fire-place—this is it (produced)—she took it up like this—it did touch my grandmother, but it could not hurt a fly—mamma just touched her on the back, grandma then took up a broom and pursued my mamma with it upstairs into the drawing-room—I went up shortly after and found them still quarrelling—there was nobody in the room at that time but my mother and grandmother—mamma just took a decanter up from a shelf, and held it like this by the neck, and put it down again directly—grandmamma was following close behind her—the poker was left down in the kitchen—we afterwards all went into the parlour—there was some quarrelling there—my mamma afterwards left the house with some furniture in a van—I saw my grandmother fall after that, about an hour or two after my mamma left—she stumbled like into the parlour,
and she went to the cheffonier and got some rum—she got off the sofa and staggered and knocked her head against the door—she got the rum from the cheffonier in the parlour and poured out about a quartern—I know it was rum because she never drank anything else—the parlour in on the same floor as the kitchen.
Cross-examined. My grandmother took up a decanter to my mamma and I said to her "Grandmamma put it down"—she took it up and held it up for a few minutes—that was in the drawing-room—she did put it down, but not the first time—I told her two or three times—that was not the same decanter my mother took up, a different one—after that they went into the parlour—my grandmother was very violent there, she was using bad language—I remember mamma taking down two little pictures of her own in the parlour—grandmamma was very violent upon that, and smashed a tumbler, and said, "Take that, you b—h," when she chased my mother with the broom she did not hit her, she touched her the same as mamma touched her with the poker, slightly—mamma ran out of the room after that, and grandmamma chased her upstairs, and there it was she took up the decanter—my grandmamma took up the decanter first—Bryant was not in the room when the decanters were taken up—that was in the drawing-room, about 10 o'clock—mamma left about half-past 10 o'clock—grandmamma ran out into the street after her and used bad language, and tried to bring a crowd—it was about 11 o'clock, or a little after that I saw her drink some rum—she had some cooper at dinner-time, about 1 o'clock—it was about half an hour after having the rum that she staggered and fell against the door—she struck her head against the kitchen door, against the middle part, the edge, it was open—she did not fall to the ground, because Bryant came and helped her—he pushed her up and she lay on the sofa again—she had some more rum in the evening—she took it from a round bottle—I noticed that it was emptied and filled that day, sometimes it was tilled two or three times a day; it held a quartern—I saw her take half-a-quartern in the morning, she finished it, and in the evening she sent Bryant for a quartern—before this row began, she used to have it in by the bottle full—she had some cooper for her supper in the evening, about 8 o'clock—she was in the habit of keeping rum in her bedroom—I noticed that day that she frequently went between the kitchen and her bedroom—I don't think she was sober that evening—I have sometimes seen her under the influence of drink in the morning, and I have said to her "Grandmamma, you should not get drunk so often"—after she fell against the door, she complained of having hurt her head.
WILLIAM CHAPMAN (Policeman). I was in Company with Inspector Honey when the prisoner was taken into custody on 17th February—he told her she was charged with causing the death of her mother—she said she was innocent—I fetched a cab, and took her to the Station—she said several times in the cab that she was innocent.
Cross-examined. I don't know where the policeman is who was called in when the altercation took place—I don't know who he is—he was not examined before the Magistrate or the Coroner.
WILLIAM HENRY BROTHERTON . I am a surgeon, of 289, Cambridge Road, Bethnal Green—I knew the deceased, Mrs. Aria, for the last few months—I had been her medical attendant—I saw her the day previous to 1st February, and I had also seen her on the Monday—on the Wednesday morning I saw her at my surgery, she then appeared healthy and robust—
on Saturday morning, 3rd February, about 11 o'clock, I was called to see her—she was then in an excited state, and prostrate—she remained in that conditition until the 11th—on that day I found her in a state of insensibility, or coma—she continued in that condition until her death, which took place on the 15th, at 12 o'clock at night—I made post-mortem examination the evening following—there was a slight adhesion of the right pleura, and the liver was spongy—that was the result of age—there was nothing in the heart or liver to account for death—I opened the skull and examined the brain, it was congested throughout; there was no external appearance on the scalp—the membranes of the brain were in a highly congested condition, and between the membranes and the right hemisphere there was a small clot of blood, about the size of a crown piece—it was very thin and flat, I dare say it was not more than a drachm in weight—on removing the brain, beneath the right hemisphere, there was about two ounces of extravasated blood—that was blood that had oozed out of some ruptured vessel—that oozing had been going on from Sunday, the 11th—I should not think it could have commenced on the 1st, or the Symptoms of compression would have ensued earlier—when I was first called in to attend her, I did not observe anything that would indicate pressure on the brain, she was suffering more from a nervous shock and excitability, which she appeared to rally from—the coma did not come on till the Sunday—the cause of death was extravasation of blood on the base of the brain, that which I saw above and that which I saw below, might, and probably did, arise from the same cause.
Cross-examined. The coats of the vessels of the brain were flabby—the liver was in such a condition that I could break it in pieces without any trouble, that is not a Symptom which I should expect to find in a person who has indulged in drink; I should expect a hardened liver, a nutmegy appearance, not spongy—the liver was not healthy, the state of it would not be produced by any blow recently given; it indicated a diseased constitution; the vessels of persons of that habit and age become brittle and liable to rupture on a fit of excitement—there was nothing in the condition of the brain inconsistent with her having ruptured a blood vessel through excitement—there was nothing to enable me to say with certainty that it was due to violence—if a heavy blow was struck with this decanter I should expect it would leave a mark, but not necessarily—I never saw any signs of stimulants about her; if she had been in the habit of taking stimulants that would increase the brittleness of the vessels, and coupled with age would make it likely for injury to occur sooner—I think that blood first began to effuse from the broken vessels on the 11th—had effusion commenced before, there would have been other Symptoms—there were two escapes, the thin one and the 1 1/2 oz or 2oz.—if a blow sufficient to cause that had been given by this decanter I should almost think it would have been broken to pieces—if such a blow had been given on the 1st I should consider that insensibility would have commenced at once, from concussion—I have never known a case where after a blow of such a description a person has pursued their ordinary avocations for ten days without exhibiting signs of insensibility—if the blow was violent enough to produce such an injury as I saw at the base of the skull, in my judgment it would be followed by Symptoms of the brain having been injured—such a knock on the back as the boy has described would not produce anything at all like the Symptoms I saw—habits of drinking would increase the probability that excitement would cause the rupture of a vessel, apart from violence.
Re-examined. When I saw-her on the 3rd she was suffering from a shock—I did not associate any brain Symptoms with that shock—I did not find brain Symptoms till the 11th—these might have arisen from excitement—she had some law proceedings pending at that time, and was very excited about them.
ANN BRAY . I was called in to nurse Mrs. Aria on Sunday, 11th February, as she died on the Thursday; Dr. Brotherton sent me—she was then lying on a couch in the kitchen—I moved her into the parlour—next morning she made some Statements to me—I nursed her until she died.
THOMAS HONEY (Police Inspector). I was in Company with Chapman when the prisoner was taken into custody—I said she must consider herself in custody for causing the death of her mother—she said "I am innocent; this is done out of spite, because I married a Christian"—she repeated many times over that she was innocent.
NOT GUILTY .
EDWARD CHURCH . I am the father of the deceased, and reside at 116, Pratt Street, St. Pancras—on Saturday evening, 17th February, I started from my house with a baked potato oven, on wheels—I was dragging it, and my two sons were behind—the deceased and his brother—previous to starting I saw the prisoner about twenty yards behind me, with a horse and cart, which was then standing still behind some trucks—I was dragging my truck three feet from the kerb, on my left—when I had got about twenty yards from my house, which would be forty yards from where the prisoner was, his horse and cart dashed in between me and the kerb, knocking one son down under the horse's feet, and killing the other—I did not see the cart bearing down upon me in time to get out of the way, it was done so momentarily—the cart caught the oven as well, and drove me with it—the prisoner had both reins in his hand, drawing up—the elder boy scrambled out, and was picked up—he was not hurt anything to speak of, only his knee—the deceased, Albert, was carried away by a boy to a doctor's, close by—the prisoner got out of his cart and went over to the doctor's with me, and the boy was lying there, a corpse.
COURT. Q. Was there room enough between the wheels of your truck and the kerb, for the prisoner's cart? A. No, only just room for the horse to get in, not the cart, because of the oven—there was not nothing on the other side; it is a good wide road, about thirty feet—there was nothing to prevent his going on that side, there was plenty of room for three or four carts—the prisoner deemed quite sober—he said that he could not help it, or something of that sort—the deceased was a very healthy boy, he never had a day's illness.
JOHN SAMUEL JAGO . I live at 122, Pratt Street—on Saturday afternoon, 17th February, I saw the potato oven—Mr. Church was dragging it by the handles, and the two boys were shoving behind—it was about a yard from the kerb; it in a pretty broad road; there was room for the cart to have passed easily on its right side—I saw the prisoner before the collision, he was, standing up in his cart, driving—he was going tremendously fast—I did not notice what he was doing—I saw the horse and cart come rushing on the left hand side of the oven—it nearly knocked the oven over, knocked the two boys down, and the wheel went over the little boy's jaw and killed
him—I saw him bleeding—there was nothing to prevent the prisoner seeing the oven—it was about 5.30—it was light—the prisoner could easily have seen the truck.
COURT. Q. You were on the opposite side of the road? A. Yes, there was nothing between the prisoner's cart and the oven—there were no trucks there.
EDWARD CHURCH (re-examined). The trucks were lower down than my house, not between me and the prisoner—I can't say at what rate he was going, but it must have been very fast; it threw me right forward—I was like between the shafts of the truck—if I had known that anything was coming I could have turned and got out of the way.
CHARLES TAYLOR (Detective Officer Y). I took the prisoner into custody about 6.30, in the evening of 17th February, at the Star Coal Wharf, Camden Town, when he came in with a light cart and horse—I told him I should take him into custody for causing the death of the child Church—he said "I am very sorry for it; I went to deliver some coals at Waite's Place, Pratt Street; after I had delivered them I got up on to the shafts, and the horse galloped off; I took out my orders to see where I was to deliver the next lot, and I never saw the oven till I ran into it."
CHARLES CHURCH . I am the brother of the deceased—I was pushing behind the potatoe oven, and my brother by the side of me—the horse knocked me down—I scrambled from under my father's feet and saved myself—my brother was killed dead on the spot—I did not hear any band of music playing at the time—half an hour before we started there was a band, but it was all clear out of the street before we started—that could not have frightened the horse—I did not see the prisoner till he dashed into us.
Prisoner's Defence. I can only say that the pony started off.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.
A Fortnights's Imprisonment.
MESSRS. BESLEY and DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. GRIFFITHS and HARRIS the Defence.
One of the Jurors in this case being taken with an epileptic fit, they were discharged without giving any verdict, and the case postponed until next Session.
NEW COURT.—Friday, March 1st, 1872.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
271. JOHN ALEXANDER BARNES to unlawfully Publishing certain obscene books.— To enter into his own recognizances to come up and receive judgment if called upon. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
received a parcel at 12, Old Jewry Chambers, from Mr. Jepson one of our travellers—it was addressed "W. Burnet, Durham"—I took it to the Cross Keys, paid for the booking, and delivered it to Duperry, at 6 o'clock—I did not see the watch.
JAMES THOMAS DUPERRY . I am receiving clerk at the Cross Keys, in the employ of Chaplin and Horne—on 4th January, at a little before 6 o'clock, I received from Pierpoint a parcel addressed to Mr. Burnet, of Durham—I entered it on the way bill and gave it into the Charge of Rope, the conductor of the omnibus which carries parcels from the Cross Keys to Euston Square Station.
GEORGE ROPE . I am omnibus conductor, No. 2, 203, and am in the service of Chaplin and Horne—on 4th January, shortly after 6 o'clock, I received from Duperry a certain number of parcels, among which was one addressed to Mr. Burnet, of Durham.
HENRY JONES . I am a clerk in the London and North Western Railway parcels office, Euston Square—it is my duty to receive parcels and check each off, according to the items in the way bill—I found that a parcel addressed to Mr. Burnet, of Durham, was missing.
CHARLES PUCHEY . I am clerk to Statham and Son, Old Jewry Chambers—on 4th January I delivered a watch in a packet to Pierpoint, I believe, addressed to Mr. Burnet of Durham; this is it (produced) it is worth 32s. trade price.
DAVID GOULD . I keep a lodging-house at 9, Market Street, Fitzroy Square—Thomas lodged there three or four weeks, and Adams three or four months previous to 4th January—I never noticed previous to 5th January that they were acquainted with one another—on the night of January 4th Thomas asked me to take charge of this watch till next morning—he said that he had been over to his brother at Blackheath, but did not see him; that his brother had lent him 10s. on that watch some time ago, and he saw his wife, who gave him back the watch, and told him he could pay the 10s. when he got into work again—I put it into my desk, and delivered it to him next morning—Adams followed him out—on the 7th Thomas left with me this duplicate of a watch pawned for 1l. 5s.—they had both slept there on the 5th and 6th—they have never been back since the 7th.
Cross-examined. I believed the story Thomas told me about the watch—he gave me the watch as security for his lodging, and I believed it had been honestly come by—there is no reason why Adams should not have believed the same.
Cross-examined. It is not unusual for persons to pledge in the name of Smith, or Williams, or any other name.
ADAMS— NOT GUILTY .
THOMAS PLEADED GUILTY .
CORNELIUS STOCTON PALMER . I represent Mr. Sewell, of Cornhill—on 9th January I packed these four hooped diamond rings in a small box, at the top of a cigarette box—this (produced) is the shape of one of them, and here are some of the loose brilliants which have all been picked out—one ring is complete as I packed it—there were five brilliants in each ring, which
made twenty—there are still seven missing—to the best of my judgment these stones came out of the rings, they are the same size and shape and colour—the parcel was to be taken to the Spread Eagle, to go by railway to Liverpool, between 5 and 6 on the evening of 9th January—it was worth 120l.
