CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
TENTH SESSION, HELD AUGUST 19TH, 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, August 19th, 1872, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR SILLS JOHN GIBBONS, BART., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir JAMES HANNEN, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; The Hon. JOHN RICHARD QUAIN, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir JAMES DUKE , Bart., WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., M.P., Sir BENJAMIN SAMUEL PHILLIPS , Knt., Sir THOMAS GABRIEL , Bart., Sir SIDNEY HEDLEY WATERLOW , Knt., and THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Deputy Recorder and Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.D., Judge of the Sheriff's 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.
Sir FRANCIS WYATT TRUSCOTT, Knt., Alderman.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
GIBBONS, MAYOR. TENTH 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, August 19th, 1872.
Before the Deputy Recorder.
GUILTY —He received a good character— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. METCALFE and GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT defended John Garner.
—INMAN. I am a clerk to Messrs. Vivian—on 6th July I served notices on the three prisoners to produce certain documents—this is a copy (produced).
FREDERICK EDWARD VIVIAN . I am a coal merchant at Swansea for myself, and also act as agent for other firms—on 11th April I received by post this letter dated 10th April, signed John Harvey, 1, Marion Villas, Lansdowne Road, Dalston, asking the price of coals for his nephew at Dieppe—I sent an answer giving the prices, and on 14th April received this letter dated the 13th, signed in the same way—I wrote to him on the 16th, stating the terms for cash—other letters passed between us, I asking for cash and he proposing bills—on 20th April I received this letter dated the 19th. (This enclosed the names of Messrs. Poore & Co. and Messrs. W. Thompson & Co., of 61, Watling Street, as references.) I wrote to Thompson & Co., and got this reply. (This was dated 22nd April, stating that they had had many transactions with Mr. Harvey, and whatever business was entered into with him
would meet with punctuality. I then agreed to ship the cargo, but I never agreed to take bills—they offered me bills, but I declined them—on 9th May he enclosed a draft from Mr. James Standing at two months, dated 1st May—Standing was described as an engineer, of 49, Northampton Row, London, and Buckhurst Hill, Essex—I retained the bill, but advised Harvey that the captain would not accept it in part payment of freight—I proposed a meeting, and ultimately, on 17th May, met John Garner, who called himself Johnson, at Kennan's Hotel—he brought this letter. (This stated, "Whatever arrangement you make will be binding on my part"—JOHN HARVEY.) That "John Harvey" is in the same writing as a previous letter—I declined to give up the bills of lading without the money—he said that I had better take them back—I said that if he was prepared to give me good bills I would take them in payment—ten or fifteen minutes passed, and he said that he had some bills of exchange at home, and though he had no authority from Harvey to part with them, he would do so, as the vessel was probably at her destination—he also produced a cheque, and said "I wish I could endorse it to you"—he left me, and in the course of an hour came again, and produced these two bills of exchange, and afterwards one other was drawn—I returned the one drawn on Standing—it was arranged that those four bills should be held by me as collateral security—I saw Johnson sign this bill in the name of John Harvey, and it struck me that the writing was the same as the letters I received—I said "I have got a letter confirming our arrangement," and he wrote this letter in my presence—I said "I am astonished to see your writing so much like John Harvey's"—he said "My brother-in-law is a self-raised man, he is unable to write, and I do the whole of his correspondence; he is a very respectable man, and very well off"—he accepted the bill, payable at the Bank of England; he said, "All Harvey's bills are payable at the Bank of England; everything is paid there"—I asked him the name of his nephew at Rouen; he said "John Harvey," and then I made a pencil memorandum—I told him I did not know either of the names on those bills, and asked for a reference—he said "I don't know that they would care about having their names hawked about, they are very respectable people; but if they do not pay, John Harvey is quite capable of paying," and I did not write to them—he said that Henry Pool was an iron and steel factor, and that these bills were given for iron and steel, and were regular trade bills; that Freeman was a Government contractor, and a very respectable man, and John Harvey had dealings with him, and all his bills were met—after that conversation I kept the bills, and endorsed the bill of lading over to him—the ship had left two or three days previously—here is the bill of lading which we endorsed—I paid the bills to our banker, and in consequence of what he said I came up and put myself in communication with the police, and wrote to say that I should be at Kennan's Hotel on the following Monday—I received this letter from a person signing the name of Buckley—I went with Sergeant Peck to Kennan's Hotel, and met a person who called himself William Buckley, who said he had full authority from Johnson and Harvey to enter into business with me; that one of them was at Hull and the other at Sunderland—he said that he was a coal factor, doing business at King's Cross and Chalk Farm—we had some conversation about coal, and I proposed to telegraph to Johnson to come up and see me—he went away with that intention, and I went off to Dieppe the same evening, where I found the vessel with the coals on board, minus 10 tons out of 330—that was 24th May, I think—I saw the
bill of lading; it was endorsed first by myself to Harvey, and from Harvey to John Hart—the Harts are large brokers and merchants at Dieppe—I sold the coal at 15s.; the invoice came to 247l. 10s.—the coal was sold by Hart for 202l., or 55l. less than the cost price—after some conversation with Hart, I went to Hilton's Hotel, Dieppe, and, after some conversation with the landlord, I found John Garner in bed there, though Hart had told me he had left for Rouen—I had some difficulty in waking him, until I put a candle to his nose—I then told him that he had better not leave for 24 hours at least, my object being that he should leave—I went on board the boat for England a few hours afterwards, thinking he was on board, but he was too sharp for me, and two days afterwards I found him in custody in London—I am satisfied that he is the person who called himself Johnson—William Garner was also taken; he is the man who came to me as Buckley.
Poore. Q. How long ago did you take my bill of exchange? A. On 17th May, the same day as the others—the ship started on 12th May, and I received your bill on the 11th from Johnson—she had sailed two days when I saw Mr. Garner in the City—a bill was sent in advance on account of freight a week before, as the charter-party states that one-third is to be paid before starting—I had written that the vessel was loading, and that I should be glad to receive a cheque for 50l.—I telegraphed to ask for the money, but it was not forthcoming—I came up to London on the Sunday to get my money before the ship started, and went to Kennan's Hotel—I went to Mr. Harvey, at Lansdowne Terrace, and saw a lady, who opened the door; that was about 7th or 8th May—I called at Mr. Harvey's house twice the same morning—I do not know whether the ship had sailed when I went back home, and saw Johnson at Swansea; he gave me your bill of exchange—I only saw him once there; the second time was at Dieppe, in bed—I had nothing to do with you.
Re-examined. I would not have parted with the cargo if I had not believed the names to be genuine; I believed them to be trade bills—I have been to his place; there is no appearance of steel or of any business being carried on; it is merely a common cottage in the Hackney Road.
JOHN HILL . I live at 4, Collins Court, and am housekeeper at 61, Watling Street—I keep the keys, and am there every day—about eighteen months ago Thompson and a stoutish man, whose name I did not hear, but who appeared like a German, came, and an office on the first floor was let to them for 12l. a year—a table and two chairs were put in—I saw no books—no business was carried on there to my knowledge—one of them came every day for letters, and was there ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, and went away again—I did not see Thompson there after the day he took the office—the name put up was Thompson and Co.—about three months ago the people at the office disappeared, and have not been there since—somebody took away the table and chairs when I was out.
JOHN MARSDEN . I am a commercial traveller, of Prospect Place, Cambridge Heath—I know the three prisoners; I have seen them together, but do not know Hart—I have seen them pass my place, going down Russia Lane—three or four months ago I met John Garner in the Prince of Wales public-house, opposite my house—he showed me a telegram from a coal merchant—I do not know where; I did not read it—he wanted to know whether I could recommend a respectable hotel in the City to meet a gentleman at, and he asked me if I would go and meet him for him, and say that
he had gone to Hull—I said that I should do nothing of the kind—he said he would pay me well if I would go, but I declined—William Garner owed me some money, and John Garner said that if I called down at Mr. Day's next morning I should have some of my money—I have never been asked by either of them to be a reference, and never authorized them to use my name.
HENRY THOMAS . I live at 79, Whitecross Street—I am landlord of 1, Marion Villas, Dalston, which I let to Mr. Garner in the name of James Andrews, coal merchant, Pownall Road, Dalston—the rent commenced on 25th March—he referred me to Barrett, Conns & Co., 4, Cannon Row, Westminster, contractors and merchants—I went there and saw no one but the housekeeper—I wrote, and received an answer from the firm, I suppose—I saw him sign the agreement in the name of James Andrews.
ELIZABETH DOVE . I live at 18, Triangle Street, Dalston—19, Philip's Road, Dalston, belongs to my mother—in the middle of last March Poore came and gave the name of Mander—he wanted to take the house for himself, and referred to Barrett, Conns & Co., of Westminster—I communicated with them, received a satisfactory answer, and let the house to him—William Garner took possession, and said that he was the brother of Mr. Marsden, and was a coal merchant at King's Cross—he said that he had come for the keys of the house for his brother—I have known John Garner as Mr. Lavender—he lived in our street two or three years.
Poore. Q. Did I say that I wanted the house for Mr. Marsden? A. No, for yourself and two children as big as yourself—you gave me Mr. Marsden's address as Lansdowne Terrace, Victoria Park—I did not see you at the house, but others did.
CHARLES NEWTON . I am landlord of 2, Elam Road, Dalston—about 22nd April I let that house to William Garner in the name of John Harvey—he gave a reference to Henry Poore, 56, Lansdowne Road, Dalston—I went there, and saw Mrs. Poore—I afterwards received a letter stating that Poore would call on me at 11 o'clock next morning, and next morning John Garner called and represented himself to be Poore, and in the evening he brought me this letter—(Read: "April 24. Dear Sir, Please give the bearer the key of the house I have taken of you; being engaged, I cannot make it convenient to call myself. Yours truly, John Harvey"—Poore then took possession.
HENRY JAMES DYER . I am landlord of 15, Pownall Road, Dalston—about Christmas John Garner called on me, he gave his name John Cook, commission agent, and expressed a desire to take the house—he referred me to where he was residing, 9, Haslett Road, Old Ford, to Mr. Cobb, his land-lord, a drysalter—I went there, and saw two females and a child—my inquiries were quite satisfactory, and I let the house to him—I gave him a fortnight after the rent became due before I applied for the rent, but I never got it—I got the key about a month after quarter day.
GEORGE POWELL . I live at 56, Brownlow Street, Dalston—in November last Poore took three rooms of me—he gave his name Henry Poore, and lived there from the end of November to 26th April—my rent was paid.
WILLIAM PECK (Detective Sergeant). I know the prisoners, and have often seen them together—I do not know Hart—on 27th May I received instructions, went to Kennan's Hotel, and saw William Garner; he gave
the name of Buckley—I went with Mr. Vivian to Dieppe, and on 31st May I received a communication from Mr. Vivian, at Swansea, in consequence of which I took John Garner in the Hackney Road—the warrant was in the name of Harvey—he said "I am not Harvey, and never have been"—I said "I know that perfectly well"—I went to his house, 1, Lansdowne Villas, Dalston, and found a quantity of letters, telegrams, and papers, and three pawn-tickets in the names of Garner, Gardner, and Garnett—I found some mining shares and some Spanish bonds in his pocket; I also found some letters and telegrams relating to this matter—I went to the Globe public-house, Hackney Road, and saw Poore, William Garner, a man named Standing, and another man, together there—it was 10 or 11 o'clock in the evening—I went into the next compartment, and heard them talking about the arrest of John Garner; Poore said "They can't do anything with Jack"—there was a good deal of noise, and I could not catch much of the conversation—I then went to the compartment where they were, and told Poore he must consider himself in custody on a warrant—I called him by name; he said 'Yes, that is me"—I addressed William Garner; he said "Yes, how do you know my name?"—I said "I have known you some time"—I showed him the letters signed "Harvey" and "Buckley," and he said "Those are in my writing"—Standing gave his address 49, Northampton Road, Clerkenwell—Poore gave his address, at the station, 2, Eleanor Row, Hackney, and William Garner gave his address 19, St. Philip's Road, Dalston—I went there; it is a small house—Poore's was a small house; there was no appearance of an iron or steel factory—William Garner took some papers out of his coat pocket as he was standing against the counter, and tried to pass them to another man—I found, on Poore, some papers, and a letter addressed "Mr. Standing, 49, Northampton Road," also a paper with "F. E. Vivian, Coal Merchant, Swansea," on it—the name "John Harvey" has been bracketed with it, but it is torn—here are two letters, one addressed "H. Burnett, Esq., 2, Eleanor Road, Hackney," and the other "Mr. H. Barnett"—the packet of papers I took from William Garner includes a card with the name of "William Buckley, 6, Clinton Road, Mile End Road," on it, I think, but it is in pencil, and almost illegible—I also found some bonds and coupons of a Spanish bank (produced), and a letter addressed to Garner, and a piece of paper addressed "Mr. John Hart, at Mr. Hilton's, Hotel d'Angleterre, Dieppe"—I have made inquiries at 9, Hewlett Road, for a person named Freeman, the other acceptor of the bill, but cannot find hi; a statement was made about him, which I believe to be false—Standing occupied one furnished room, without any appearance of business—I have not been able to find Mr. Thompson, or Mr. Hart—there was another piece of paper, on which was written "Henry Davey, Swansea," and below, "Mr. H. E. Vivian, 1, Mount Street, Swansea."
William Garner produced a written defence, stating that he wrote the two letters at the request of Mrs. John Garner, and signed them in the name of Buckley; that he also, at her request, her husband being absent, met Mr. Vivian at Kennan's Hotel, but that he never had any trade transactions with John Garner, who never allowed him to know anything about his business.
MR. STRAIGHT stated that he could not resist the evidence against John Garner.
William Garner further
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of a like offence in March, 1869. Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
NEW COURT.—Monday, August 19th, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BATTS . I keep the White Swan public-house, Commercial Road—on Saturday, 29th June, I saw the prisoner, at the bar—directly after the barman came to me and produced a base florin—I saw it was bad; the prisoner said he was not aware of it—I said "I do not believe it, as there have been several pieces passed this week, and I believe you are the person who passed them; I shall lock you up"—I had taken four bad pieces between the Monday and Saturday evening; since that time I have not had any—I had seen the prisoner in the house three times that same week—I gave him into custody, and gave the bad florin to the constable.
JOSEPH WINTER . I am barman to Mr. Batts—on 29th June the prisoner came in and asked for a half-quartern of rum—he gave me a bad florin—I had seen him in the house that week about three times, if not four—I had taken bad money during that week.
GEORGE BOURNE (Policeman K 662). I took the prisoner into custody—he said he did not know it was bad when he gave it—I had said nothing before that; I had not charged him—I found 19s. 10 1/2 d. in good coin on him, consisting of a crown, two half-crowns, four florins, one shilling, one sixpence, and 4 1/2 d. copper—I produce the bad florin.
GUILTY —He also
PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in January, 1870. Two Years' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
CHARLES HARMAN . I am a corn dealer at 259, Roman Road—on 1st May the prisoner came into my shop for a pound of flour—she gave me a shilling, and I gave her 9 3/4 d. change—I found afterwards the shilling was bad—on 20th May she came in again for a half-quartern of flour, which was 3 1/2 d.—she gave me a shilling—I kept it in my hand as I took it off the counter, and I did not notice it till after she was gone, when I found it was bad—I gave it to the detective.
Cross-examined. I have a good many customers—I have seen the prisoner plenty of times buying flour—the first shilling she gave me I put in the till, and the detective came in and said, "What did the lady give you?"—I put the shilling into the till in the ordinary way—there was other silver there.
Re-examined. I did not look at the shilling till the detective came in—there were two shillings in the till—he came in about half a minute after I received the shilling—I had taken no other shilling.
ANN FRY . I live at 492, Mile End Road, and keep a ginger-beer shop—on 4th July the prisoner and another woman came—I should know the other woman if I saw her—that is the woman (Chapman—See next case)—they came in together, and Peck asked for two bottles of ginger-beer—I can't say which of them put the shilling down; it was lying on the counter at the time I opened the beer—I gave 10d. change, all in copper—Peck
took up the change—I put the shilling into the till; there was no other shilling there—shortly after the constable Withers came in, and I looked at the shilling and found it was bad—I marked it, and gave it to the constable—no one came in after the prisoners left till the constable came in.
Cross-examined. The money in the till was a florin, a sixpence, and 4d. piece, besides coppers—I could not say which of them paid for the ginger-beer.
HENRY WITHERS (Policeman K 453). I was on duty in the Mile End Road on 4th July, and saw Peck and Chapman—they went into Mrs. Fry's shop—I saw them come out, and I went in—I saw her mark this shilling with a cross and I marked it with a "W"—I then followed the prisoners into the Roman Road—Chapman left Peck and went into a butcher's shop, and when she come out she joined Peck—I took them into custody—Peck had 13 1/2 d. in copper—I produce the shilling passed to Mrs. Fry and two others.
GUILTY —She also
PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in January, 1870.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. A. B. KELLEY the Defence.
CAROLINE BARRUCK . I am assistant to Mrs. Burton, a draper at High Street, Stratford—on 1st March Chapman came into the shop and asked for a hair net, which came to 3 3/4 d.—she gave me a shilling in payment—I gave the shilling to Mrs. Burton, and I asked her in Chapman's hearing if it was good—she put it in the detector, and found it was bad—I told Chapman it was bad, and I marked it.