Cross-examined. I identify the ring—it has our private mark inside—we have two houses, one in London and one in Liverpool.
THOMAS CARROLL . I am managing clerk at the Spread Eagle Booking Office, Gracechurch Street—on 9th January, at 5.30 or 6 o'clock I received a parcel addressed "J. Sewell and Co., Liverpool," 2d. was paid for booking—I entered it in the way-bill, and put it with other parcels into the omnibus of which Rope was conductor.
WILLIAM RICE . I am clerk at Euston Square Station parcels office—on 9th January I received from Rope, the conductor of the omnibus from the Spread Eagle, the way-bill of the parcels which he carried—I compared the items on the way-bill with the parcels, and found that No. 39, a parcel for Sewell, of Liverpool, was missing—that was just after 7 o'clock.
CHARLES BURNET . I am manager to Mr. Griffiths, pawnbroker and jeweller, of 88, Ossulston Street, Euston Road—on 11th January Adams pledged a loose brilliant for 1l., in the name of John Wilson—on the 12th he came again and had another 1l. upon it—he said that he was a dealer in watches and rings and stones, he told me the weight of the stone, one grain and a-half, which it does weigh—on the 13th January Thomas asked me to purchase a half-hoop diamond ring—I said "No"—he then offered me one for 30l.—this is it—I refused to buy it—he put it on the counter and said "Lend me 5l. in an emergency, and I will redeem it presently"—after he was gone I looked at the ring and saw a private mark, numbers, and letters, in consequence of which I communicated with the police—I waited for Thomas to come in the evening for the rest of the money, but he never came.
EDWARD JOSEPH PLATTS . I am assistant to Mr. Boyce, pawnbroker, of 51, Theobald's Road—I produce a brilliant, pledged on 12th January, about 12 o'clock, by the prisoner Adams, who said he wanted to borrow 25s. on it—I took it to the manager, who told me to advance 15s.—Adams said that it was a very good stone, and that he lived just round the corner in Lamb's Conduit Street, and was in the trade—he pledged it in the name of John Williams.
FREDERICK WALKER . I am assistant to Mr. Clark, pawnbroker, of 55, Long Acre—on 10th January Adams pledged a loose brilliant in the name of Williams—I have known him twelve months as a dealer in jewellery—about a month afterwards he came and offered me two seals—I sent for a constable and gave him into custody—I know him as a dealer, what we call a duffer, a person who offers spurious articles to pawnbrokers for the purpose of taking them in.
Cross-examined. I have known him twelve months dealing in jewellery, and offering jewellery in pledge, some of which was good.
RICHARD JONES . I am assistant to Mr. McCarthy, pawnbroker, of 205, Caledonian Road—on 10th January Adams came about 4 o'clock and offered a single loose brilliant; he asked 1l. on it, but said that 15s. would do—I had never seen him before—he pledged it in the name of Williams.
CHARLES WILLIAM SHEPHERD . I am assistant to Mr. Smith, a pawnbroker, of 1, Upper Street, Islington—on 12th January, between 5 and 6 p.m., I lent Adams 1l. on a loose brilliant, in the name of Williams.
WILLIAM HENRY COLEY . I am assistant to Mr. Coley, of 178, Essex Road, Islington, pawnbroker—I produce a diamond, pledged on 15th January for 15s., in the name of John Phillips—I do not know who by—I was present, but have no belief about the prisoner.
CHARLES BURNET (re examined). On 12th January the prisoners came together and purchased two coats—we are outfitters as well—that was when the extra 1l. was taken on the brilliant—Thomas had some money, and paid me with a sovereign, and Adams had the extra money on the stone—they seemed to know each other—they were friendly.
ROBERT PACKMAN (City Detective Sergeant). From information I received, I went with another officer, on 31st January, to 27, King Street, Drury Lane, a lodging-house for the poorer classes—I there found Thomas in bed, and took him in custody—on 10th February I found Adams in custody at Bow Street police-station—I told him I was a police-officer, and asked him his name—he said "William Adams"—I said "I have a party in custody for stealing a box of diamond rings of Sewell's, of Cornhill, booked at the Spread Eagle; he tells me that he did steal them, but did not pledge them himself, he gave them to you to pledge for him"—he said "That is quite correct; I did pledge several stones for Thomas"—I told him that a parcel had also been stolen containing a watch which he had pledged at Ossulston Street on the 5th—he said "That is quite correct; I did pledge the watch"—I said that he must consider himself in custody for being concerned with Thomas in stealing them—he said that he was not aware it was stolen property—I am informed that he has been a pawnbroker's assistant, and that his name is Herbert—he gave his address at Vincent's Coffee-house, Westminster, but he was not known there.
ADAMS— GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
THOMAS— Two Years' Imprisonment.
GEORGE LINDSAY . I am a fitter, of 23, Waddington Road—on the night of February 23rd, about 11.30, I went into a court in Shoreditch, to make water—a man who was in the public-house came after me—while I stood waiting for my friend he put his hand into my waistcoat pocket, where my watch was, and I put my hand on my waistcoat pocket to stop him from taking it—he ran away into the entry which I had left, and I after him—we met the prisoner, who held me against the wall, and put his hand on my mouth, while the other one, who had been in the public-house, took my purse from my trowsers pocket, containing a half-sovereign and three or four shillings—I called out, and two policemen came up—I did not lose sight of the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I had seen my money safe about eight minutes before, in the public-house—I know exactly what it contained, because I got paid at 5.30 that evening—I have not said that it contained 2l. 2s.—I did not tell the policeman so, and I do not think I heard him say that I did—the court is twelve yards wide—I ran about twenty yards after the man who attempted my watch before I met the prisoner—if one of the witnesses has said that the prisoner followed me into the court, he is mistaken, I think—I am sure I know exactly what took place—I was not drunk—I received my pay at Stratford at 5.30 that day, 30s., and the rest of the money I had before—that was for a week—it was Friday night—I then went home—I did not go to a public-house—I drank nothing at home but tea—I met a friend at the station; we had arranged that—I went to the Cambridge Music Hall at 7.50 or 7.45, and had something to drink, and smoked—I stayed there till a little after 11 o'clock, and afterwards went with my friend to a public-house opposite Shoreditch station—we had one pint between us—no women were with us—we stayed there about ten minutes, and saw the other man there, but not the prisoner—the court is about as wide as that jury-box—it is an archway, and will let one cart down, but not two—I was walking perfectly straight—I ran after the man who attempted my watch—I did not take hold of the prisoner—he shoved his shoulder against me—he did not strike me—he took hold of me by the throat.
JAMES HODSON . I live at 54, Weston Street; I was with Lindsay; on the night of 22nd February; he was sober—we had been to a music hall, and then into a public-house and had a pint of ale—I saw a young man there—Lindsay followed him out and went across the court to make water, the man followed him and I heard him halloa out that somebody had been trying to take his watch—I went across the street as soon as I could, and two policemen laid hold of the prisoner—Lindsay calls me Jimmy.
Cross-examined. I had not seen the prisoner in the public-house—I had not seen him before.
GARRETT MONRO PEARCE (Policeman G 260). On 23rd February I was on duty in Shoreditch, and heard a smothered cry, and then "Jimmy, Jimmy, I am robbed"—I rushed across and saw the prosecutor extricating himself from the prisoner—he rushed up a court; I seized him, we had a struggle for a few minutes, and he said "I know nothing at all about it; he shoved against me and I struck him in self-defence"—I took him to the station; he was searched and 5d. was found on him—when I got up the prosecutor said that he had lost 2l. 3s.; he had been drinking, but was sober—he was excited and I might make a mistake.
JOHN SKEATE . I am a watchmaker, in the employ of Lines and Son, 193, Shoreditch—on the evening of 23rd February, I saw the prisoner and another man go into Bides Place, the one not in custody went in first, and the prisoner followed him directly—I saw the prisoner force the prosecutor against the wall, and heard him call out—I did not see either of them pick his pocket.
Cross-examined. I am sure the prisoner went in last from the street—I went over when I heard the prosecutor cry out—I was 20 or 30 yards away—the court is narrow at the beginning—the whole transaction only occupied two or three minutes.
MORRIS O'CONNELL (Policeman G 119). On the night of 23rd February, I heard somebody call out, and saw the prisoner making a desperate resistance to escape from G 260—he said "I know nothing about it; I am not
going to run away; the other man did it all"—we took him to the station and found 5d. on him—the prosecutor had not got hold of the prisoner when I went up.
He was further charged with having been before convicted.
AMBROSE SUTTON . I produce a certificate from the office of the Clerk of the Peace for Middlesex—(Read: " John Duffy, convicted, March 1858, at Worship Street Police Court, on his own confession of stealing blankets and other articles.—Six Months' Imprisonment"). I had him in custody—the prisoner is the man—it is fourteen years ago, but I have seen him about since.
Cross-examined. I know that he has been a soldier—I have not heard that he has got his discharge—he was between 16 and 17, when he was convicted—I mean to say that he is upwards of 30; there is a scar on his forehead, and I know him well—I saw him next when he came out of prison, and again when he came back from soldiering twelve months ago.
The Prisoner handed to the Court his regimental papers in which his height (which did not transpire) was stated, saying that he was not fully grown when he entered the army, and that he had been a soldier six years.—
NOT GUILTY of the previous conviction.
Nine Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, March 1st, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
JAMES WILSON . I live at 21, Queen Square, Westminster, and am a tailor—on 2nd February, about 12.45 in the morning, I was going home, and as I passed Gardener's Lane I saw the two prisoners—the man came behind me and put his hands over my mouth—he then dragged the button off my coat, and dived for my watch—he put his knee on my spine and laid me in the road—the female prisoner said "Jim, have you got it?" and he said "No; I have not got at the b—yet"—my coat had been completely buttoned up—when I got rid of his arms I called "Police" and "Murder," and when I got up I did not see anyone, so I ran on home, and met a policeman at my own door—the prisoner did not get my watch—he took my chain—they both ran away when I got up, and I lost sight of them completely—I was called up about 2 or 3 o'clock that morning, and went to the police station at Rochester Row, where I identified the prisoners—they had my hat as well as my chain—I was slightly in liquor, but I was quite sensible, and knew what I was about—the man had dark whiskers, a Paisley scarf, and a wide-awake—the woman did not do anything, but she was there.
CECILIA COSTELLO . I am a charwoman, and live at Smith's Place—on 2nd February, about 1 o'clock in the morning, I was in York Street—I heard some one calling "Police!"—I went down as far as Gardener's Lane,
and saw the prosecutor on the ground, and the prisoners bending over him—the prosecutor got up, and then the male prisoner made a snatch at his chain—I am sure the female prisoner was there—I saw the prosecutor's hat in her hand—I did not hear what she said till she got down the court, and then she said "Have you got it?"—I did not hear what answer he made.
Clara. I said "Here is your hat"—Witness. You did say that.
THOMAS SAUNDERCOCK (Policeman B 215). I was in Chapel Street, on 2nd February, about 1 o'clock in the morning—I heard cries of "Police!" and ran down Gardener's Lane, into York Street—I looked about and saw the female prisoner look out of the door of 3, Gardener's Lane—I went towards the door, and she shut it in my face—I knocked, and the door was afterwards opened by one of the inmates—I went upstairs and knocked at the back bedroom door—the father, John Taylor (see next case) opened it, and I went into the room—I saw Thomas Taylor lying on the bed, with his clothes on, pretending to be asleep, and the female stood by the side of the fireplace—I said "I shall take you into custody for stealing the watch and chain"—Thomas jumped out of bed, and said "It was not me, sir, it is another man; I don't know anything about it"—I took him into York Street, when he became very violent, struck and kicked me several times—the female was also very violent—he then called for his father to come and help him—I told him he had better keep away and let the prisoner go quietly, but he laid hold of me by the neck, kicked me, and knocked me down several times—Thomas got away from me then—I tried to run after him, but the father knocked me down again—I saw Thomas go into 3, Gardener's Lane, and shut the door after him—I waited outside, and he came out of No. 1.
Clara. He did not take me out of the room; I followed down, and it was me that rescued the prisoner in York Street; it was not the father at all.
JAMES HURST (Policeman B 313). I have heard the evidence of Saundercock, and I corroborate what he says—I was with him at the time—I took the female into custody for being concerned in the robbery—she did not say anything.
Clara's Defence. I never used any violence; I know nothing of the robbery; I had no intention of robbing him.
CLARA TAYLOR— GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment. THOMAS TAYLOR— Twelve Months' Imprisonment, and Forty Lashes with the Cat.
277. JOHN TAYLOR (50) , Unlawfully assaulting Thomas Saundercock and James Hurst, with intent to resist the apprehension of Thomas Taylor. Other Counts—Assaulting the same persons in the execution of their duty.
THOMAS SAUNDERCOCK (Policeman B 215). I saw the prisoner on the first floor, at 3, Gardener's Lane—I believe he is the father of the prisoners in the last case—whilst I had them in custody he came up, collared me by the throat, and knocked me down, and kicked me several times—after I had taken Thomas Taylor to the station, I came back about 5 o'clock, and took the prisoner—I found the prosecutor's hat in his room.
—I had hold of Thomas Taylor, and the prisoner came and put his hand between my cape and my throat, and almost choked me, and he kicked me several times—he got between me and Thomas Taylor, and got him away—I did not see him after till he was in the custody of Saundercock.
Prisoner's Defence. I have never been in any trouble before in my life—that last constable struck the female and I said "Don't knock them about." I never assaulted them in the least.
Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the natural desire to rescue his son.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. A. B. KELLEY conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH BROWN . I am the wife of John William Brown, and live at 24, Sutherland Street, Pimlico—I was upstairs on 24th January, about 4 o'clock in the afternoon and saw all the property which the police now have in their possession, safe—I went up about 7 o'clock, and missed the things: a counterpane, two shirts, one sheet, a jacket and other articles—the street door was locked that evening between 4 and 7 o'clock—I gave information to the police, and afterwards saw the things at the police-station—I did not know anything of the prisoner before.
ELIZABETH THOMPSON . I was living with the prisoner; about two or three days after I was so living with him, I went with him to Sutherland Street—I stopped opposite the house I now know as Mrs. Brown's—the prisoner opened the door with a key—after he had opened it, he came away to see that no one shut it, and then he went back and walked in—I waited outside till he came out—he came out with a bag full of things—we walked home together—he said "Walk quick, because I see a man coming"—he afterwards gave the clothes to me—this (produced) is the key he opened the door with—he made it himself with a little file.
Prisoner. Q. Did I give you the things? A. Yes, I took them home to your place first, and then I put them on and went home with them on.
EDWARD MARTIN . I live at Sutherland Street, Pimlico—on 24th January, about 5.15 o'clock, I was running down the area steps of Mrs. Brown's house—I saw a man come out of the street door with a large bundle on his back—I could not swear to the man, but I believe the prisoner is the man—he had on a pair of woman's shoes or a pair of goloshes.
GEORGE HUMPHREYS (Police Inspector B). I took the prisoner into custody on 31st January, at a lodging-house in New Peter Street—I searched him, and found two keys—in the room I found a bag and two more keys, and a file, and a pair of goloshes—I saw the girl at the police-station, and she was then wearing the clothes; but she went with me to the room where I took the prisoner—I tried this key in the door of Mrs. Brown's house, and it opened the door—that is one of the two keys which I found in his pocket.
was wearing that evening—after he came out of the house, he took them off, tied them up in a handkerchief, and put them in his pocket.
MR. E. DAVIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE BROWN the Defence.
ALBERT HYMASS . I am in the service of Mr. Edwards, of Clerkenwell—on the evening of 7th February, he sent me for a necklet—I got it, and was bringing it home in my bag—I had the bag by the neck, and put it under my jacket—when I got to the corner of Ashley Street, three men came up and put their hands over my mouth and eyes, and took the bag and necklet—the prisoner was one of them—I had seen them before—they followed me to the jeweller's shop—two of them came first, and one of them had a new pair of trowsers, and he said he was not coming in the mud—they kept beckoning for him to come—I went on the other side of Ashley Street, and the two were beckoning the other one to come up—the prisoner was one of them—after they had taken the bag and necklet, they ran down the street, and I ran too, calling "Stop thief!"—they did not hurt me—two ran down John Street Road, and one went down Corporation Lane—there was a crowd in John Street Road by the beer-shop, and the prisoner came back into the crowd, and a policeman took him.
Cross-examined. When I lost the necklet I told a policeman about it—I pointed the prisoner out in the crowd, and then the policeman took hold of him—the policeman said "Is that one of them?" and I said "Yes"—I saw the prisoner before in Whiskin Street—I should not know the other two again—I should know one of them—one of them had a pair of whitish trowsers on.
THOMAS GILL (Policeman G 302). About 7.45 on the night of 7th February I was in Corporation Row—there was a mob of people at the top—the boy ran round the corner with another constable, and the prisoner went into the crowd—the boy pointed to him, and said "He has robbed me of a necklet"—I told the prisoner I should take him into custody—he did not say anything.
Cross-examined. There was no other little boy there—the other policeman was not with me—I was by myself.
GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in March, 1870— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Dutnell.
THOMAS WHITFIELD . I am a clerk, and live at 65, Pigott Street, Lime-house—about 12 o'clock on Saturday night, 3rd February, I was in Flower and Dean street—I turned up Wilson Place, when I was surrounded by about a dozen thieves, who commenced to strike me—they pulled me by the hair, and knocked me down, and took the property mentioned from my pockets—I shouted as well as I could, and got from them—I saw some of them run to a house near where I was robbed—I ran out of the street, and met a policeman about fifty yards off, and returned with him—I found my
hat on the ground—we went into the house, and I saw Tyssen standing with the umbrella in his hand, and beside him there was one of the knives and a key—he dropped the umbrella and made for the door—I seized the property, and the policeman seized him—he said if we would let him go he would get the money—we took him towards the station, and were followed by a crowd of roughs—they set on us again, and for a while we had a fight—I was knocked down—I got up, and we succeeded in getting the prisoner to the station—I don't speak to the other prisoners at all.
MR. MOODY here withdrew from the prosecution against Dutnell and Roach.
Tyssen. Q. Do you identify me as one of those who were round you?—A. You are very like the man who pulled the umbrella out of my hand—it was a man of similar size and make.
JEREMIAH KELLER (Policeman H 155). I heard cries of "Police!" and saw the last witness—he was bareheaded at the time—it was in Wilson Place—I saw Tyssen run into a brothel in Wilson Place—he had an umbrella with him—I spoke to the prosecutor, and we went into the house—Tyssen was standing inside—he let the umbrella fall, and made a rush towards the door to get out, but I apprehended him—he said "If you will let me go I will tell you where the money is"—I took him towards the station—as I came down I met two constables, and told them to search the room—I ventured down Flower and Dean Street—we came up to about two dozen persons—the prisoner jumped, and said "Let me go"—that was a signal for the crowd to rescue him, and they rushed on me—we had a desperate struggle—Policemen 218 and 225 came to my assistance, and we got him to the station—5s. was found on him—the 7l. 10s. has not been recovered.
Prisoner. I did not say I could get the money; those were not the words I used at all.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I frequently visit a lady in the room where the umbrella was, and on Saturday night I picked it up off the floor, and when the constable came I dropped it again. I had no intention of stealing it when I picked it up; I did not know who it belonged to.
Prisoner's Defence. I am perfectly innocent of the charge.
TYSSEN— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
DUTNELL and ROACH— NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
GEORGE REEDMAN (Policeman H 218). On this Saturday I was assisting to take Tyssen to the station—we were surrounded by a mob of about 150 persons—I saw the prisoner violently assaulting the prosecutor—I went to his assistance, and Dutnell turned round and dealt me a fearful blow in the back, which knocked me down—the prisoner was knocked down by a brother constable, and then I got up and secured him—it appears that I was stabbed in the back with a knife—the knife lodged in my back till I got to the station—I am sure Dutnell is the man who struck me—he only gave me one blow—I was dressed as I am now, and the knife penetrated into my left shoulder—as we were going to the station he said "If you put me away this time, I will do for you."
Cross-examined. He said "I will do for you when I come out"—there
were about 150 people there, it was a very disorderly mob—there were brick-bats and things flying about—I heard Dutnell say "I saw a row, and as I was looking I was struck to the ground, and I was either stabbed behind the ear, or received a stone there, I don't know which"—he was knocked down by a constable—he said that at the Police Court the next day—he had a bit of a scratch on the ear.
Re-examined. I did not find that I was stabbed till I got to the station—I received the blow from the prisoner on the part where the knife was afterwards found.
WILLIAM MUSGROVE (Policeman H 25). I was assisting to take Tyssen into custody, and I saw Dutnell strike 218 in the back, and knock him down—I then knocked Dutnell down—I did not see the knife at that time, I did afterwards.
Cross-examined. I saw no knife in his hand—there was a great deal of confusion—there were about 150 people there—I did not set any stones flying about—they were very disorderly.
GEORGE BAGSTER PHILLIPS . I am a surgeon to the H Division—I examined the constable Reedman—he had a punctured wound under his right shoulder, which had penetrated through a great many thicknesses of cloth, and was such a wound as would have been inflicted by this knife—he was not seriously hurt—he healed in a few days.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
JEREMIAH KELLER (Policeman H 155). I took Tyssen into custody, and brought him out of the house in Wilson Place into the street—the mob gathered round—I saw the prisoner there—she caught hold of me by the coat, pinched me, and endeavoured to come between me and Tyssen—I cautioned her several times, but still she kept on and she shouted to the mob, "Brick the sod!"—there were no bricks or stones thrown at me—she endeavoured to push me away from Tyssen.
Prisoner. I don't know anything about it, I only followed the crowd.
WILLIAM MUSGROVE (Policeman H 25). I saw Roach in the mob—she caught hold of the last witness, and tried to pull Tyssen away from him, she kicked him and swore at him—I told her to get away but she would not, and she called on the crowd to pelt us with stones—I took her into custody outside the station.
GUILTY — Eight Months' Imprisonment.
THE COURT ordered Keller, Reedman, and Musgrove a reward of 2l. each.
The Prisoner PLEADED GUILTY to the second Count, and MR. MORGAN THOMAS offered no evidence upon the first Count — Five Years Penal Servitude.
GUILTY of the attempt — Two Years' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
THOMAS HUMPHREYS . I am a coach-builder, and live at 22, Park Street, West Ham—I was acquainted with the deceased, George Raymond, for fourteen or fifteen years—he was always a healthy man—he was thirty-one years of age—on February 16th he and I went down to Ilford upon velocipedes—we got there about 9.15 or 9.30 in the evening—I went to the Rose and Crown, kept by Mr. Milton—the deceased went further on, and returned to me at the Rose and Crown in about an hour and a half—he was then perfectly sober, and perfectly well—we remained there till closing time—we had three or four pints of 4d. half-and-half, I also had three 2d. worths of warmgin-and-water, and we each had one glass of rum—when we left we got on our velocipedes for the purpose of going home—we were sober enough to ride them—the deceased was quite capable—there had been no quarrelling or angry words between us that evening, or at any time all the years I have known him—it was a very dark night—we came away together, but I was before him, perhaps 100 yards—I was jogging along, and all of a sudden I found myself go over—I thought that I had run against something, or something had run against me, and as I was getting up I found a constable (the prisoner) had hold of my collar—he showed his lantern—I asked him if he had done it, and the reason he had done it—he said what was I making a disturbance there for?—I said I had made no disturbance, and I should go down to the police-station and report him—he shook me as well at the same time that he collared me—I called to my friend to mind the machines—I said "George, this policeman has been ill-using me, and I will go down to the station and report him for his conduct"—the prisoner said "The next man that comes up I will knock down"—there was no one there but the prisoner, Raymond, and myself—I then went straight away to the station—I made a complaint there to the inspector—the prisoner came in some few minutes afterwards with the deceased, and I said "That is the man"—I did not take particular notice how he had got the deceased, they were not walking separately, they were both together—he was being dragged like up the steps—when we left the public-house he was quite capable of walking—I did not hear the prisoner make any answer when I said "That's the man"—he said "That is his friend"—we were both put in the dock—he said he would charge us with being drunk and causing a disturbance, and we were locked up in the cell—no more notice was taken of my complaint—when I first went in I complained to the inspector that one of his men had been assaulting me—he asked if I knew the man—I said "No," and when the prisoner came in I said "That is the man"—I had been in two or three minutes before he came in—I believe my complaint was not taken down—I was talking to the inspector when the prisoner came in—when he saw me
he said "Oh, you are here then," and then he took hold of me, and put me in the dock—I was on the left-hand side of the road with my velocipede, the near side, coming towards London—there is no footpath on that side, only on the other side; there is a hedge and a sort of ditch, and some heaps of mud raked up—I am almost confident that I did not run up against the policeman—I never gave him the least provocation for catching hold of me—I don't suppose we were going at the rate of more than about two or three miles an hour—I could not have fallen off my velocipede, because I was too particular in keeping the right side of the road—I can't explain how I came off—it was done all of an instant—my velocipede had two wheels behind and one in front, and Raymond's had one behind and two in front—they would stand perfectly steady—I did not strike the policeman to my recollection; I had no occasion to do so; I did not; I have no recollection of striking him—this happened 400 or 500 yards from the police-station—I ran back to the station—the station is higher up the road than the Rose and Crown.
Cross-examined. It was not became I had had so much beer that I do not recollect whether I struck the policeman or not; it was too dark to see anything, too dark to see a blow struck; he could not tell that I struck him, or anyone else—he did not know which it was—if he was struck at all it must have been either by me or Raymond—before I went to the Rose and Crown we had only been in one public-house—we had one pint of four half-and-half there between us—at the Rose and Crown we had four pints of half-and-half, three glasses of gin-and-water, and one small glass of rum—I had the biggest part of the four pints—I was not quite sober when I got on my velocipede, but I was quite capable of riding it; of course if I was not sober I must have been drunk—I was drunk, but not incapable—Raymond was much better than me; he had slot had as much as I had—we started from the Rose and Crown between 12.30 and 1 o'clock—I can't say what time it was when I got to the station—I don't know whether it was 2.30, that was what the constable stated—I can't tell at all what we were doing during the two hours—we had only got between 300 and 400 yards from the Rose and Crown—I have not the slightest idea how we had occupied those two hours—I was not on the near side of the road, nor the off side—the velocipede might have been on the off side after the occurrence—I can't tell how it came there—it is a wide road—when my friend came up to me he drawed his machine across, more into the middle of the road, because he should not run against me, I suppose—I called out to him before he came up to me—there are no lamps there—there was a lamp outside the station door—I have no recollection of a man driving a dog-cart stopping and speaking to me—no one spoke to me—I heard a man named Coomber give evidence about coming and speaking to me—I can't say whether it was before the Coroner, of where it was—I was not present when he gave his evidence—I did not call out to my companion "George, stop the b—"—I can't recollect it—I did not say "George, give it to the b—"—I don't make use of such expressions—I don't recollect anything of the sort—I charged the constable with assaulting me, for throwing me over with the machine—I did not think he had upset me, I merely asked him afterwards if he had done it—I asked him that before I went to the station—he did not say he had or not, but he said what was I making that disturbance for—I should think Raymond was 100 yards behind me—we don't very often go out with our velocipedes—I had only
been to Mr. Oldacre's, at Ilford, that day—I lost my hat when the machine went over—I told my friend to look for it while I went to the station—I got it again—I can't say who brought it to me; it was one of the policemen, the same morning, at the station—I did not tell Sergeant Fry next morning that I had lost my hat, and was looking for it when the policeman came up, or that my mate had knocked it off—I was put in the dock and charged with disorderly conduct, drunkenness and an assault; that charge stands over till this case is disposed of.