HELEN BURTON . On 1st March Chapman came into my shop, and was served by the last witness, who handed me a shilling—I tried it, and found it bad—I asked Chapman if she knew it was bad, she said she did not—I asked her where she came from, she said she came from Kingsland—I gave her into custody, and gave the shilling to the constable.
WILLIAM JACKSON (Policeman K 566). I took Chapman into custody at Mrs. Burton's on 1st March—Mrs. Burton gave me a shilling, which I produce—Chapman was brought up before the Ilford Magistrates for uttering it, and discharged on the 9th March.
JOSEPH RICHARDSON . I am a butcher's assistant at 195, Roman Road—on 4th July Chapman came in for a half-pound of steak, which was 6 1/2 d.—she gave me a bad shilling—I bent it and gave it her back, and said "This is bad;" she said "You don't mean to say so," I said "It is"—she paid with a good shilling—she put the bad one in her purse, and left the shop—she dealt with us occasionally—I afterwards went to the station and saw her there.
HENRY WITHERS (Policeman K 453). I saw the two prisoners in the Mile End Road on 4th July—I saw them go into Mrs. Fry's shop and come out together—I went in and spoke to Mrs. Fry, and marked a shilling, which I produce—I then followed the prisoners along the Mile End Road,
and Chapman went into a butcher's shop—Peck waited in sight of the shop—when Chapman came out she joined Peck, but before that I went into the butcher's, and afterwards I followed the prisoners again, when they joined—I took them into custody, and charged them with uttering counterfeit coin—I searched Peck and found 13 1/2 d. in copper, and on Chapman I found a sixpence and 7 1/2 d. in copper—I produce the shillings I received from Fry, Harman, and Richardson.
PECK.— Two Years' Imprisonment.
CHAPMAN.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MOODY the Defence.
SARAH JENKINS . My husband keeps a fish shop at 179, City Road—the prisoner came in on Wednesday, 26th June, between 11 and 12 o'clock at night—he asked for a penny piece of fish—he tendered a bad half-crown—I turned round and told my husband, and the prisoner ran away and left his fish—he was followed and brought back—I gave the half-crown to the constable.
Cross-examined. We were pretty busy—the prisoner saw the half-crown put into the tester, and then he left—I marked the coin.
FRANCIS JENKINS . I saw the prisoner running out of the shop—in consequence of what my wife said I followed him—he was stopped by a constable, and I gave him in charge—he said you have made a mistake, or something of that sort.
Cross-examined. I did not see the person who passed the money—I ran after the person who was pointed out by my wife.
HENRY CROWHURST (Policeman N 156). On 26th June I saw the prisoner running and the prosecutor after him—I caught him—he said "I was only larking;" I said "We will wait and see"—the prosecutor came up and charged him—I took him back to the shop, and the prosecutor's wife identified him—I found a shilling in silver and 5 1/2 d. in copper—the prisoner said "I will give the prosecutor a sovereign and you a sovereign if you will let me go"—on the way to the Police Court he said "You must have been a fool not to have taken my sovereign, there will not be any prosecutor"—I produce a crown given to me by the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. I don't think anyone heard the conversation about the sovereign—he said nothing on the way to the station, it was at the shop that he offered the money—persons round in the shop might have heard it—I searched him in the shop.
PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in February, 1868, of a like offence.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
ELIZA BROOKS . I am barmaid at the Prince of Wales public-house, Engine Street, Piccadilly—previous to Saturday, 6th July, the prisoner lodged there almost three months—he was employed by Mr. East, of Curzon
Street—on 6th July he owed a bill of 6s. 9d., and in payment of that bill he gave me what I supposed was a sovereign—this is the coin, it was brighter than it is now—I detected it, and saw that it was not a sovereign—I gave it to my mistress—she said she felt herself justified in giving him into custody—on the Monday previous the prisoner owed a bill, and gave me what I thought was a sovereign—I gave him change—I placed the coin on the mantel-shelf, behind the door, with the other gold—there was 5l. or 6l., and some of that was in half-sovereigns—my mistress found it the next day.
Cross-examined. He lodged in the house some three or four months—I know his father by sight—I don't know his connections at all; he has always paid his bills regularly at the end of the week without any difficulty—I don't test gold always when I take it—I did not think of his giving us a bad sovereign—I generally jink gold down on the counter—I could not have done it on the 6th July—I did not do it—the sovereign passed on the Monday was found out by my mistress the day after—the prisoner was in the house several times between the time the first Hanover medal was passed and the second—no communication was made to him—I don't remember that he ordered a glass of whiskey on the second occasion—I took the second medal to my mistress at once—she said he was a good-for-nothing fellow; and she felt herself justified in giving him in charge for imposing upon her in that way; and she sent for the police—I had no means of knowing that the prisoner had passed the first one until I found out the second—he said he would take it to the place where he came from and get it changed—Mr. East is a job-master in Curzon Street—he did not have an opportunity of going there—he was detained until the constable came.
ANN MYDDLETON SMITH . I keep the Prince of Wales—I put all the gold into the cash-box at night—on Tuesday, 2nd July, I had occasion to go to the cash-box to give change for a 5l. note—I found a Hanover medal, and called my barmaid's attention to it—I can't say which of these two it was I found—on 6th July the prisoner was in front of the bar—he asked me for 2d. of whiskey; some one called for something else and I ordered my barmaid to serve him, he gave her one of these pieces of money and she passed it to me—I said "You good-for-nothing fellow," or "bad man, how dare you come to take advantage of me; you have passed one before"—he said "If you will give it back to me I will go to my father and take it where I got it from"—I said I should be justified in locking him up—he lodged with me three months—I gave the medals to the constable.
Cross-examined. His father is a respectable man, and is coachman to Lord Greville—the prisoner was served with the whiskey, and I believe he drank it—he always behaved well to me.
WILLIAM HAYES (Policeman C 75). The prisoner was given into my custody by Mrs. Smith on 6th July, who gave me the two medals produced—she said she believed he had passed one before, and she should give him into custody—he said he was not aware it was bad, but he would take it back to his master, Mr. East, and get it changed; the other one he said he received from the Trevor Music Hall—he said the one he changed the Monday previous he had received at the Trevor Music Hall, and the one he had just passed he had received from Mr. East in payment for his wages.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I first saw these medals yesterday morning—they were in the same condition then—they are Hanover medals, and have on one side the head of the Queen and "Victoria Regina;" on the other side "To Hanover," and the King of Hanover riding over the dragon—it is
made of brass and it is worth nothing—they are made from a die, and are no doubt from the same die.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, August 20th, 1872.
Before the Deputy Recorder.
561. STEPHEN MCGOVERN** (30), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, one field glass, of Thomas Crawford and others, having been previously convicted of felony— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
562. HENRY NORRIS (17) , to stealing ten opera-glasses and thirteen gold lockets, the property of Edward George Wood.— He received a good character— Four Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
563. JOHN SKELTON (29) , to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of James Howlett, and stealing therein one counterpane and two blankets, his property— Nine Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
564. GEORGE WARD * (37) , to forging and uttering an order for the payment of 10l., after a previous conviction of felony— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
565. JOHN ANDERSON PAUL (27) , to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 1l. 15s., with intent to defraud; also, to stealing a purse and a half-crown, the property of Elizabeth Stevens— Nine Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. METCALFE and MR. METCALFE, JUN., conducted the Prosecution; and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
JOHN GARDNER . I am one of the officers of the Missing Letter Department—the prisoner was a sorter at the office in Vere Street—in consequence of some complaints, I made up a letter containing two 5l. notes, addressed "Miss M. Leverson, 101, Cirencester Street, London, W."—I posted it myself, between 3 and 4 o'clock on 5th July, having previously called the attention of Wood, the inspector of letter carriers, to it—next morning, shortly after 10 o'clock, the letter was brought to me; the envelope had been opened, and the underneath part of it was damp, the three upper flaps had been forced, and from it had been taken the two 5l. notes—the prisoner was then sent for to the Postmaster's private room—I showed him the letter, and said "This letter has been opened, and two 5l. notes have been taken from it; do you know anything of the notes?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Where are they?"—he put his right hand into his right hand trousers' pocket, and took out two notes crumpled up, which he handed to Rumbold, the police-officer, who was present; Rumbold handed them to me, and I identified them as those I had enclosed in the envelope.
JOHN MATTHEW WOOD . I am Inspector of the Western District—in consequence of an intimation from Mr. Gardner, I went to the Western District Post Office, on the afternoon of the 5th, and took out of the letter-box a letter addressed to Miss Leverson, which I gave to Gillett.
JOHN WILLIAM HENRY GILLETT . I am a sorter to the Western District office—the prisoner was employed there—on the afternoon of the 5th I received a letter, addressed "Miss M. Leverson," from Mr. Wood, the inspector, and, from instructions I received, I put it in a private drawer,
to which no one had access—it was marked "Registered"—next morning, about 10 o'clock, I gave it to the prisoner—it was his duty to enter it in a book, for the purpose of its being returned to the General Post Office, and then to return it to me—he returned it to me in about a quarter of an hour—I immediately took it upstairs to the private room of the Post-master, and handed it to Mr. Gardner, who examined it and made some communication.