Re-examined. My impression was that the policeman had knocked me over, velocipede and all—he took me up and shook me, that was the assault complained of.
Jury. Q. Were there any mud banks near where you were? A. No, they were piled up out of the way, more towards the ditch; it was mud scraped out of the road—my machine went over on my left side towards the ditch—I was not near the mud heaps—it was not a frosty night, it was very dark, mizzling with rain.
RICHARD MILTON . I am landlord of the Rose and Crown at Ilford—the last witness and the deceased came there on 16th February, about 9.45 at night—I had known them some years—they remained about three hours; they left about 12.45—I shook hands with them when they went out—I should say they were about half drunk—they were capable of taking care of themselves, and knowing what they were about—they walked out—I did not see them mount their velocipedes—they were good tempered—they had had four pints of half-and-half between them, and 3d. worth of rum.
Cross-examined. I say they were half drunk when they left—the air would have some effect upon them afterwards—I can't explain how it was that they were an hour and three-quarters going 300 yards.
WILLIAM COOMBER . I am a cab proprietor, and live at 4, Mercury Gardens, Romford—on 16th February, about 2 o'clock in the morning, I was coming from Wanstead in a dog-cart—when I reached between the Coach and Horses and the bridge I heard something rattle like the wheels of a truck turning over—it was near me, exactly opposite—I looked over my near side wheel, and saw a man in the act of falling, and he fell very heavily, just as if he was falling off something—he was on the near side of the road—if he was going to London he would be on his wrong side—I did not feel that I struck the vehicle—I was going about six miles an hour, I could not go any faster because it was so dark—if I had run against it I must have felt the shock, you can feel almost anything in a dog-cart—I asked the man if he was hurt—he did not answer me for the moment, but the first words he spoke were "Stop the b—, stop the b—, come here, George"—I asked him again if he was hurt—he still continued calling—I walked my horse four or five yards in the direction he was calling to, and presently I saw a man leave the bridge—I said "You had better go and look after your friend, he has fallen over, I think"—he never replied to me, but replied to the man that had fallen—I turned my horse's head and went back to the spot, and asked him if he was hurt—they neither replied to me, but one said to the other, "No, I am not hurt, only the b—knocked me over"—I don't identify Humphreys as being the man.
Cross-examined. I called at the police-station and told them what had occurred—I did not know whether it was a truck, a velocipede, or what it was—when I left the men they were squabbling one with the other, I could not make head or tail of them, they were rowing one another, noisy, I
could not make out what it was about—I should certainly say they were drunk, although I could not swear to it—the policeman I spoke to was on the steps of the station—they were between 200 or 300 yards from the Rose and Crown when I stumbled over whatever it was—I had lamps to my dog-cart, but not alight—I did not get out, I was going to get out when I heard the man coming from the direction of the bridge.
Re-examined. He came staggering as well as I could see—he had no velocipede, I never saw it.
WILLIAM BROWN (Police Sergeant A R 151). I am stationed at Ilford—about 2.30 on the morning of 16th February the witness Humphreys came into the station—I was the sergeant on duty—he said "One of your men has assaulted me"—I asked him who—he said he did not know—I asked where it was—he said "Up the road"—I asked him his name, and at that time Police-Constable Strickland brought in Raymond—I did not take down Humphrey's charge, he was so drunk, and the constable brought in the other man at the time; he walked in with him with his hand on his collar, Raymond appeared to be very drunk—when Humphreys saw Strickland he said "That it is the man"—Strickland said "What are you here, are you," and he immediately took hold of him and put him in the dock by the side of Raymond, and said he charged the two men with being drunk, creating a disturbance, and assaulting him in the high road, in the parish of Little Ilford—before I took the charge Strickland said that he had struck Raymond on the head with his staff—he had his staff with him—I asked him what the disturbance was—he said he was coming down the road, he heard some men quarrelling, and he went to the spot, he found the two prisoners, he persuaded them to go away some little time, when Humphreys struck him on the chin, and immediately Raymond came up and struck him on the chest, they then both struck him several times, that he kept off the blows as well as he could with his arms underneath his cape, he then threw off his cape, drew his truncheon, and said he would knock the first man down that struck him again, Raymond struck him again, and he struck Raymond on the head and knocked him down—Humphreys said nothing then—when he was put in the dock he said "We should have went away if the constable had let us," or "had let us alone"—whilst Raymond was in the dock he said something, but I could not understand what, I thought he was so drunk—they were both apparently very drunk—I did not see Raymond put his hands to his head—they were both put in the same cell about 3 o'clock, and I never left them 15 minutes at a time up to 6 o'clock—Raymond laid down on the floor, and Humphreys on the seat—on the third occasion that I went in I noticed that Raymond breathed very heavily—I sent for the doctor—he was afterwards taken into the charge-room and placed before the fire—I saw him there at 8 o'clock—I went off duty at 6 o'clock and returned at 8 o'clock—he had vomitted just before I sent for the doctor—ultimately, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, a cart was sent for—he was placed on a stretcher and taken in the cart to the hospital.
Cross-examined. Humphreys decidedly drunk—the deceased also appeared to me to be drunk.
Re-examined. Humphreys made the charge in a rational manner, and quite plain when he first came in—he staggered very much—I said before the Coroner that he appeared to be able to take care of himself.
was on duty at Ilford Station, about 2.30—a knock came at the door and Humphreys came in, and he complained of having been assaulted by a policeman up the road, that he had been roughly handled, he did not know who the policeman was—during the conversation Strickland came in with Raymond by the collar—he put Raymond in the dock, and also took hold of Humphreys and put him in the dock, and charged them both with being drunk, creating a disturbance and assaulting him—he said he had found them quarrelling in the Romford Road, that he advised them to go away; that they refused, when Humphreys came and struck him in the mouth; that they then both made an attack on him; he undid his cape, drew his staff and said "The first one that strikes me again I will knock him down;" that Raymond came towards him to strike him, and he struck him on the head and knocked him down—I did not examine Strickland's mouth—I did not observe any marks of violence on his face—I was standing three yards away—from his general appearance, I saw there was no violence on him—I did not go to his face and look—I also examined Raymond's head, but did not find the least marks of violence on him—he tried to speak, but could not—he was very incoherent—I did not understand a word—I did not see that he placed his hands to his head—the charge was read over to them and Humphreys said "You are not going to lock me up, are you? I have not done anything. I don't know what my mate has been doing, I am not drunk"—they were placed in a cell—the doctor was afterwards sent for—I was present when he came—I should not have locked Humphreys up as being drunk and incapable from what I saw—he was drunk, but I should not have locked him up for drunkenness alone—I continually looked at the deceased in the cell after 6 o'clock—I think Humphreys was quite capable of giving an account of the assault that he alleged against Strickland—at 7.30 I noticed that Raymond had moved his head—a pillow had been placed under him—he vomitted before the doctor came—I tried to rouse him, but could not—his eyes were half open and half shut, apparently fixed—I had him carried to the fire—after the doctor came I had a cart sent for, by his direction—I placed Raymond on a stretcher and put him in the cart and accompanied him to the London Hospital—on the road near Bow, I observed his features change, and a little further on I found he was dead—I afterwards accompanied Strickland to the place where this occurred, about 500 yards from the police-station, and about 300 yards from the Coach and Horses—I there found two tricycles, one with two wheels in front and one behind, on the left had side of the road, the other with two wheels behind and one in front, about 70 yards nearer London, on the right-hand side of the road—the first one was about 120 yards from the bridge, on the London side—I said to Humphreys in the morning "What had you been drinking last night?" and he said "We had three or four pints of four half-and-half, and the deceased had a glass of rum"—he also added "If the policeman had not interfered with us we should have been all right."
Cross-examined. He also said "My mate knocked my hat off, and we were looking for it when the policeman came up"—I am not certain whether he had a hat on when he came to the station—Raymond had no hat on; that was never found—Humphrey's hat was found afterwards—I don't know by whom—I went from the station after 3 o'clock, and did not return till 6 o'clock—I saw Strickland's cape and coat—they were apparently muddy, and showed marks of a struggle—he said that when the attack was made on him he put his cape down in the road—it was dirty—he has been in the
force about seven years, and was a quiet, good officer—he was under my control.
Re-examined. I don't know that Raymond's clothes were dirty; I never looked—it was not a wet night; it was very dirty; there was no raining—Strickland's cape was a glazed one.
LIONEL BEECH . I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—Raymond was brought there on 16th February—he was dead—I made a post-mortem examination—on opening the scalp, I found extravasation of blood into the brain and into the muscle underneath—the skull was opened, and there was a fracture about two inches long, and under the fracture extravasation of blood—that corresponded with what I discovered before I opened the skull—the skull was thin; thinner than the majority of skulls are—there was extravasation of blood in other parts of the brain—the heart and lungs were healthy—the dura mater was separated from the skull—the brain itself was a healthy one—the cause of death was fracture of the skull, and extravasation of blood into the brain—a policeman's staff would be calculated to cause such a fracture as I saw—the fracture would cause insensibility and inability to speak.
Cross-examined. There was no external mark—it might have been due to a fall of any kind, provided it was not against a sharp-pointed instrument, which would have produced a puncture—he was a strong, muscular, powerful man—the wound was on the left side—the skull being thin, less violence would cause the fracture.
COURT. Q. Could you judge at all, from the shape of the fracture, whether the man was going towards the policeman or away him? A. He might be going away from him, but then the policeman would have to use a back handed blow—he might have been coming towards him—the extravasation was the immediate cause of death; that was certainly due to violence, but what violence I can't say—a policeman's truncheon might inflict such a wound, and a fall might—I could not, of course, tell in what position the man was at the time—it might have been that the man was going towards him—the direction of the fracture was downwards—it Would make no difference whether he was going towards him or not at the time the blow was given.
Re-examined. He might have been standing still—he was a man of about 5 feet 8 inches in height.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
SAMUEL LEHEUP . I keep the Britannia public-house, at Leytonstone—on Saturday, 3rd February, the two prisoners came in, and Lee asked for a pint of fourpenny ale—he gave me a shilling—I told him it was bad—he said "Give it me back, and I will pay you"—I broke it, and gave him one half and kept the other—Brinkley produced a bag, and showed what money he had, and I think he paid for the ale—they abused me when I broke the
shilling, and asked for it back—they went outside and commenced abusing me again, and said they had not drunk their ale—Mr. Rogers came up, and he got a policeman, and I gave them in charge—a lad named Freeman had a dog by a string—he tried to intercept every step we took with the string—the inspector has the half of the coin.
Cross-examined. The prisoners were both sober—they had had a drop or two to drink, but they knew what they were about—they were very saucy and abusive—I don't know that Brinkley is a hawker—he did not say he had had a deal with another hawker.
GEORGE ROGERS . I am a brick-maker, at Leyton—on 3rd February, I was passing the Britannia—I saw the two prisoners outside, having a bother with Mr. Leheup, who was accusing Lee of tendering him a bad shilling—Lee said "If we have tendered you a bad shilling we have paid in good money for the beer"—they said they had not drunk the beer, and they would go inside again—Freeman was outside the door with a dog—I told Mr. Leheup to get a policeman, and I would follow them—I followed them till Mr. Leheup and the constable Snow came up—he took Lee in charge, and he asked me to take Brinkley—Brinkley began kicking me, and tried to get away, and Freeman tried to rescue him—I got him into the tap-room of the Thatched House, and I assisted the constable afterwards to take Brinkley to the station—at the station I saw him try to pass a shilling to Freeman, but it fell on the floor, and Snow picked it up.
WILLIAM LEVERINGTON (Policeman N 77). On 3rd February I saw Rogers with Brinkley, and Snow had Lee in custody, at the Thatched House—I took Brinkley, he was very violent—Lee also resisted—he kicked me, and I had to put the handcuffs on—Freeman was in the house at the time—he tried to throw me down several times, and said "If the little one went to the station, he would go"—I took Brinkley to the station—I afterwards came out and took Freeman, and he was charged with being concerned with the others.
JOHN SNOW (Policeman N 192). I took Lee, and told him the charge—he said he would go quietly to the station if we would let Brinkley go—he then began kicking in a most violent manner, and bit my hands several times—I got them to the station, and searched them—on Lee I found three sixpences, and tenpence in copper, and on Brinkley fifteen six-pences, a fourpenny-piece, and 4s. 4 1/2 d. in copper, in a bag, all good money—I saw a shilling drop from Brinkley—I picked it up and found it was bad.
Lee. Q. Did I not say "I have got no more bad money?" A. Yes, you did.
WILLIAM WHITE (Police Inspector K). I was in charge of the station, at West Ham, when the two prisoners and Freeman were brought there—while I was taking the charge I saw Brinkley in the act of passing something to Freeman—I said to the constable "Look out," and immediately this counterfeit shilling fell on the floor.
Lee's Defence. I borrowed a shilling of Brinkley, and went in to have a pint of beer; Mr. Leheup said it was bad, and he gave me the piece; I showed it to Brinkley, and he paid for the beer—we went out, and they stopped us.
Lee also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in March, 1869.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. A. B. KELLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. E. DAVIS defended Jones, and MR. STRAIGHT defended Smith and Sharp.
HENRY HUNT . I am a wheelwright, and live at Earl Street, London Road—I let ponies and traps—on 1st February, Sharp came to hire a pony and cart to take a servant's box down to Brixton—I let him have it—he paid me 3s.—Crane went with the pony and trap—I next saw it down at Plaistow, in a shed at Mr. Nurse's, the butcher's.
Cross-examined by MR. DAVIS. No one came with Sharp.
CHARLES CRANE . I work for Mr. Hunt—on 1st February, I was sent out with a pony and trap—Sharp left the yard with me, and when we got round the corner, the other two prisoners got in—Sharp told me to drive towards the Elephant and Castle—we drove up the Walworth Road to White Hart Court, where they told me to draw up—Sharp said to Smith and Jones "Get out and go to Mother Brown's" and he said to me "You go and lend a hand with the box" I said "Can't you go?" and he said "No, I don't want her to see me"—he said he would take out the tail-board—I went up to the Court, and when I got half-way, Smith and Jones ran through the court—I looked round, and Sharp had driven off with the pony and trap—I ran after him, but I could not catch him—I saw him turn into Short Street, and I lost sight of him in Kennington Road.
Cross-examined by MR. DAVIS. I am quite sure Jones was, one of them—I had never seen him before—it took five or ten minutes to drive to the court—I did not speak to Jones—he had a round hat on, and the same coat he has now—I saw him afterwards at the Stratford police-station with the other two prisoners—I had to go and swear to the chaps—I knew I was to identify the men who had stolen the cart.
Re-examined. I went to see whether the men in custody were the men or not—I should not have identified niggers.
REUBEN BUTCHER . I am a general-dealer, at Plaistow—on 3rd February, I went to Mr. French's, the horse-dealer's—I saw a man named Burke there, and Jones was talking to him—Burke said to me "There is a chance to buy a pony and cart," and I went with Jones to see the pony and cart, which was in the yard at the Coach and Horses—the other two prisoners were there—Jones offered to sell it to me for 8l.—I did not buy it myself, but I brought Mr. Nurse to see it, and he bought it in my presence for 6l. 10s.—the prisoners were all together in front of the bar—the money was paid to Jones, and he gave a receipt for it.
Cross-examined by MR. DAVIS. I had never seen Jones before—I don't know the man who kept the Coach and Horses—I never bought a pony and trap of him—I never knew him have them in his stable for sale before—Jones asked me if I wanted to buy a cart—I had not got the money, and I brought Mr. Nurse to buy it.
Re-examined. Jones said he had had the pony and trap eighteen months, and had been trading from place to place—I saw the three prisoners at Plaistow the next night, with another pony and chaise.
Cross-examined by MR. DAVIS. I did not know Jones at all.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I did not notice the other prisoners at all.
JOHN FREELAND (Policeman K 24). I received information on 3rd February, and I found the pony and cart—I gave directions that the three prisoners should be arrested—I was present when Hunt identified the pony and chaise—the three prisoners were identified by Crane, at Stratford, and by Mr. Hunt and Mr. Dodge, at the police-station at Plaistow.
Cross-examined by MR. DAVIS. Hunt identified Sharp as being the man who hired the horse and trap—he did not identify Jones—Mr. Nurse and Mr. Butcher identified Jones, and several others identified him at the Police Court.
Sharp's Statement before the Magistrate:—"I bought the horse and cart, and harness on 2nd February, for 5l., in the Cattle Market, Islington. I took it to Plaistow, to sell it; I met Jones, and asked him if he knew a purchaser. Jones said 'Yes.' We took it to Mr. Butcher's and sold it for 6l. 10s. I gave Jones a half-sovereign."
Jones and Smith also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted; Jones in December, 1861, and Smith in December, 1871. JONES— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. SMITH— One Month's Imprisonment, and Five Years' in a Reformatory. SHARP— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. BESLEY and HORACE BROWN the Defence.
WILLIAM GUNSTON . I am errand boy to Mr. Galloway of High Street, Deptford—on 13th January, the prisoner told me to give him the basket—I did so, and he put it under the counter where the cheese is kept, I went outside and he afterwards gave me the basket packed, and said "Take this to my place"—there was no one there to pack it but himself—there was butter, cheese, eggs, and bacon in it—the cheese was in paper, tied round with string—on my way I opened the paper which was round the cheese, and found under the cheese two half-crowns and a florin, I wrapped it up again, delivered it to Mrs. Hayes—when I returned I made a communication about it—on 25th January, he said "Take these papers to my wife," they were packed up under the counter—there were nine Kentish Independents and one Surrey Gazette—I took them to his wife, and on my way I showed them to Detective Officer Osborne—I had been told to do so—on 10th February the prisoner told me to take his things off the shelf; there were some eggs, butter and cheese; I put them in the basket, and took them to his house; there were also three or four rashers of bacon done up in paper, which he pointed to me and told me to take—on my way I saw Detective Margetson, who examined the basket in my presence, and I saw him find two half-crowns between two rashers of bacon—he then did it up as it was before, and I left it at the prisoner's house.
Cross-examined. I was not called at the Police Court, and have not been examined before—it was, I think, after Christmas when I first went with the cheese; it was close upon Christmas—I was not present when the
goods were packed—there is no charge against him with reference to the cheese—I had not opened a parcel before—it was the under shopman who told me to open it—when I went back I saw George Simpson outside the shop, and told him I had opened it—the prisoner was then behind the counter—neither Simpson or I put any question to him—I had told the prisoner that Mrs. Hayes wanted some paper to wrap up his dinner to send to him, and he said "Take some of the waste paper under the counter"—they were old newspapers, and something like 1 1/2 lb., and I took it—he did not say "Don't take it away"—I took nine old newspapers, and asked him whether that would be enough—he said "Yes"—Simpson did not pack the parcel containing the rashers of bacon, but he always told me to open the parcels, and I always did from that time—I went to the prisoner's house every day, and opened all the parcels—I do not know who wrapped up the rashers of bacon on 10th February—I was putting the goods away—I saw Margetson open the parcel—I knew him before—he came back in half-an-hour—the prisoner was there—I put no question to him—I did not attend at the Police Court—Simpson has been there all the time I have been there—Mr. Galloway was there every day; he is a cheesemonger—I never served.
Re-examined. I did not communicate with Mr. Galloway about the rashers of bacon and cheese—I do not know who told him—he instructed me to take the parcels to the police on each occasion I did not see the first parcel packed; it was packed when the prisoner told me to get the basket—I went every day to the prisoner's house to fetch his dinner or tea, and I took goods there every Saturday.
GEORGE SIMPSON . I am under-shopman to Mr. Galloway, and have been sometime in his employ—on January 13th the boy Osborne took some things to the prisoner's wife—Mr. Galloway had not then made any communication to me, but I gave the boy instructions in reference to the parcel—I did not pack the things on that occasion, but I was present when the prisoner packed the cheese into a basket—I saw him go to the end of the shop, and take something from between the tubs, and put it between the cheese and the paper—I could not see what it was, but in consequence of what I saw I gave instructions to the boy—when the prisoner put it into the cheese he deliberately put it into the scale, to weigh it and charge it to himself, the money with the cheese, and that attracted my attention; when the boy came home, he made a communication to me, and I told my father the same day—my father does not live there—I remember seeing the boy take the papers—I did not pack the parcel of goods which the prisoner sent to his wife on 10th February, nor was I present when it was packed, I was outside—nobody was present to pack it but the prisoner and the lad.
Cross-examined. I only mentioned it to my father, but he communicated with Mr. Galloway; I did not do so because I did not see him, and when I did see him I did not tell him, because my father had done so—my father comes to Mr. Galloway on Saturdays—I was not called at the Police Court—the 13th was Saturday—after this I told the boy always to open the parcels, but I had not done so before—I did not speak to the boy to-day during lunch; I had instructions not to do so, and kept away from him—I knew that Hayes had newspapers from the shop to wrap parcels in, but I do not know whether he was allowed to do so; it has occurred four or five times.
between the first and second rashers were two half-crowns wrapped in paper; they were not marked—I put them in again and sent them by the boy—on the same Saturday I received four marked sovereigns and four marked half-sovereigns from Mr. Galloway—I gave two of the sovereigns and two of the half-sovereigns to Detective Berritt, and the other two sovereigns and half-sovereign to my wife, directing her what to do with them—shortly after 12 o'clock that night Mr. Galloway called me into the parlour where the prisoner was, and Simpson and the two lads—Mr. Galloway gave the prisoner in custody for robbing him—a half-sovereign, a crown, a half-crown, a shilling, and a sixpence were lying on the table, and Berritt asked the prisoner "Have you any more money in your pockets? if so, turn it out"—he took a half-sovereign and a crown out of his pocket, we examined it, and found that the half-crown was marked—it was money which was previously taken—I asked the prisoner if he had got a great-coat to put on; he pointed to a coat hanging behind the door and said "That is mine;" I asked him if he had got anything in the pockets; he said "A pair of gloves and a wrapper"—I asked him if there was anything else—he said "Not that I know of"—I examined the coat and found a pair of gloves in one pocket and a wrapper in another; I put my hand in a second time and found a marked half-sovereign—he said that he knew nothing about it, somebody must have put it there—I took him to the station—I afterwards searched his house, and in a chest of drawers in the bedroom I found a bag containing a half-crown marked.
Cross-examined. The money was on the table in a little parlour at the back of the shop, and the coat was hanging up there—I never asked him for any explanation of the money being in the parcel.
GEORGE HENRY GALLOWAY . I carry on business in High Street, Deptford—the prisoner was my manager—he has been in my service since the 20th May, when the establishment opened—the under-shopman was there at the same time, and the boy came afterwards—Mr. Simpson the elder made a communication to me, in consequence of which, on Saturday, 10th February, I marked four sovereigns, four half-sovereigns, and four half-crowns—I placed the four half-crowns in the till in the shop about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and gave the gold to the policeman—about 12 o'clock that night I asked the prisoner what he had sent to his house in the afternoon—he referred to the entry in the book—I said "You sent something more than that"—he said "No, I did not"—I told him to recollect himself, and not be in a hurry, as I was sure he sent something more, but he positively declared he did not—I accused him of taking my money, and told him I insisted on his coming into the back room, and turning his pockets out—he said "Very well;" and we both proceeded to the back parlour, and in the presence of all the other servants he turned some money out of his waiscoat pockets, and I identified one of the half-crowns I had marked that evening—I said "This is my money"—he said "It is my hard earnings"—I called him a liar, and asked him if he had any more money about him; he declared most positively that he had not—I sent for the police, who were outside—they came, and I told them what had occurred, and that I believed he had some more money about him—they pressed him, and he put his hand into his coat-tail, and pulled out some gold and silver, and placed it on the table—none of that was marked—I gave him in custody—two coats were hanging on the door—the police asked me about them—the prisoner said "That is my great-coat"—they asked him
if he had anything in it—he said "A wrapper and some gloves; that is all I know of"—they found a marked half-sovereign there, one which I had given out in the evening.
Cross-examined. I am absent a good deal, and the prisoner was my managing man—he had the control of the till—he always had a boy to send out for change—he has never, to my knowledge, changed money for the till from his own pocket—if he had no small change in the till, and took 2s. 6d. from his own pocket and put it into the till, and took a half-crown from the till and put it into his pocket, I consider that he would do wrong—any of my servants could have gone into the room where his great-coat was without going through the shop—he generally has his tea in the parlour, but I am not there—it is then his custom to go into the shop and continue his work—we are busy on Saturday nights, and he remains in the shop a great deal—none of the gold and silver that lay on the table was marked.
Re-examined. His wages were 2l. per week—I always allowed enough silver for change—there was 6l. or 8l. worth of silver there when I left on Saturday, 10th February—it would commence in the morning by small sums, and would accumulate—it was not dishonest to give change out of his pocket, but it was irregular, and I never allow it.
MR. HARRIS withdrew that, part of the case relating to the newspapers. The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of stealing the money.
Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury— Six Months' Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Es.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; MR. LILLEY defended Gittings, and MR. STRAIGHT defended Stewart.
ROBERT WHITTAKER . I am a soldier in the 23rd Royal Fusiliers, and I serve in the canteen at Woolwich—on 5th February, Stewart came in for a quart of stout, and gave me a bad shilling, which I broke on the counter—he said he had been up to London the night before, and got change for a sovereign—I offered it to him back again, but he would not take it, and the sergeant in the canteen had it.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I gave my evidence the second time they were brought before the Court—I was not in Court on the first occasion—they are not in the same regiment as I am—they are in the 21st North British—Stewart showed me twelve or fourteen shillings after he said he had changed a sovereign in London, and he gave me a good shilling in the place of the bad one.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. There is only one depot there, and that is attached to the 23rd—we take bad money occasionally, not so much as two or three times a week usually, but lately sometimes three or four a day—the 21st is attached to our regiment.
CHARLES HOWLETT . My father keeps the White Horse, at Charlton—on Wednesday, 14th February, Gittings came in for a glass of ale, and paid with a florin—I gave him change, and put the florin on the shelf—I looked at it after he was gone, and found it was bad—I bent it with my teeth—I ran after him and brought him back—I put the florin on the counter—he picked it up and gave me another one for it—he said he was not aware it was bad, he took it at the Coach and Horses.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I had never seen him before—a number of soldiers come to our house from time to time.
Re-examined. I followed him, and brought him back—I am sure he is the man.
NOAH LOVERIDGE . I keep the Old Mill, public-house, Plumstead Common, near Woolwich—on 15th February, the two prisoners came in about 4.50—Stewart asked for two glasses of ale—I served him, and he paid with a half-crown—I gave him 2s. 3d. change, and put the half-crown in the till—there was no other half-crown there—a postman showed himself at the door, to look at the time—Gittings called him in, and then he called for four glasses of ale; one each for them, one for the postman, and one for me—Gittings gave me a half-crown in payment, and I gave him a shilling and two sixpences in change—I put the half-crown in the till, with the other—Gittings left the house after a little conversation, and Stewart followed—I then looked at the two half-crowns in the till—they were the only ones there—I found they were bad—I called my potman—he put them in his pocket, and followed the prisoners—I followed part of the way—I afterwards went to the station-house, and found Gittings in custody—I said "That is the man"—he said he never saw me before—I was sent for again, about an hour afterwards, and I found Stewart in custody, at the station—I pointed to him as the man, and he made no reply—the half-crowns were given to the police.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. They came in about 4.50—they were in the bar about twenty minutes, and drank two glasses of ale each—I had no other soldiers in that day but those two—we have some come there occasionally—Gittings remained three or four minutes after the four glasses were served, and then he went out.