Cross-examined. I examined the envelope at the time I gave it to the prisoner; my attention was called to it, and it was perfectly secure—the drawer was locked, and nobody had access to it but myself.
HENRY RUMBOLD . I am a police-constable attached to the Post Office—on 6th July I was present when Mr. Gardner questioned the prisoner respecting two 5l. notes missing from a letter—he took them out of his pocket, and put them into my hand—these are them (produced).
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
There was another indictment against the prisoner for a similar offence.
MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.
ALICE HOGAN . I am the wife of Patrick William Hogan, and live on the second floor, in George Court—on 6th August I went to bed, with my children, a little before 12 o'clock—my husband came in at a little after 12 o'clock, and locked the door—between 1 and 2 o'clock I heard a jug break in the room, which woke me up—I sat up in bed, and saw the prisoner standing on a chair with the clock in his hand—I went over to him and said "Good God! who are you?"—he said "Hush," and held the clock with his right hand and tried to drop the blind with his left, but the tassel came off—he went into a water-closet on the landing, and I went after him in my chemise—he left the clock hanging—he ran down stairs and I after him—he was about to leave the door, and was caught by the constable—I examined my room door; the lock was burst in—I had given half-a-guinea for the clock—the street door folds in two; one half is fastened every night—there is a barber's shop at the bottom; he bolts half, and it is very rare that the other half is fastened—the staircase is used by all the lodgers—there was a gentleman in the house whose wife was out, and we heard her go up stairs ten minutes before he heard me scream—the door was half open when I followed the prisoner down stairs.
JAMES BROWN (Policeman D 122). About 2.30 on this morning I was on duty in George Court, and saw the prisoner rush out of Mrs. Hogan's house—I chased him, and caught him after 200 yards—I told him he was charged with stealing a clock—he made no answer.
Prisoner's Defence. I was introduced to the house by a female, who evidently knew the house; she walked in and I walked in after her; there was no front door to open. I stood in the passage some time with her. I was a little the worse for drink, or I should never have been there. She went up stairs, and I after her, and seeing the second landing bedroom door open, I imagined she was there. I saw no one. I heard a clock ticking. I had no bed to go to, and thought I would stay till morning. I got on the chair to see what the time was, and the clock weight came down, because it caught my hair. I never thought of committing a burglary. The girl
took from me in the passage my purse, with 15s. or 16s. in it, and a scarfpin. When I got into the bedroom, the scream made me think I was in a terribly bad house. My friends are all very respectable.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BROMBY conducted the Prosecution.
DANIEL HARRIGAN . I am assistant to Mr. Dodswell, grocer, 51, Bishopsgate Street—on Saturday night, 13th July, the prisoner brought this order (Read: 28 lbs. preserving lump, 12 raw, 16 first E. J. Norris, White Hart and Fountain, Royal Mint Street")—He said "I came from Mr. Norris; the goods are to be sent to Mr. Norris, but I am to take 14 lbs. of the first quality with me"—he had it, and went away—Mr. Norris is a customer.
EDWARD JAMES NORRIS . I am a licensed victualler in Royal Mint Street, Whitechapel—the prisoner was in my employ, and left about last November, through drunkenness—this order was not written by me, or by my authority—the prisoner sent me a letter begging me to give him a character, and this order appears to be in the same writing—I never got the 14 lbs. of sugar.
Prisoner's Defence. The order was not written by me.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. There was another indictment against the prisoner for a like offence.
JESSE MOSSMAN . On 10th July I had been working for Mr. Kelk, and, in consequence of a letter I had received, I was going home—I called at a beershop kept by a Mr. Woodbridge, at Great Stanmore, and had a pint of ale—I saw the prisoner there—he was asking for beer, and he asked me if I would stand a pint—I gave it him—he then asked if I was going to a station—I said "Yes"—he said "I am going to Barham Wood Station; we will both go together; I have got a horse outside"—we went outside—he asked me to ride—I said at first I would rather walk—he said "You may as well ride," and he gave me a leg up on the horse—when we had got some little way, he hit the horse and made it trot—I said I would rather walk than ride so, but he hit it the more, and went faster and faster—I said I should fall off, and I dropped my bundle and basket and scythe—he then banged back against me, as if to knock me off—I caught my foot on the ground and fell down—I got up again in a minute—he stopped the horse and got off, and asked me to get on again—I said "No, I would rather walk and carry my things"—I put my things together, and as I stooped down to lift them up, he knocked me down with his fists, and I was blinded in a minute with blood—he struck me on the eye, you may see the scar now—he hit me several blows, and he said "How much money have you got?"—I said "Not much"—he said "I will have it"—I said "You won't"—he said "I will," and he tried to dive his hand into my pocket, but I had my belt buckled round me tight, and he could not get it in—he pulled the front of my trousers up, and pulled one button right off—in trying for my
money he felt my watch, and said "You have got a watch; I will have it"—he hit me again several times, and got hold of my chain, but I kept hold of my watch and purse—he broke the chain—he then kicked me four or five times on the arm, and I believe once in the eye, but I was in such a state I could hardly tell where I was kicked—he then asked me whether I would give him my purse and watch—I said "No," and begged him not to kill me—I halloaed "Murder" twice, as loud as I could, and he then jumped on the horse and went away—I afterwards gave a description of him to the police.
ALBERT PAINTER (Policeman S 186). On 10th July, about 6 o'clock in the evening, I was called by the prosecutor—I found him very much injured—he gave me a description of the man that did it—I found the chain in the place where the struggle took place, and also this brass button—there were signs of a very severe struggle, and a great quantity of blood, I should think a quart or three pints—there were no stones about there—it was in a ditch.
GEORGE BRAZIER (Policeman S 210). On the night of 10th July, in consequence of a description that had been given at the station, I went to Harrow Weal Common, and found the prisoner in a gipsy cart—I told him I should take him into custody for violently assaulting a man in Wood Lane and attempting to rob him that evening—he said "You are mistaken, I am not the man; I have not been near the place"—afterwards, on the way to the station, he said he had been in company with a woman who gave him a pint of beer at the Load of Hay beershop, at Stanmore—he afterwards said "I was in Wood Lane with the man, and gave him a ride, and we both fell off the horse, but I am not the man that committed the assault"—I found blood marks on the front of his shirt, and on the toe and seam of his right boot, which I produce.
Prisoner. I had taken my horse to the farrier's at Stanmore to have a set foot taken off, and the blood came from that.
Witness. I have been informed that he did take his horse there, but the veterinary surgeon said that no blood could reach him from that.
Prisoner's Defence. The horse chucked the pair of us off into the road, and that was how he came by the injury. As for kicking him, I never touched him, and never attempted to rob him. Is it likely I should do it within 100 yards of two houses.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, August 20th, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM SMITH (City Detective). About 4 o'clock on 18th July, I was in Cheapside—I saw the prisoner with a man, their conduct was suspicious, and I watched them—when I first saw them one was a little in front of the other—they proceeded a little way up Cheapside, and I missed the prisoner
—the man was waiting by the pavement—she returned with a little paper bag, as if containing confectionery—they walked slowly into St. Paul's Churchyard, until they arrived at the end of Paul's Chain—they remained there talking, and something appeared to pass from the man to the prisoner—I passed them two or three steps, and then the woman left the man—I turned back and she went down Paul's Chain—I followed, and found her running very fast—I pursued her—she turned up Carter Lane, along Knightrider Street, into Bennet's Hill—as I passed No. 19, Leadbeater said "She has thrown something away—I caught her on Bennet's Hill—Leadbeater pointed to the area of No. 19, and said "She has thrown something down there"—I left her in the charge of a constable, and went down into the basement of No. 19, with Leadbeater, and in the area we found this black bag and five counterfeit half-crowns, wrapped separately in tissue paper—I then went back with Leadbeater, and told the prisoner I should charge her with unlawful possession of counterfeit money—she became violent, and made use of beastly expressions—I marked the half-crowns in her presence—I asked her if she was desirous of saying where she lived, and who the man was, and she said "No."
JOSEPH LEADBEATER . I am porter at the Swan with Two Necks, Carter Lane—about 4 o'clock p.m., on 18th July, I saw the prisoner running down Paul's Chain and Bennet's Hill, where I saw her throw something down the area of No. 19, which rattled against the window—I went with Smith and picked up the bag and money—I returned to the station with Smith, and told the prisoner I had seen her throw something down the area—she said that she did not.
EMMA WARREN . I am daughter of the housekeeper of 19, Bennet's Hill—Smith and Leadbeater came down into the kitchen, and I saw them pick something out of the area—there was nothing there when I unclosed the shutters, about an hour before.