JOHN BONNINGTON . I am potman to the last witness—about 5 o'clock, on 15th February, I saw the two prisoners in front of the bar—shortly after they had gone I was called out of the tap-room, and my master showed me two bad half-crowns—I put them in my pocket, and followed the prisoners—I overtook them in the Raglan Road, about half a mile off—I saw Gittings pass something to Stewart, and seven or eight small pieces of paper fell from Gittings it was like tissue-paper—they crossed the road, and Stewart asked me if I lived in the neighbourhood—I told him "Yes"—he asked me the way to the barracks, and I told him—he asked me if I would mind showing him, and I said "No"—that was about half a mile from the barracks—we walked along, and he pulled out three-halfpence, and asked me to have a glass of ale—I told him I did not require it—I had not met a policeman up to that time—we went into a public-house, and they called for three glasses of ale—I did not drink mine—I went out to see if I could see an officer—they came out, and I saw them both running away—I followed—I called them, and they came back—Gittings asked me if I had drunk my glass of ale—I told him no, and we went back to the same place—I afterwards saw a constable, and gave Gittings into custody, and gave the two bad half-crowns to the constable.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I did not hear what Gittings said to the constable—he might have said he had done nothing—after we went back to the public-house the second time, they ran away, and I followed Gittings till I came across a policeman—we sell screws of tobacco, but it is not done up in thin paper—I did not pick up the pieces of paper—I was about the width of the street from them when I saw the paper thrown away by Gittings.
HENRY SLADE . I keep the Rose Inn, Plumstead—the two prisoners came to my house on the evening of the 15th February—one of them asked for two glasses of ale—I can't say which it was—I received a half-crown in payment—I put it in the till and gave change—I examined the till about ten minutes after, and found two half-crowns; one was good and the other bad—I gave it to the sergeant afterwards.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I had not seen the men before—I did not see them after they left my place till they were in custody, and I pointed them out—Stewart was put with two more, and I picked him out—I saw Gittings taken on the road as I went to the station.
HENRY MARSH (Policeman R 242). I was on duty at Plumstead on Thursday evening, 15th February—I saw Bonnington in the New Road, following Gittings—he gave Gittings into custody for passing bad money, and he gave me these two bad half-crowns (produced)—I took him to the station, and found on him six separate shillings, six sixpences, and 1s. 10 1/2 d. in bronze.
DAVID COLLIS (Police Sergeant, R R 3). I apprehended Stewart at the barracks at Woolwich, on 15th February, about 7.30 at night—I told him I should take him to the station for being concerned with another soldier in uttering counterfeit coin—he said he knew nothing about counterfeit money, or any soldier—I found on him two florins and a shilling, and 3 1/2 d. bronze—he said he had received 5s. as his pay—I produce a shilling I received from Whittaker, and a half-crown which I received from Slade.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. It was on Thursday night I went to the barracks—I don't know that that is the pay night—I went with a sergeant of the 23rd, and he fetched Stewart out to me.
Recommended to mercy by the Jury— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM DAMAS . I am a gunner of the F. Battery, B. Brigade, of the Royal Artillery, quartered at Woolwich—I was employed as clerk in the office—the prisoner is a gunner in the battery, and was employed as clerk under me till the 1st December last—we returned from India to England on 15th April—I packed up the papers before leaving India, and amongst them a quantity of Indian postage-stamps, with the word "Service" printed across; they were worth 4l. 17s. 5 1/2 d. in English money; that was marked on the envelope in which they were enclosed; I marked it myself—they were put in a tin packing-case with the other papers—I remained as clerk in that battery at Woolwich until the end of September last; I left then for a short time—the stamps were safe then, the same as the other records of the battery—after I had been back a few days I found the stamps were gone—I know the prisoner's handwriting—this letter is written by him—it was sent to my commanding officer, and I got it from him; it was sent to him with a letter from the Postmaster-General.
Prisoner. Were stamps of that kind used in the Quartermaster-General's office, the office I was in? Witness. Yes; they came to our office because we kept a record of them there—the prisoner was only employed a few days
prior to our leaving India—there was only one battery at the station, and all the correspondence would come through the office I was employed in—we kept the postal diary—I packed up all the postal department of the office.
Re-examined. He had no right to send that letter at all—(Letter read: "November 28th, 1871. Sir. On our battery's return to England in April last, I brought with me Indian Service stamps, amounting to a total of 48 rs. 15 ans. 6 pice, and as they are of no use here, I have taken the liberty of sending them to you, with a request that you will be good enough to remit to me the amount that may be realised, as I have heard that they may be used up, but will become in course of time obsolete. The amount can be forwarded to Messrs. Cox & Co., Charing Cross, London, to the name of Bombardier Henry Atkins, F.B. Brigade, R.H.A. A letter to the under-mentioned address, informing me the amount, with total forwarded, will confer a great favour on your obedient servant, Henry Atkins, Bombardier, Pay-Sergeant, F. Battery, B. Brigade, Woolwich, Kent, addressed to the Postmaster-General, Post Office, Madras.")
FRANCIS NICHOLSON . I am a lieutenant in the F. Battery, B. Brigade, Royal Artillery—the prisoner was a gunner in that battery—he would have no right, on the return of the regiment, to write for those stamps—he had no authority—unless he had authority, no non-commissioned officer was allowed to write such a letter—he signed himself as paymaster, to that letter—that was an untruth—the stamps are used for the service of India—if the captain of the battery had taken them to the Postmaster-General he would have been given the money for them.
JOSEPH MOSS (Policeman R 151). I received the prisoner into custody on this charge on January 17th—I asked him what he had to say to the charge—he said he had nothing to say then, but he should state to the Magistrate what he had to say—when he was before the Magistrate, he said "I admit the letter to be in my handwriting, and that I sent the stamps named in that letter without official authority; I am not guilty of stealing them."
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that as he was packing up the papers on the batteries leaving India, he found the stamps, and brought them to England, and then he did not come across them for two or three months, and that afterwards he wrote the letter, and sent the letter to the Paymaster-General, and that he received a letter, stating that they had been received, and that in the next letter, a few days after, he was told they had been brought back, and that he was to be proceeded against by order of the Commander-in-Chief, and that he did not steal the stamps, and had no intention of doing so.
MR. NICHOLSON stated that the prisoner bore a fair character, and had behaved well in the regiment.
NOT GUILTY .
292. CHARLES MONTAGUE (38), and JOSEPH AMIES (18), were indicted for unlawfully having in their possession 28 counterfeit coins, 21 half-crowns, 88 florins, and 31 shillings, with intent to utter the same. MESSRS POLAND and SAFFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
Street, Lambeth—about 1 o'clock the two prisoners came in—after a few minutes, I and Davey opened the folding-doors and went into the back parlour—Montague was standing close by the mantel piece with a quantity of loose florins and shillings; some were loose and some wrapped up in paper—as we went in he dropped two on the floor—I picked them up and asked how he accounted for these—he said "I know nothing about them"—I asked Amies the same question! he also said "I know nothing about them"—I then took possession of the coins—on the mantel piece there were 86 florins, 31 shillings, and 10 half-crowns, some loose and others wrapped in paper, with paper between each coin—I had been there previously, about 11.30, and examined the room very minutely, and, there was no bad money about then—I found on Montague 7s. 11 1/2 d. good money; 5s. of that was in sixpences.
Cross-examined. Montague had a florin in each hand when I went in, I could see it plainly—he was looking at them.
DANIEL DAVEY . I was with Micklejohn when the prisoners came in—after listening two minutes I heard the unwrapping of the paper, and the sound of money, and talking—we then opened the folding doors and went in—I saw Montague drop two florins from his hands—I took Amies, and told him he was charged with having a quantity of counterfeit coin for the purpose of concealing the same—he said "I know nothing about it"—I found on the hob of the fire-place this bag, containing 28 crown pieces wrapped in paper, in three packets, and 11 half-crowns in another packet, with paper between each coin—I found on Amies 4s. 4d. in good money.
Cross-examined. When we first went in I said "We are officers, we are going to arrest you."
SARAH CHAPMAN . I am the wife of William Chapman, of 11, Royal Street, Lambeth—on Tuesday, 16th January, the two prisoners came there; Montague asked to look at a bed room that I had to let—I showed it him—he said it was not for him, it was for his brother-in-law, and he thought it would do very nicely—the rent was to be 4s. a week, and he was to pay the rent in advance—Amies paid the rent for the first week—he said he should require a key, for he was engaged at theatres in the evening, and he should not be home till late—he came again about 6 o'clock for the key—I asked his name; he said "Joe Amies"—I said "Where do you work?"—he said "At the South London"—he slept there that night—next morning he went out about 9 o'clock—about 10 o'clock I went into his room to do it up—I left the bed all right—Amies came in about 1 o'clock, and between 1 and 4 o'clock—he was in and out three times—he left the bed-room door open—about 4 o'clock I went in to tidy the room, I saw the pillows had been removed and the bed disturbed—I went and removed the things, and between the matrass and palliasse I saw two little black bags, I felt them, there was money in them—one bag was open, so I took out a package, and it contained four florins—I put everything back as I had found it, and left it there till my husband came home about 6 o'clock—I then shewed him the money, and left it there again all right, Amies came in between 3 and 8 o'clock, and went out again very soon after—my husband went out to give information—when he came back we went into the room, and the black bags were then gone—Amies came home about 1.30 in the morning, and went out about 10 o'clock—I again cleared up his room—I looked round and found nothing then—about 1 o'clock in the day, the two prisoners came in together—at that time the officers were waiting in the front parlour,
and after a short time they went into the other room—no one but myself had gone into that room while the prisoner was out—I thought the money was bad when I looked at it.
Cross-examined. They came together when the room was taken, but it was taken for Amies, who Montague said was his wife's brother.
The statements of the prisoners before the Magistrate were that Amies had found the coins wrapped in a piece of a dress, and being doubtful about them, had asked Montague to come and see them, and they were examining them at the time the officers came.
NOT GUILTY .
Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
The Grand Jury having ignored the Bill, MR. HORRY, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence on the indictment.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and SAFFORD conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE LINGWELL . I am manager to Mr. Johnson, who keeps a boot-shop, at 38, Blackfriars Road—about 4 o'clock on the afternoon of 31st January, the prisoner came in for a pair of cheap boots—I fitted him with a pair at 4s. 11 1/2 d.—he gave me two bad half-crowns in payment—I said "They are both bad"—he said "I did not know they were bad; I have just received them from my employer, Mr. Sisterson, of the Southwark Bridge Road"—I said "All I require is good money for the boots"—he said "Let me look at them"—I said "No, they will not go out of my possession"—he said "l am a stranger about here; if you give me your address I will go and get good money for them"—I wrote the address of my shop, and said "Now you had better give me your address, and your employer's, whom you say you got them from"—he gave me the address of Mr. Sisterson, Southwark Bridge Road, and his own address as Bear Lane—at that time my man had sent for a policeman—he came in and asked what was the matter, and I told him he had given me two bad half-crowns—the prisoner said "I am going to get the gentleman good money for them"—the constable said "No, you are going with me first"—with that he made a run out of the shop, but my man stopped him at the door, and he was taken into custody—I gave the two half-crowns to the constable.
WALTER HOLDEN (Policeman L 158). I was called to take the prisoner, and received these two bad half-crowns from the last witness—I found a bad half-crown, 4s. 2 1/2 d., and these small tools, in the prisoner's pockets.
Prisoner's Defence. I gave the constable my proper address, and so I did the man at the shop. I wanted to get good money for them, but the constable would not let me.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and SAFFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT defended Hunt.
FANNY DEAN . My father is a stationer, at Upper Hill Street, Richmond—about 3 o'clock on the afternoon of 16th February, I was called into the shop and saw Hassell—he asked for a frame; it came to 6d.—he gave me a bad half-crown—I took it to my sister, in the next room, and she bent it with her foot—I took it back to the prisoner—he said he did not think it was a bad on—I gave it to him back, and he gave me a good half-crown—I gave him the change—he went away, and I followed him into King Street, where he joined Hunt—I saw Hassell go into Mr. Billett's shop, in Hill Street—I was subsequently called to the station, and saw both the prisoners there—I was shown the half-crown and the frame.
CHARLOTTE DEAN . On 16th Feb. my sister came to me and showed me a bad half-crown—I bent it slightly with my foot—I went into the shop and saw Hassell there—my sister told him the half-crown was bad—he rung it on the floor and said it sounded like a good one—my mother asked him whether he knew where he got it from, and he said "At the Station"—she said he had better take it where he got it from, or he might get into trouble—he took possession of it—he went down towards the bridge, and I saw him go into Mr. Gaynor's shop—when he came out, I was pointing him out to my father, and I saw Hunt in the Ormond Road, just opposite—they were both together—they walked together to King Street, went down a court, they afterwards parted, and joined on the green—I saw Hassell go into Billett's shop—Hunt was then on the opposite side of the road—my father and the inspector came down the street, and Huntran up Mr. Smith's yard, in George Street—I saw Hassell taken into custody first and then Hunt was taken—I was shown the half-crown at the police-station, and recognised it as the one I bent.
MARIA ANN GAYNOR . I am the wife of Edward Gaynor, Royal Terrace, Richmond—on 16th February, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, Hassell came into our shop, and asked for a small knife out of the window, which was 6d.—he tendered me a half-crown, and I gave him 2s. change—he left, and I put the half-crown in my purse, alone—shortly afterwards the police came in, and I gave them the half-crown—this is the knife I Sold Hassell—I saw it at the station.
MARY JANE BILLETT . I am the wife of Thomas Billett, confectioner, Hill Street, Richmond—on the afternoon of 16th February, Hassell came in and asked for some maids of honour, which came to 4d.—he gave a bad half-crown to my shop woman, and she showed it to me—I returned it to the prisoner, and he gave me a good one—he took away the bad one—I was sent for to come to the station soon after, and found the two prisoners in custody.
SAMUEL SMITH . I am the son of George Smith, trunk maker, 70, George Street, Richmond—there is a small yard at the side of my father's shop where we keep several trunks—I found a glove in one of them—I took it up, and found a loose half-crown, and a paper parcel inside, containing nine half-crowns—I thought they were bad, and I went on to the station, and gave them up to the police.
HENRY SMITH (Policeman V 105). I received some information from Mr. Dean—I saw the prisoners in George Street, together—when they came to a court where there were some boxes, Hunt went up the court and Hassell
went gently on—I took Hassell into custody—I told another constable to take Hunt—I searched Hassell at the station, and found the bent half-crown upon him, 2s. in silver, and 2d. in copper, and a return-ticket from Richmond to Vauxhall, dated the same day—I produce a half-crown I received from Mrs. Gaynor.
Cross-examined. I saw the constable take Hunt—there was no difficulty about it—he did not run away.
ISAAC THOMPSON (Policeman V 95). I took Hunt into custody—I searched him at the station, and found on him 18s. 10d. in silver, 4 1/2 d. in bronze, 42 postage-stamps in one sheet, a small knife, 2 cakes of soap, 3 pencils, a photographic frame, 2 cigars, and a third-class return-ticket from Richmond to Vauxhall, dated that day—the knife was identified by Mrs. Gaynor, and the frame by Miss Dean—Hunt said he picked them up in the street.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . There are two bad half-crowns, one slightly bent—there are ten found in the glove, they are all bad—the two uttered are dated 1817 and 1845, and amongst the ten are four of 1817 and one of 1845 from the same mould.
Hassell. I am guilty of uttering the two bad half-crowns.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. HARNSWORTH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
After the commencement of the case, MR. STRAIGHT stated that he had advised the prisoner to withdraw his plea and Plead Guilty, and the prisoner having in the hearing of the Jury admitted his guilty they found a verdict of GUILTY . He received a good character— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM EDWARD FOLLIT . I live at 41, Manor Road—Mrs. Dewsbury is my wife's sister—I am an accountant, and have money of Mrs. Dewsbury, for the purpose of lending it out, which is the reason that there is a banking account in the name of Follit and Dewsbury, and the security is in the names of Follit and Dewsbury—on 20th November the defendant came to me; I had never seen him before—he gave his name Alfred Whitehead, and wanted a loan of 30l. or 40l.; he said that 30l. nett would suffice—he offered, as security, a bill of sale on his furniture at Stock well—I asked him if he had a pianoforte—he said "Yes, I have got one at the Pantechnicon, but I have had an advance upon it, and that is partly the reason I want this money, to redeem it"—I asked him if there was any rent due; he said "No, it is paid up to Michaelmas." On the 23rd I went to his house 4, Norman Terrace—there was no pianoforte there then—he produced the inventory and said that he did not wish the bill of sale registered till the last day, at all events, because he was about obtaining an appointment to an estate in liquidation at Hammersmith, which would bring him into funds, and if the bill was registered it might injure him in getting that appointment—he said that he had received some income from his wife
which might assist him, and he might get rid of the bill of sale—I next saw him on the 24th, I think, and the money was paid on the 25th, when I saw him at my house—I met him that day according to appointment at 6, Longford Terrace, Mr. Harris's house—the bill of sale had then been prepared; this is it (produced), it had been agreed that the bill was to be for 50l., to cover interest and expenses for 12 months—he executed this bill of sale, and this inventory (produced) is copied from the one he supplied me with—he signed and made this declaration at the same time, and before he executed the bill of sale. (This stated that the pianoforte, chimney-glass, and hearth-rug were his own property, and that he had not charged his goods with any sum of money, except the goods at the Bedford Pantechnicon) he also signed a promissory note, and I paid 49l. 8s., the full amount of the bill of sale—the amount the defendant got was 19l., 10s.; 11l. was to be deducted by agreement until he produced the pianoforte—I went to his house on the 29th; he opened the door to me—I said "Have you got the pianoforte?"—he said "Yes, all right"—I went into the parlour; there was a pianoforte there, made by Tolkein, and I paid the prisoner the 11l.—on the 14th I wrote to the prisoner, as the time for registration expired on the 17th, and said that unless it was paid on the following day it must be registered—when the deed was executed I said "Well, I expect the receipt for the rent," and he handed me this piece of paper to show that the rent was paid—I received this letter in reply to one of mine about registering the bill of sale: "December 7th. Dear sir, I think I shall be able to pay you back the bill of sale by Thursday next; so you will not require to register it before next Thursday, and I will call on you then. Yours respectfully, A. N. Whitehead. To W. Follit, Esq."—he called on the 15th and said that he should not be able to pay it off—I said "I think I can manage it; a friend of mine will lend you the money"—he said that he should be very glad—before that he said "Cannot the bill of sale be renewed?"—I said "No, it must be a fresh one altogether"—I applied to Mr. Lee and got his cheque—on 16th December I prepared another bill of sale for Mr. Lee, which he executed, it is a copy of my bill of sale—my first bill had to be got rid of to prevent it being registered; it was paid off—I did not tear off the name, as it is now, till two or three days afterwards—the promissory note was returned to him, and he gave me this one in lieu of it—this is his signature—this (produced) is the cheque I gave him, and he put his name on the back of it—out of this 50l. my bill of sale was paid off and cancelled, and then Mr. Lee stood as the person—there was no intercourse between him and Mr. Lee; they were strangers—I parted with my 19l. 10s. on 19th November, on the bill of sale, and on the representation that he had a pianoforte, and that the rent was paid—I searched the list to see whether there was any Alfred Whitehead there, and there was not; but I have found it since—Walter being the Christian name, it escaped my attention—I believed the pianoforte I saw was the one from the Bedford Pantechnicon, and I parted with my 11l. think-in he had redeemed it—I parted with Mr. Lee's cheque, believing the same representations—the glass lustres, chimney-glasses, and hearth-rug were at his house at that time—on December 23rd I saw a report in the newspapers, and on the 27th I seized the goods on behalf of Mr. Lee, and removed them—the prisoner called one evening at my house, and I told him the report I had seen in the newspaper that he had been on his trial for fraud respecting this very pianoforte—I was summoned to the Police Court—Mr. Ellison inquired into it, dismissed me, and sent the prisoner for trial.
Prisoner. Q. When did I call on you? A. On November 20th; my books show that (producing them)—I got this guarantee on the 24th (Signed R. James, November 24th, 1871)—the piano was not down in the inventory, when I saw it, and I asked you to put it down, and the glass, and the lustres—when I asked you for a receipt for the rent you handed it to me—the cheque for 50l. was paid into my bank, and the money is there now—12l. 10s. interest was to be paid to Mr. Lee for twelve months—7l. 10s. was charged for the expenses of the old bill of sale—6l. 18s. was the balance between the interest charged by Lee and the old bill of sale—the new bill was for 50l.—I received an I O U for 3l. for the expenses of the new bill of sale—my commission was for Lee's loan, for finding it for you—I charged 7l. 10s. for three weeks, under certain circumstances; 6l. 10s. was the nett amount—I got Mr. James's guarantee the same day—I had the authority in blank to sell the goods—it is dated the 23rd, but I wrote it on the 26th—I dated it back, because Mr. Lee had signed it on the Sunday, which is a dies non—I entered the house with the broker, and removed the things to the auction-rooms—I left the children their beds to lie on; there were two or three mattrasses; there were more than two mattrasses at first, and I did not see one sold—there was sufficient goods to pay all demands, but not if Mr. Baughan's goods were taken away—Mr. Baughan made a demand on Mr. Marshall, the auctioneer. (The prisoner put a great many other questions to the witness, which THE COURT decided to be irrelevant).
Re-examined. This is the 12l. 10s. cheque (produced) that I gave Mr. Lee—that left 37l. 10s. in my hands to pay off the old bill of sale—I remember no letter, except that of 7th December, and a postcard—if I were to charge the prisoner with the expenses of all, there would be 10l. deficiency, and that does not include the loss I have sustained at his hands—if the loan had continued for twelve months, I should have enforced for the full amount—I should not have enforced the bill of sale if I had not seen what was in the newspapers.
WILLIAM EDMUND GARSTON . I am the son of William O. Garston, of 4, Norman Terrace—this agreement was signed by the defendant for the taking of that house—(This was dated 13th July. Rent 25l. Term, three years'. Signed, Walter Alfred Whitehead)—this receipt is not in my father's writing nor written by his authority—all his receipts are on printed forms—the prisoner has paid no rent at all—application has been made by letter, for the rent, and this is the reply; "4, Norman Terrace, November, 8, 1871. To G. D. Garstin, Esq. Sir,—In answer to your letter of the 25th instant, I beg to say I will forward you your rent the end of next week or will call on you myself. Yours respectfully, W. A. Whitehead."—he has never called or paid.
Prisoner. Q. Did you receive one letter after that? A. No I did not receive a letter stating that I should be paid two quarters when Mrs. Whitehead received her dividends.
Re-examined. My father expects to get his rent when he lets a house.
HUGH MCMILLAN . I am a grocer—in October, 1870, I found it necessary to call my creditors together—I had some furniture and a pianoforte made by Harling—I had it twelve months, and paid him for it—my friends provided money and bought it, and the trustees were aware that it was my property—this letter came from the trustees to the defendant—the defendant gave me the money to buy the furniture; it was bought in for the trustees, and these are the receipts for the money (produced)—the furniture was
then removed from Shepherd's Bush to Whitford Street—the whole of this money was provided by my friends and relations—the pianoforte was removed with it, and money was subsequently raised on it by bill of sate, by Mr. Baughan—I went on paying off the bill of sale of Mr. Baughan—I gars the money to Whitehead to pay—I had part of the money from Mr. Baughan—I did not have the whole, because I owed Mr. Whitehead some money—I had nothing to do with putting the piano into the bill of sale—the furniture was removed in March or April from Whitford Street, by Whitehead—I knew it; I was there, and he said he was going to put the piano into the Pantechnicon—I had no portion of the ten guineas—I did not see the pianoforte afterwards—Mr. Harling's name was on it—I had no knowledge of his pledging it to Mr. Follit—I appeared at Hammersmith Police Court as a witness against him, early in November I think—I knew of its removal, but did not know of its being pledged there—after the seizure on Mr. Lee's bill of sale, I went and saw the furniture at the auction rooms—I recognised a Chest of drawers, a marble washhand-stand and fittings, and some carpets, my property, which had been at Whitford Street, where I lived, and which the prisoner had removed to Norman Terrace, without my knowledge.
COURT. Q. How could furniture be taken out of your house without your knowing it? A. A bill of sale was taken by the prisoner, and I could not keep up the payment—he said that he would pay off Mr. Baughan, and he allowed me to remove two rooms of furniture, which I did, and went away from Whitford Street, leaving all the furniture there, except that of the two rooms, which I removed—I did not know of his removing it.
Prisoner. Q. I believe there was a liquidation in 1871. A. Yes—my trustees were Izzard and Bette—they did not refuse to sell me the furniture, but I had not got the money—I got it from the country, from my friends—I owed you money—one amount I handed over to you was 20l., but that was to buy furniture for me—I did not owe you money at that time—I paid you 12l. on the evening of 23rd December 1870—I got 18l. from my wife's mother—the whole amount for buying the furniture was 43l.—you had the 36l. which I received from Mr. Conway in liquidation—I do not think Conway's money was all paid before Baughan's Bill of Sale was ever thought of—the piano was included in the 42l. when the furniture was sold—nothing was said to you about the piano not belonging to me, but a note came on 24th December, which I received and gave to you—you hired the van to move the furniture, and paid for it—you took the house for me—you took it from Mr. Wilmot, and it changed hands afterwards—the furniture belonged to me—but what I moved away was a very small quantity, there was about 20l. left to be paid off—you bought my coals but you had all the money from me—I knew that you were going to mortgage the furniture for 30l.—you did not tell me that I should have it back by paying off Mr. Baughan—it belonged to me, and I can bring witnesses to prove that the whole of the money was paid—I did not buy it myself because I had not got the money—I left the house I think in April, 1871—I do not know the value of the furniture I left behind, but I know that I have had to pay for it again. (THE COURT again informed the Prisoner that his questions were irrelevant.
Re-examined. I never represented the piano as my property; I told my trustees that it was not—the letter came at 12 o'clock; it was addressed to Mr. Whitehead; he opened it and showed it to me—it stated "With regard
to the pianoforte, you perfectly understand we have not sold it to you"—we were removing the property at that time—with reference to the equity of redemption, I paid 20l. towards the option of purchase—if I had paid the full amount, no hiring would have been charged—the prisoner told me that the money raised on ray furniture was 30l.; I afterwards found that it was 40l.—I gave him the money to pay the instalments, but cannot say that he paid them—I know that after the arrangement was made Mr. Baughan came down upon me for 15l., and I had to pay it—I saw my furniture at the auction-rooms.
Prisoner. Q. How do you know the property you saw? A. I knew the toilet-set because it was cracked in one place—I swear to the mahogany towel-horse by the make of it, and because there wag a piece off it, and the chest of drawers was broken.
JOSEPH ALFRED HARLING . I am a pianoforte maker, at Newington—I lent a pianoforte to Mr. McMillan, on hire—I did not part with my property in it, but the hire was to go towards the purchase—I saw the same pianoforte afterwards at the Bedford Pantechnicon.
Prisoner. Q. Have you refused to take the balance? A. Never—I made a claim for 34l. 13s.; I received 20l., and the price was 34l. 13s.—I made that claim because I did not know anything about you—I wanted the pianoforte back—I threatened you for not paying the 34l., because the piano was not lent to you—you knew nothing of the transaction between me and Mr. McMillan.
JAMES LAWRENCE LYME . On April 26th the prisoner deposited a pianoforte, made by Harling, at the Bedford Pantechnicon—this (produced) is his writing—he got the ten guineas—no other article was deposited—I have got the article still—I know nothing of Mr. Harling.