Prisoner's Defence: I never saw the half-crowns.
Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. W. SLEIGH the Defence.
After the commencement of the case MR. SLEIGH stated that he could not withstand the evidence.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WOOD the Defence.
JAMES MERRILL . I am a chemist, of Queen's Terrace, York Road, St. Pancras—on Saturday, 29th June, the prisoner came in for a 1s. bottle of citrate of magnesia—my assistant served him—the prisoner tendered a florin, and I saw the assistant give him change—the prisoner left the shop—the assistant handed me the florin, and I found it was bad—on Saturday,
20th July, the prisoner came in again for the same article—I recognised him—he tendered a bad florin—I accused him of having tendered that and one previously—he seemed very much confused, and wanted to refund the money, but I gave him in charge with the florins.
Cross-examined. I don't recollect that I had seen him before—I was within about two yards of my assistant, waiting on another customer—there were probably four or five customers in the shop, but I am in the habit of watching my assistants to see that the things are properly made up.
EDWARD BROWN . I am a turncock—on Sunday, 21st July, I was going along the Camden Road, about 4.40 in the morning, and found this florin alongside the tramway, which I gave to Detective Dalton the following morning—I broke it with my teeth—I pointed the spot out to Dalton and to Y 450.
Cross-examined. I met the police on Monday morning—I had seen them before times out of number; I always meet them on their usual duty, and get into conversation with them—they are not friends of mine; I generally speak to them and pass the time of day with them—one of them addressed me first—I showed him the florin, and told him I had found it, and where I had picked it up.
JOHN DALTON (Detective Y). About 5.30 on 22nd August I received a coin from the last witness—he pointed out a spot to me—the place where the coin was found was on the way to the station from Mr. Merrill's shop.
Cross-examined. I was on duty, and met the turncock in Tuffnell Park—he said, "I have picked up a florin"—I might have said something to him before, but not about the florin—he handed it to me from his pocket.
FREDERIC CLARKE (Policeman Y 450). I produced two counterfeit coins I received from Mr. Merrill, and also a broken one from the last witness—I went to the place where that coin was said to be found—it was between Mr. Merrill's house and the station, within four yards of where I passed with the prisoner.
Cross-examined. The turncock pointed out the exact spot to me—the two coins were produced at the station, and I wrapped them in paper and put them by themselves in a drawer—the prosecutor said first it was a half-crown that was passed, but at the station he said that it was a florin.
Witnesses for the Defence.
CHARLES CHEESEWRIGHT . I live at 14, Newport Court, St. Martin's Lane—I am a sign writer and decorator—on Saturday, 29th June, I was at the prisoner's place, 23, Bedfordbury—he was going to open that place as a greengrocer, and I was employed to do some carpenter's work and whitewashing, which I began on the 27th June—the prisoner went out about 10 o'clock on the Saturday morning, and returned about 3.30—he stopped with me till 10.30, and we then went out together—he was helping me, holding some wood while I was planing it—we went into the Corner Pin and had some beer—I stayed with him there till 10.45, and then he went towards his own home.
Cross-examined. I am in general employ as a decorator—I was working at Mr. York's, oil and colourman, the Saturday before that—I don't know where I was the Saturday after—I don't often work up to 10.30 at night, but he said he wanted to open the shop as soon as possible—I used to sell taters last winter—the prisoner was never out of my sight between 3 o'clock
and 10.30—I mean to say I was with him after 6 o'clock—I had known him before—he paid me 3s. on 29th June—he owes me 9s. now.
ELIZABETH HOLMES . I am a laundress, and live at 2, Neate Street, Dean Street, Soho—on 29th June I called at the prisoner's place to receive some money for washing which I had done—he was working with Cheesewright—he said his wife would be in in a moment—I went from time to time to see his wife—it was past 9 o'clock the last time I went, and he was still at work—I know it was the 29th, because I called on the Sunday morning to see his wife, and then I received some money from her.
The prisoner received a good character— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MATTHEWS the Defence.
FREDERICK RANDALL DICKEY . I am landlord of the Oxford Arms, Westminster Bridge Road—on 10th July, at 11.45 at night, the prisoner Jones came into our house—I saw my barman, George Skinner, serve him—I know Jones by the name of Shoal—he paid for it—he afterwards called for a screw of tobacco—and tendered a coin; the barman brought it over to me—it was a bad shilling—he was given into custody, taken before a Magistrate, remanded, and discharged.
THOMAS PHELAN (Detective Officer L). On 10th July I took Jones for uttering a counterfeit shilling at the last witness's house—I produce the shilling which I got from Barker—he took it from the prisoner and marked it—Jones was discharged on 17th July—he gave the name of Stephen Shoal then—6s. was found upon him, a half-crown and all the rest sixpences, and 2d. in bronze.
SARAH SILK . I am a widow, and keep a pork shop at 246, Westminster Bridge Road—on 9th July the prisoner Allen came into my shop for ¼ lb. of lard—he gave me a half-crown—I handed it to my brother and found it was bad—a constable was called and the prisoner was given into custody with the half-crown—it was never out of my sight.
JAMES CHAMBERLAYNE . I keep the Prince of Wales, Villiers Street, Strand—on Monday evening, 22nd July, the prisoners came in together between 6.30 and 7 o'clock—one of them asked for a pint of 4d. half-and-half—he tendered a florin to the barman—the other one asked for a pennyworth of tobacco, and said "Don't take for the tobacco out of that, I will pay for it"—my barman took up the florin, broke a piece out of it, and gave it to me—I said "Here is another bad one," and asked the man who tendered it where he got it from—he said "From the Rising Sun"—I said "From Scotland Yard, close to me"—he said "Yes"—I said "You must satisfy me you got it from there before I allow you to depart"—he afterwards said he got it in the Westminster Bridge Road—I gave them both in custody—the one who had not passed it said that he could prove where the other got it from.
Cross-examined. I did not gay before the Magistrate "I asked if it was the Rising Sun in Scotland Yard, and he said 'No; in the Blackfriars Road'"—I believe my statement was read over to me before the Magistrate—I
signed it—I did not notice that that was left out; I have told you that he told me he took it from the Rising Sun, I said "Where, in Scotland Yard," and he said "Yes"—and, after I said I should detain him, he said it was the Blackfriars Road—I believe he said he did not know it was bad.
ALFRED STRAWBRIDGE . I am barman to the last witness, and was present when the two prisoners came in on 22nd July—Allen asked for a pint of 4d. ale—he put down a florin, and while I went to get him the change the other called for a screw of tobacco and put down a penny, and said "I will pay for the screw of tobacco"—I found it was a bad florin—I broke it in two pieces and gave it to Mr. Chamberlayne, and they were given in custody.
Cross-examined. Jones put down the penny for the tobacco after Allen had put down the florin and before I found it was bad.
JOHN FURNESS (Policeman E 291). I was called to the public-house, Mr. Chamberlayne's, and took the prisoners for uttering bad money—they said nothing—I found 5d. on Jones—I received this counterfeit coin from Mr. Chamberlayne.
Cross-examined. I believe Allen stated, in answer to the charge, that he did not know it was bad.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; MR. M. WILLIAMS defended Joshua Taylor and MR. CHARLES MATTHEWS defended Samuel Taylor.
ELIZABETH LEWTAS . I assist my uncle, a confectioner, at 409, Oxford Street—on 3rd July, Kenyon came and asked for 2d. worth of chocolate—he tendered a florin—I gave him 1s. 10d. change—I put the florin on the counter—a detective came in—I tried it and it broke—I gave it to the detective.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. After I put the coin on the counter, I put it in the till.
EDWARD GOULD . I am landlord of the Duke's Head, Reeves' Mews, Grosvenor Square—on 3rd July, Kenyon came in about 12.45, and asked for a half-quartern of gin, which was 2 1/2 d.—he tendered a florin—Chamberlain came in and said in the prisoner's presence, "Is that a good 2s. piece?"—I took it out of the till, tried it and it broke—I gave it to Chamberlain.
Kenyon. Q. What did you do with the 2s. piece? A. Put it in the till—I was going to give the change when Chamberlain came in.
WILLIAM CAHAMBERLAIN (Detective Officer). About 12 o'clock on 3rd July I was with Fisher in Oxford Street, in plain clothes—I saw the three prisoners just about Arthur Street—the two Taylors were in a pony barrow; Joshua was driving—Kenyon was walking on the footway, about 10 yards behind the trap—Samuel Taylor pointed towards the Metropolitan Coffee House—Kenyon looked in, but did not go in—the Taylors drove on westward, and Kenyon followed, about 15 or 20 yards behind—when the Taylors got opposite 419 they slowed again, and both looked round—Samuel pointed out the confectioner's shop and Kenyon went in—I saw him throw down a florin and receive some change—as he came out I went in—I was a florin, which I broke, and produce here to-day—Kenyon then
barrow between the other two, and they drove on down Regent Street, through Hanover Square into Bruton Street—they went about 20 yards towards the Coach and Horses—Samuel Kenyon and Taylor came back and looked into the Coach and Horses—they did not go in, but got into the cart again and drove to Grosvenor Square—they stopped—Kenyon got out, and went down South Audley Street and Reeves' Mews into the Duke's Head—we followed him—he asked for a half-quartern of gin cold—I saw him put down a florin, and the landlord took it up—I asked the landlord in the prisoner's presence if it was good—he put it in his teeth, and broke it in three pieces—I produce it—I told Kenyon I was a detective, and we should take him into custody for passing a coin in Oxford Street—I handed him over to C 83—I and Fisher went to Grosvenor Square, where the two Taylors were waiting with the barrow—I went to where Samuel Taylor was sitting, and said "I shall take you for being concerned with another in passing bad money"—as soon as I mentioned that, he put his finger into his waistcoat pocket, and put something into his mouth—I pulled him out of the cart and threw him on his back—I asked a coachman who was there to assist me, and the potman—I could see a florin in his mouth—it was in paper—I should think there were four or five pieces—I had hold of him by the throat—the coachman put his fingers in his mouth, and he bit him—I found that he was turning black in the face, and I could feel the coins in his throat; in fact, I could see them go down—he turned round and said "You have not got them, have you?" and he spit out some tissue paper and some blood with it—I tried to pick it up; he struggled and I could not—he was then taken in custody—he was very violent, and I and Walker got hold of him—he was taken to the police station and searched, and on him I found 15s. in silver, good; 22 sixpences, one florin, 24 penny pieces, and 2l. 10s. in gold—on Kenyon was found a florin, a half-crown, and a half-sovereign.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. I forced his mouth open and saw some coins in it—there were four or five, there might have been five or six—I believe they were florins.
EDWARD FISHER (Detective Officer). I was with Chamberlain in Oxford Street, and saw the two Taylors in the cart, and Kenyon walking behind it—what Chamberlain stated is correct—I took Joshua, and Chamberlain took Samuel—he was pulled out of the cart—after I took hold of Joshua, he said "I have not got any about me"—I said "What?"—he said "Bad money"—I said "I didn't say you had;" I had not charged him then—I told him I should take him for being concerned in passing bad money—he said "You didn't see me pass any"—I took him to the station—he handed me a purse containing 27 sovereigns and 6 half-sovereigns—I found in his right-hand trousers pocket 10 shillings, 26 sixpences, and 1s. 8d. in bronze—I asked him if he knew how much there was there, and he said "I do not; I will count it"—I said I would count it myself—when Kenyon came out of the confectioner's and got into the cart between the Taylors, I saw him pass something to Joshua, which he put into his right-hand trousers pocket, whence I took out the small money.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. When I caught hold of Joshua he said he had no bad money about him.
WALTER PALMER . I am potman at the Duke's Head—I was present when the officer took Kenyon—he asked me to assist him—I went with him into Grosvenor Squre, and saw the two Taylors in a cart—I saw Chamberlain seize Samuel, and I also took hold of him—I saw him take something from his right-hand trousers pocket and put it into his mouth—it was wrapped up in paper—when he got up I saw blood run from his mouth, and he spat up some tissue paper.
JOSEPH WALKER . I was coachman to the Duke of St. Alban's—I was standing opposite Reeves' Mews when I saw Chamberlain on the ground with Samuel Taylor—they said they were two police officers and wanted our assistance—I caught hold of Taylor by the collar, and saw him take something from his pocket and put it into his mouth when he was first caught hold of—I could not say what it was—I put my fingers into his mouth and had some skin knocked off, but not much—he spat out some blood and a kind of paper.
GUILTY . The Jury recommended Joshua Taylor to mercy on account of his good character.
Kenyon was further charged with having been before convicted.
GEORGE AGAR . I am warder of Holloway Prison. I was present at the Middlesex Sessions in March, 1866, when Kenyon was tried and convicted, in the name of James Turner, for sheep-stealing, and was sentenced tofive years' penal servitude.
KENYON.— Two years' Imprisonment.
JOHUA TAYLOR.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
SAMUEL TAYLOR.— Two Years' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, August 21st, 1872.
Before Mr. Justice Hannen.
MR. DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
In this case the offence was alleged to have been committed while the prosecutrix was in an unconscious state from intoxication. MR. JUSTICE HANNEN, in leaving the case to the Jury, stated that if they were of opinion that the prisoners, seeing the woman intoxicated, thought that, from that circumstance, she would be more likely to be a consenting party, and did not use, or intend to use, force, that would not be a rape, but if she was so helplessly drunk at to be incapable of thought or feeling when the offence was committed, the prisoners would be guilty.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, July 21st, 1872.
Before Mr. Justice Quain.
MR. PLATT, for the Prosecution, stated that as the GRAND JURY had ignored the bill, he should not offer any evidence on the Inquisition.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LATIMER conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. CHARLES MATTHEWS, Jun., the Defence.
MICHAEL LEARY . I am a labourer, living at 28, London Terrace, Commercial Road East—on Friday evening, the 21st June last, I was near Spitalfields Church at about 7.30, when I saw the prisoner strike a woman in the face with his first—he struck her four or five times—I went up to him, and, taking him by the collar, said that if he struck her again I should strike him—he said "You would, would you?" and, at the same time, he put his hand into his right trousers pocket and withdrew something—he then made a blow at me with a knife, and as he did so, I turned on one side, and, instead of the knife catching me in the stomach, it caught me in the groin—he then ran away, and I called out "Police! stop him!"—I caught hold of the wound to keep it together and stop the bleeding, and some time afterwards I was placed in a milk-cart and taken to a hospital.
Cross-examined. I had a stick in my hand at the time, of about 1 1/2, in. in thickness—it was a roller, such as is commonly used in drapers' shops for ribbons—I might have struck the prisoner with my fist at I grabbed him by the collar—I said when before the Magistrates that the prisoner struck the woman three or four times—I can't say whether my evidence was correctly given in the depositions—I don't understand their writing—after I saw him strike the woman, in the first instance, I followed him, and when he struck her again, I interfered—I believe he would have struck her more, and he might have used the knife if I had not gone to him—when he struck at me I felt myself hurt.
COURT. Q. He was a stranger to me—I can't say what became of the woman—I became insensible almost immediately after I was stabbed.
HENRY BAREHAM (Policeman H 242). I was on duty in Commercial Street, and saw the prisoner about 8.30, having some words with a woman; his wife, I believe—I afterwards saw him strike her, and almost immediately the prosecutor went to him, and took hold of his collar—the prisoner then went backwards, and drew something from his pocket; then he rushed at the prosecutor, and struck him an upward blow, and the man fell back—the prisoner ran away, and was stopped by another constable—on the way to the police-station, he took a knife from his pocket and tried to drop it behind him, but I took it, however, from his hand, and I now produce it—it was wet with blood—I saw the prisoner strike the woman but once only.
Cross-examined. I did not see Leary strike the prisoner, but I saw him take the man by the collar as if to prevent him striking the woman again—he might have struck a blow when he caught hold of the collar—it might have been a blow and a catch at the same time—Leary had a small roller in his left hand—the prisoner appeared to be drunk, and very much excited.
DR. S. A. GILL. I was house surgeon at the London Hospital when the prosecutor was brought in on 21st June—he was suffering from a wound in his left groin, two inches deep and an inch long—it was a cleanly cut wound, and an artery was bleeding very much—it is a severe wound, and dangerous—a great deal of force must have been used to cause it, as the knife went through the trousers and shirt and two inches into the thigh—he was in danger for several days.
Cross-examined. The wound was where there are a number of arteries and muscles, in the upper part of the thigh.
F. KEENE (Policeman H 163). I was in the Commercial Street on the evening in question, and saw the prosecutor fall back and the prisoner run away—I picked the man up, put him into a cart, and took him to the hospital—at the station the prisoner said that the prosecutor had interfered between himself and his wife.
J. BURROW (Policeman HR 23). I stopped the prisoner as he was running away, and took him to the station—on the way there he took something from his sleeve and passed it behind him—I told a constable to see what it was, and "he found it to be a knife, wet with blood.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was very much excited.
Prisoner's Defence. I had been drinking. 'The prosecutor struck me as he held me by the collar. He hit me across the head with a stick. I hope you will be lenient with me.
GUILTY on the second count. — Three Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. WOOD and LATIMER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BARNARD the Defence.