ALFRED ENNIS . I am assistant to Mr. Tolkien, a pianoforte maker, of King William Street, City—I produce a receipt. (This was for a pianoforte, at 16s. 8d. per month, signed Walter Alfred Whitehead). There was no option of purchase—he paid 2l. 10s. in advance—it was seized under Lee's bill of sale—we have got it back.
Prisoner. Q. Have not I known Mr. Tolkien some time? A. Yes; it was a new instrument; the cost was 40l.; but if you had paid for it is January, you were to pay us thirty guineas down.
WILLIAM HENRY SEYMOUR . I am clerk to Mr. Baughan, of Southampton Buildings—about January 11th I went to Whitford Street, New Road, Hammersmith, and took an inventory of the whole of the furniture—I have since seen the furniture in the auctioneer's hands—McMillan was still there in January, 1871—some time after December 27th I went to Such & Marshall's Rooms, and saw some furniture there—it was previous to the last Session of this Court—I found there a portion of the furniture which I had put in the inventory—these are the defendant's signatures—he signs Walter Alfred Whitehead—my bill of sale was registered in that name.
Prisoner. Q. What goods did you see at Mr. Such's? A. A mahogany chest of drawers, and washhand-stand and towel-horse, worth about 5l—to the best of my belief they were the same—there is a balance still owing for the debt and costs—the goods were sold some two or three months back with your written permission, and realised 13l.
Re-examined. That was after Mr. Lee had been summoned to Hammersmith Police Court, and before he was committed for trial—the charge was still pending against him in December.
HENRY RUMBELOW WATSON . I am clerk to Mr. Hollingsworth, of 13, High Holborn—I saw the prisoner at the office in reference to a loan—I saw him sign this declaration there (produced)—I tilled it up, and he signed It "Walter Alfred Whitehead"—I said "You must certainly know your own name"—he said that it was a mistake.
ROBERT PARTRIDGE . I am a surveyor, of Cheapside—in September, 1871, the defendant owed me 19l. 13s., and he owes it now—this is one of the cheques—I got no consideration for it—I knew that he bad given a bill at three months.
W. E. FOLLIT (re-examined). I served a copy of this subpoena, on George C. James a few days before last Session.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that the furniture sold, and upon which the 30l. was borrowed, could not be replaced for 200l., which he contended did not look like a fraud; and that it being the prosecutor's proposal to put the pianoforte into the inventory, there was no false pretence at to that, and that the receipt for the rent was never mentioned.
GUILTY — Four Months' Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WHITELEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE BROWN the Defence.
EMILY NUTLEY . I am the wife of Thomas Nutley, a publican, at Golden Lane, Kent Street, Borough—I know the prisoner as a customer—on 29th December she was indebted to me 13s. 5 1/2 d. for money lent, and drink between her and her husband—she pawned her wedding-ring in the afternoon, and gave me the ticket over the bar, to keep for her as a security for the debt—she was quite sober at the time—this is the ticket—I kept it—on 31st January she came to the public-house, but the day before that she had been quarrelling with a woman, and I was obliged to turn them out of the house, and refused to serve them for their bad conduct—next day she came, and I refused to serve her and her husband, and then she demanded the ticket of me—I said "When you pay what you owe you shall have it"—she said "I won't pay you a farthing; I will go and make an affidavit that I have lost the ticket"—the next day I went to Mr. Amhurst's, the pawnbroker, and I found she had made an affidavit, and had pawned a shawl the same day, and taken the ring out.
AMY PRICE . I am a widow—I reside with Mrs. Nutley, and serve occasionally—I remember the prisoner coming into the bar, and demanding her pawn-ticket of Mrs. Nutley—she said "Will you give me my pawn-ticket?"—Mrs. Nutley said "No, not until you pay me what you owe me," and then she said she would go and take an affidavit that she had lost it, because Mrs. Nutley refused to supply her and her husband, through the quarrels they had had prievously.
High Street, Borough—the prisoner pawned a ring with us on 29th December, and I gave her that ticket—on 31st January she came and asked me for an affidavit for a ring she had pawned for 10s.—I asked her what she had done with the ticket, and she said she had lost it—I produced the ring; she said it was her property, so I granted her the affidavit—I gave her this declaration, and filled it in in her presence, and she took it away—I did not read it over to her, but I asked her the necessary questions—the declaration was brought back in the afternoon by a little boy, and I delivered the ring to him.
Cross-examined. I filled up the whole of that, and wrote the words "The mark of Mary Ann Holland," and she made a cross.
JOHN ELMES (Policeman M 202). I am a warrant-officer attached to the Southwark Police Court—declarations have to come through my hands and I stamp them at the corner, the prisoner brought this, and I asked if it was her name and her property stated in the declaration—she said "Yes"—I asked whether she had lost the ticket, and she said "Yes"—I asked her if she had transferred it to anyone, and she said "No"—that was done in the warrant-officer's room—I stamped it and it was passed in to the Magistrate by the ushers of the Court, and it was signed by him—this is his signature.
Cross-examined. No one was in the room but me and the woman—I did not see her make that mark—the "W. P." are the initials of Mr. Partridge—we are appointed by the Commissioners of Police.
MR. HORACE BROWN submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury. It was laid down, in "Roscoe's Digest" that the occasion of the making the affirmation must be proved as laid. Here the indictment charged that the defendant made the affirmation before William Partridge, Esq., a Justice of the Peace, whereas the fact was that the warrant-officer was the only person who acted in the matter. MR. WHITELEY urged that all that the woman had to do was to satisfy the Justice that the property was hers, and the fact that it was signed by him would be evidence that he was satisfied that it did. THE COURT: "The question is whether the declaration made by a Police Constable in the next room can be said to be made before the Magistrate himself; I am rather disposed to think it is not sufficient, I think it must be made before him. I have consulted MR. BARON CHANNELL, and he has grave doubts whether it will do, and he suggests that I should reserve the point if necessary."
The Jury, however, found the Prisoner NOT GUILTY .
MR. WHITELEY conducted the Prosecution
WILLIAM NETTLINGHAM (Policeman V 151). On the 16th August, 1870, about 6.30 I met the prisoner and another man named William Turner, on the Small wood Road, Tooting—they were each carrying a bag—I asked them what they had got in the bags, they made no answer at first and I asked them again, and they said they had some grub—I told them I wanted to see what it was, and they refused to let me see, and said if I wanted to see I should have to take them to the station—they went on
about 150 yards down the main road, and the prisoner took hold of me ground the throat, and Turner, who is convicted, took my truncheon—I felt for it and found it was gone—I looked and saw it in Turner's hands after it came crack on my head—the prisoner was holding me, and Turner kept striking me with the truncheon till it broke—the prisoner kicked me the whole of the time and struck me with his fist and, cut my lip—I fell down after the fourth blow came on my head—when I was down they both got on the top of me—the prisoner kicked me and the other one beat me with the fragments of the truncheon—the prisoner said "Will, murder him; don't let him get up again"—Tisdale came to my assistance—he said "you call that fair play, knocking that poor fellow about"—immediately they heard his voice they jumped up and ran off—I saw Turner go to the hedge and I caught hold of his leg and pulled him back into the road, but this prisoner got away—I fainted afterwards—there were a lot of wounds on my head—I bled very much and soaked everything I had on—I was under the doctor's hands from 16th August till 27th November—the prisoner hit me with his clenched first and cut my lip—I am quite sure he is the man.
Prisoner. I did not strike him at all, I only held him.
SAMUEL TISDALE . I am a gardener—on 16th August, 1870, I was going to my garden, about 6.30 in the morning—I heard a cry for help, and I ran up—I saw two men beating the policeman—one was beating him with a staff and the other was kicking him—I can't swear that the prisoner was one of them—I called out "Is it fair to kick a man when he is on the ground?"—the man who has been convicted, ran to the left, and the other to the right—a young man who was behind me ran after one, and I ran to help Nettlingham, who had got the other by the leg as he was getting over the hedge—I laid him on his back and throttled him, and knelt on him—Nettlingham fell on the ground, and laid there twenty minutes—I got some men to help him up—he was in a very bad state—it took two men to take him to the station—I took the other prisoner to the station myself—the policeman was smothered with blood.
EDWIN BEST . I live at the New Merton Road, where it happened—I am a nurseryman—on 16th August, last year, about 6.30 in the morning, I saw the two men and the policeman coming across the field—they got into the main road, and the prisoner here caught the policeman round the shoulders and got him on the ground; the other one took his truncheon and struck him on the head several hard blows—Hr. Tisdale came up and assisted the policeman, and the other prisoner was taken—I did not see anything of this prisoner afterwards—the constable was covered with blood and dust—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man who was there—I had seen him before.
WILLIAM SLOANE (Police Inspector V). I took the prisoner into custody at Hounslow; he was is bed—I told him he was charged with stealing geese, and for several burglaries, and assaulting the constable—he made no reply.
Prisoner. I am sorry for what happened. GUILTY.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted on 9th May, 1864. Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
WRIGHT PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution and MR. A. B. KELLEY defended adams.
GEORGE EPHRAIM GRANT . I am a dairyman, at Hamilton Road, Lower Norwood—Wright was in my employment for a week—I discharged him on 20th January—on 23rd January I saw him and about a dozen others near my place—I went out on Tuesday evening, and returned about 11 o'clock—I found the back door closed, but not securely—I locked it, and left the key in—I went to bed, and came down between 5 and 6 o'clock in the morning—I found the door unlocked and open—I missed a coat, some bread and cheese, and a gold chain from the mantelpiece, twelve order-books, and some meat—I have seen the order-books, and identify them—I was present when Adams was taken into custody—I had seen him the day before the robbery.
JOHN ROBINSON (Policeman W 257). On Wednesday morning, about 8.30, I met Wright in the Junction Road, South Norwood, with another man who they call Watercress Jack—they were carrying sacks—I stopped them and searched their sacks, and found property which Mr. Grant has since identified.
JOHN HOLMES (Detective Officer P). I saw Adams on Wednesday, 24th January, with Watercress Jack, on Gipsy Hill, who ran away—I stopped Adams, and handed him over to Mr. Grant, who was there—I told him he would be taken to the station on suspicion of being concerned in Mr. Grant's robbery—he said "All I know about it, I was in the tap-room of the Coalby Arms, on Monday night, with young Wright and Watercress Jack, and I heard them talking about the robbery; I was not concerned in it; I went to bed on Tuesday night at 11 o'clock"—he was taken to the station, but Robinson failed to identify him, so I let him go—I took him again on Thursday night, after Wright was apprehended—he said he could not say more than he did the night before.
Cross-examined. He said, the night before, that he was not concerned in it.
WILLIAM HEALY . I am potman at the Coalby Arms—on Monday night, 22nd January, I saw Wright and Adams in the tap-room—Wright showed me an old Albert chain, and asked me to buy it for 8s., but I would not have it—Adams said nothing about it
ADAMS— NOT GUILTY .
WRIGHT†also PLEADED GUILTY, to having been before convicted— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD GRANGE . I live at 31, Great Dover Street, and am manager in the hat department of Messrs. Dunn, the clothier, at Newington Causeway—the prisoner is my wife, and has been for the last fifteen years—I lived with her till a fortnight before this occurrence—I had more than one reason for being dissatisfied with her, and we agreed to separate—I allowed her 6s. a week—my salary was two guineas—I was afterwards compelled to seek the protection of the Magistrate, and then I allowed her 8s. a week—I told her if she annoyed mo I should have to send her back to prison—she said "The next time I go to prison it will be for your death"—I refused to see her after that, and on 20th January she came to my master's premises—she came first of all at 9.15, but I would not see her then—she came again at 12 o'clock in the day, and I went to the door to see her—I said "What do
you want"—I observed something in her right hand, under her cloak—she said "I will show you, you b—"—I ran back into the shop, and she ran after me—knowing very well she had vitriol in her hand, I pulled down a little coat I had there, and put it over my head, turned my head round, and covered my eyes so that it should not go into my eyes—the contents went all over my head, and burnt me—it did not go into my eyes—it went on my neck and burnt me very much, and destroyed my clothes—this is the coat; it was in good condition before the stuff was thrown on it—she had threatened me that if I separated from her she would get vitriol, so as to destroy my eyesight, and destroy my prospects for ever—I was ten days under the care of the doctor.
ALBERT BAKER . I am a cutter at Mr. Dunn's—I know the prosecutor—he has been many years in that employ, and bears a very good character—I remember the prisoner coming on 20th January—her husband went to the door and then ran back, and I saw her throw something over him—the cashier took hold of her, and held her till the police came—she said "I don't care what you do With me if I have injured him, if that has not done for him I shall get something else"—I had some of it on my face, and my clothes were spoilt, and property in the stop was damaged to the amount of 10l.
GEORGE BOURNE (Policeman M 28). I took the prisoner into custody—I took hold of her, and she said "Don't hold me, I will go with you quietly—I am satisfied as long as I have done him some injury"—she was under the influence of drink.
ALFRED GILLINGHAM . I am house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—a little after 12 o'clock on 20th January, the prisoner was brought to the hospital—she was burnt very much—about half-an-hour after Richard Grange was brought in—he was burnt very much on the left side of the face, but worse on the scalp—it was done with nitric acid—I was shown a jug in which there was about a tea-spoonful of nitric acid.
Prisoner's Defence. I deny using the expressions. I also was not separated from my husband; he stayed out all night very often, and illused me—I wanted to know the reason, and he looked me up. I was taken before the Magistrate and discharged. He said he would allow me 6s. I asked him what I was to do, and he told me to go on the streets. I went to ask him for money. I had to pay 2s. for lodgings, and I went for some money, and in the heat of passion I ran across the road and did this; it was quite an act of madness; I did not do it with the intention of hurting him, but simply to frighten him to five me money to go to my sister's.
The prosecutor stated that he separated from the prisoner on account of her drunken habits.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, APRIL 8TH, 1872.