RICHARD DAVID PENFOLD . I live in Warner Street, and on the afternoon of Saturday, 13th July, was in the Caledonian Road—when about 100 yards from the railway station I saw a waggon and three horses coming along from king's Cross towards Holloway—it was a waggon such as is used by market gardeners to bring their produce to market—it was laden with manure, and the prisoner was sitting on the top, apparently asleep—standing by the pavement was a pony and van, and the deceased was near to it in the act of posting a bill on a hoarding—I called out twice to the prisoner, but he took no notice, and almost instantly the waggon came in contact with the van, and upset it on the pavement—the deceased ran to the pony's head as if to save it, when he was knocked down, and fell close to the near wheel of the waggon—the wheel went over his left arm—he was soon afterwards taken to the hospital—the prisoner seemed to be reclining on the manure, and made no effort to stop his horses—I don't believe he knew at the time that he had ran over a man.
Cross-examined. I was examined at the Police Court, and also before the Coroner—I was not asked how far the waggon proceeded before it was stopped—it went at least twenty yards—there was a distance of about eight yards when I first saw the waggon coming towards the van—it is a wide road—it happened about 2.30 in the afternoon—I was crossing over. to the middle of the road at the time—there was no other vehicle near—I had been reading an excursion bill just before, and did not notice the waggon until it had got within about a dozen yards of the van—I don't know a Mr. Soaper, and no such a person has ever examined me—I have no interest in the matter, and wish I had not seen it—I can't say whether Featherstone's widow has commenced an action against the owner of the waggon—the deceased's van and pony were standing close to the kerb—I can't tell bow the deceased got under the van—he was about a yard and a half from the pony's head when the van was struck, and had the side of his face towards me—there is a slight incline in the road near the station.
Re-examined. Three carts came by soon afterwards—there was a man in the van when it was knocked over—the horses were going at about two miles an hour, and there was ample room for them to have gone by had the prisoner exercised proper control over them—I see plenty of men asleep on waggons on a market morning—there were about four tons of manure in the waggon, and it did make a great noise as it came along.
JAMES SHELDON . I live at 36, Gilbert Street, Clare Market, and am a hammerman—on Saturday, the 13th July, the deceased asked me to take a drive with him, as he had to go to the Caledonian Road and stick some bills for his employer—he had about an hour's work to do in the road and at the station, and his pony and trap were drawn up close to the kerb—the deceased was engaged in sticking the first bill when a waggon came by and knocked the trap and myself over on to the pavement—I fell under the trap with my legs near to the pony's, and it was two or three minutes before I could get up—the first horse had pulled in on the near side, and the waggon was thus brought into contact—the deceased took hold of the pony's head with the intention of saving it, as well as myself, from injury, when he fell beneath the waggon, and one of the wheels went over his arm—I helped to pick him up his arm was all over blood, and had been rolled about—the waggon went on fifteen or twenty yards before it stopped.
Cross-examined. I sang out to the waggoner "Hold hard," and just as I had said that the waggon and the van collided—I did not see the prisoner get down, but he remained in the same position till the waggon was stopped by a constable—Mr. Benn was the deceased's employer, and the pony and van belonged to him.
COURT. Q. Did you see Penfold? A. Yes; he took the pony home—I did not hear him call out twice—it was all done in a moment—I was looking at the deceased sticking the bill when the waggon came up—the deceased when picked up was lying full stretch on his side and bleeding—he had been rolled over in the mud—it was his left arm that was injured—the horses in the waggon were merely coming at a walking pace—when I got up the waggon had been turned round—it was fifteen or twenty yards off when I got up.
MR. VORES. I was the resident medical officer at the Royal Free Hospital when the deceased was brought in—he was suffering from a fracture of the left humerus—the bone was broken obliquely above the elbow, and a part of it was projecting—the elbow-joint was-laid open—the injury was so serious that we advised amputation—there was both a compound and a comminuted fracture—the bone was crushed and penetrating through the skin—the deceased refused for a week to have his arm amputated—it was necessary in order to save his life—he refused after having consulted his friend—we put some lint on it to keep the injury from the air, and he carried his arm in a sling—the arm was amputated a week afterwards—when he refused I sent to Mr. Gant, the surgeon of the week, and he saw the man and advised him to give his assent—afterwards the arm was put upon a splint and the man lay in bed—Mr. Gant said that amputation was absolutely necessary, as the joint was seriously injured—when we told him a week afterwards that his life was in actual danger he assented, and the limb was removed—we told him that it was positively certain he could not recover until he had the arm amputated—we told him as plainly as we could that it was a dangerous thing not to have his arm removed—the deceased died of pyæia, or blood-poisoning—there was a lot of inflamemation
and suppuration set in, and the consequence was that some of the decomposed matter became absorbed into the veins, and so poisoned the blood.
Cross-examined. If the deceased had been guided by Mr. Gant and myself his life would most assuredly have been saved—if he had taken our advice he would have recovered.
Cross-examined. The waggon was about fourteen or fifteen feet from the spot when I arrived—it had been turned round by a policeman—the prisoner was charged before the Magistrate with being asleep in the waggon, but the case was dismissed.
R.D. PENFOLD (re-examined). The van was standing about 100 yards from the Pocock Arms, nearer London—it is not true that there were four or five builders' carts and an omnibus passing at the time.
JOHN MITCHELL . I live at Bonder's End—the prisoner has been in my employ for two years—he left with his waggon, on Friday night, to go to Covent Garden Market with a load of garden produce, and should have got back about 6 o'clock on the Saturday with a load of manure—he went to bed for five or six hours before he started, but would have been at work all night, and for seventeen hours at a stretch—he is a man with a very good character, a steady man with a large family.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy on account of hit good character, and the number of hours he was at work without sleep.
MR. BARNARD applied for a case to be reserved on the point at to whether the deceased had not brought about his death by refusing to have his arm amputated, when he was told that it was absolutely necessary if his life was to be saved. THE COURT, after consideration, refused the application.— Three Months' Imprisonment.
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and STRAIGHT the Defence.
THE COURT intimated, at the outset, that the evidence could only support a charge of manslaughter, and like prisoner
PLEADING GUILTY to that charge, the Jury found a verdict of
GUILTY of manslaughter.
The prisoner received a good character.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and STRAIGHT the Defence.
ELIZA GILES . I am the wife of Edwin Giles, and lodged with the prisoner, at No. 67, Roman Road, Barnsbuty—she lived there six or eight weeks with a man named Chatterton and his child—she was a widow, and had a child of three years, named Eliza—about 7.15 on the evening of 13th August, I heard Chatterton go out, after tea, and he remained away about an hour and a half—he then returned, but did not stay long—the
prisoner soon afterwards fetched some beer, and then shut the door of her own room—I was going to bed, about 9.20, when I heard Chatterton's little girl, of eight, crying out "Oh, mother! don't, mother!" and the prisoner replied "I will"—I thought she was going to correct the children by beating them—I listened, and whilst so doing, the prisoner opened the door, and said "I have done it, I have done it; no one has done it but me; come in and see"—I thought she was alluding to something about the weather, and I observed "Yes, ma'am, it has been a beautiful day; are you better?" when she again said "I have done it; come in and see"—I went into her room, and saw her standing with her left hand over her child's mouth, and her right hand was on the door—the child was on the bed, bed just behind the door—I saw it breathe two or three times, and there was a large carving-knife on the pillow—the prisoner then took up the knife, and said "This is the knife I did it with; didn't you hear me sharpen it on the poker?"—I saw that the child's throat was cut, and I said "Oh, you base, wicked woman; what have you done it for?"—she replied "It is my child, and I have done it"—I ran to Chatterton's child, which was in another bed, and took it away, saying "I will see that you shan't harm this one"—she observed "I shall not touch her, she is his child, but this is mine"—the child's throat was cut from ear to ear—I had not heard any quarrelling between her and Chatterton previously.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS, There were two children in the room, one being the prisoner's, and the other the daughter of the man Chatterton—the prisoner was uniformly very kind to them—she was always singing to them, and paid them every attention and care—she treated them both equally kind—the man's child used to call her mother, just the same as her own child did—she used to be at home a good deal with them, and always conducted herself properly—I never saw anything wrong with her.
JANE SIMPSON . I am the landlady of the house—about 10 o'clock on the night in question I heard persons screaming upstairs, and, going up, found Mrs. Venables holding the door with her right hand, whilst the other was on the head of her child—she said "Mrs. Simpson, I have done it; she is happy now; is she quite dead? I have separated the beds; that is his child and this is mine"—the child's throat was cut, and an alarm was given—'had not observed anything peculiar about her—she had lodged in my house for about seven weeks.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. She was always very kind to both of the children—she appeared to be a very fond and affectionate mother, and always did her domestic duties in a proper manner—the man Chatterton and a fellow-cabman were summoned for furious driving, and that, I think, led to some unhappiness between him (Chatterton) and the prisoner—he was fined heavily—that led to some unfriendliness and unhappiness, as the woman became short of money in consequence—the man had pawned the things off his back, the woman her boots from her feet, and the children's shoes were taken in order to provide them with something for their Sunday's dinner.
JOHN VERE (Policeman Y 8). I was called into the house about 9.80, and on going upstairs to the second floor I found lying on a bed the body of a child, with its throat cut—it was quite dead—the prisoner was standing at the foot of the bed, and said "I have done it; I have killed my child; I will go with you; I will not run away"—she then pointed to the knife, and said "That is what I done it with; is my child dead?—said "Yes," and
she observed "Thank God! she is better off; T have done it, and shall have to suffer for it"—I then sent for a surgeon, and took the prisoner down stairs, when she told me that her husband died about three years ago, that for sixteen months she had lived with a cabman named Alfred Chatterton as his wife; that he had ill-treated her occasionally; that they had quarrelled that evening, and he had slapped her in the face and gone out; that she said to him "I suppose you will not expect to find me here when you return;" when he answered "Go, and it will be a very good job too; take your child with you;" that preyed on her mind, and, knowing that she had no shelter for herself and child, caused her to do it—when she saw the knife she said "That is what I did it with; I sharpened it on the poker"—she was taken to the police-station, when I observed blood upon her hands, and there she repeated what she had previously said at the house—the man Chatterton was called as a witness before the Coroner.
HENRY STRAITH . I am a surgeon, living at Barnsbury—I was called to the prisoner's lodging on the 13th August, and there I found a child with its throat cut—all the parts anterior to the spinal bone were separated—there was a great deal of blood—all the cartilages and everything down to the spinal bone had been separated.
Cross-examined. The head of the child was nearly separated from its body.
ALFRED CHATTERTON (Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS). I am a married man, but my wife has deserted me—I have had a great deal of trouble in my time—my wife left me with two children to brine up—I met with the prisoner, who is a widow, and she has. lived with me lately—she has always been a steady, good woman, and attended to me when I was laid up with the rheumatic fever; she nursed me all through my illness as my wife—one of my children I put out to nurse at Kensington, but it died of scarlet fever, and, as I was afraid the other one would fall ill too, I had it home again; she is about eight years old, and the prisoner took every care of her, as if she was her own child—she had one child of her own, a little girl aged three years, and she was doatingly fond of them both; and a day scarcely passed but she bought them toys or something—I have had enough trouble to send a man mad; I gave way to it, arid it has all been through drink—lately I was fined by the Magistrate for furious driving, and I offered to help another man the next day who was fined 40s. for the same offence—I and my mistress were three days on the loose; we were drinking from the Wednesday until the Saturday night—we had no money then, and she took her boots off for a friend, and the children's boots, too, and pledged them, in order that they might have some victuals on the Sunday; but all the day she and the children had only a bit of bread and butter, and I had to do as well as I could elsewhere—I had myself pledged my whip and cape for food and rent—on the day of the occurrence I came home and found she was out—I left word with the child to tell her mother that she ought to have stayed at home—I had heard that she was out with a cabman's wife whose company was objectionable, and I was very angry about it—I went out to look after her, and proceeded to the cab-rank—about 6.15 I came back and made the children some tea, and stopped at home till 7.15, when I left word that I was very angry indeed at her being out drinking with the woman—when I returned again I found her at home, and we had a fearful row, and I knocked her about a good deal then—I had ill-used her previously, and about four months before, I threatened to sell the furniture
—I told her we had better part, when she said she would turn over a new leaf; I told her what I would do if I caught her in the woman's company again—I was very angry, then, when I heard she had been in her company, and when I went home again about 8.30 or 8.45 we had a great row about it—I have a very violent temper, and I smacked her face—if God be my witness, I would give all the world to undo it; but it is done, and it cannot be helped—she gave me a look, and said "You won't find me here to-night"—I said, calling her a bad name, for I was in a frightful temper, "And a good job too; take your child with you, for she shall not stop here if you go out; if you go away, I will turn the child out"—I said this in order to keep her in—I then left again, and when I came back it was early in the morning—I usually go out about 9 in the morning, and do not reach home again probably till 2 or 3 next morning—I had done very well that night, and went back in a very good temper—I had no idea what had occurred, and the first I saw of it was a policeman standing on the top of the stairs; then I did not comprehend what had happened—somebody said that a child had been murdered, but I did not know whether it was my own or hers—I have since been to see her in the cells at the Police Court, at Clerkenwell, when she kissed my hand, but never spoke to me.
GUILTY—Strongly recommended to mercy by the
JURY— DEATH .
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. PATER the Defence.
GUILTY — Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, August 21st, 1872.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD SHACKLEFORD . I am a carpenter, of Brunswick Court, Bermondsey—about 12.30 or 12.45 on the morning of 25th July I was on Tower Hill—the prisoner and five or six other persons came up, and one of them asked me for a penny to get some tobacco—I refused, and one of them struck me and knocked me down—I got up, and was immediately knocked down again—I was knocked down three times—the third time the prisoner caught hold of me by the handkerchief, and dragged it from my neck—I was in my shirt-sleeves—in the scuffle my waistcoat was pulled off; I can't say who did it—I can swear the prisoner took the handkerchief from me, because I grasped him and looked him full in the face—I let go of him, and ran away home—I gave information to the policeman, but not that night—I had been to the Sun public-house on Tower Hill, and this occurred about forty yards from the Sun—I was perfectly sober—on the morning of 27th July I was in Billingsgate, and saw the prisoner there wearing my waistcoat—I said "That is my waistcoat"—he said "If it is, you had better take it"—he threw it on the ground, and I picked it up—he said he picked it up in the scuffle—when the men came up I was talking to a man; he was not a friend of mine—I could find him at Billingsgate—I have been to the market several times, but have not seen him—I had left my coat in the stable where I work—I lost 1s. 6d., my hat, and silk handkerchief, besides the waistcoat
—the prisoner did not say to me "What has become of my waistcoat," or that he had lost his—I believe he said it to the policeman—I have seen the prisoner in Billingsgate before—he offered me 5s. to square it, but I said I would do nothing of the kind.
JOSEPH BODMAN (City Policeman 703). On the morning of 27th July I was on duty in Little Tower Street—about 3.30 in the afternoon Shackle-ford came up and said "I give this man in custody for stealing my waistcoat, neckhandkerchief, hat, and 1s. 6d., on Tower Hill last Tuesday morning," and that they had knocked him about very much—the prisoner said that he was there, and it was a drunken row—he offered him all the money he had, and said that he had lost his own waistcoat and had picked this one up.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEADE defended Skett.
WILLIAM JOHNSON . I am a commercial traveller to Homan & Son, boot manufacturers—on 20th July I deposited two packages at the Shoreditch Station, Great Eastern Railway—one was a large leather case, locked, the other was a brown leather case with two straps, but no lock and key, about 2 ft. high, containing 150 or 160 boots—I applied for them on Monday morning, and found the one with two straps was gone—I have not seen it since.
HENRY MYTTEN . I am cloak-room attendant at the Bishopsgate Station—on 20th July, at 8.30 a.m., I took in two leather cases from Mr. Johnson, and gave him a ticket in the ordinary way—on the 22nd, when they were applied for, I found one and not the other—I gave one to Mr. Johnson, and wrote "One leather case delivered" on the ticket—the cloak-room is on the arrival platform, and is about one dozen yards from the barrier where the luggage is unloaded—the lost property office is next the cloak-room—the cloak-room is just round the angle of the building, where the cabs come up—the last train before 10 o'clock was due a 9.10—the cloak-room was full that morning, and the big case was standing outside the door—it was under our inspection—no one had a right to remove it without coming to the cloak-room first—a person would pass the cloak-room going to the refreshment-room.
SAMUEL HART . I am a cloak-room attendant at Shoreditch Station—it is my duty to place the parcels inside every night—I placed them inside at 10 o'clock which were standing between the cloak-room and the lost property office—the 9.10 train had come in before that, and all the luggage had been cleared away—there was no luggage on the platform near where they stood.
ALFRED JONES . I am a cab-driver—on the night of 20th July, a little before 10 o'clock, I was on the cab-stand at Shoreditch Station—I saw the two prisoners coming from the direction of the cloak-room with a portmanteau—they walked down the steps to my cab—it was a commercial traveller's leather case, fastened with two straps across—they were about ten yards from the cloak-room when I first saw them—they told me to drive to Moses & Son, Aldgate—they put the case inside the cab, and got in—when I got to Bishopsgate they told me to drive up Union Street and Brushfield Street—Munro got out and ran before the cab, and told me to drive to the Princess Alice, on the left hand side of Commercial Street—Skett asked.
me down to have a glass of ale, and we were there a few minutes, and Munro came back from Wentworth Street—he paid me my fare, and took the portmanteau down Wentworth Street—I saw no more of it or them—I am sure the prisoners are the two men.
Munro. Q. Where did you see me? A. Coming from the first archway, about ten yards from the cab—I did not see you take the portmanteau up—I was going six or seven miles an hour when you got out of the cab.
Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. The station is pretty well lighted—after Skett got into the cab I did not see him again till he got out at the public-house—I took particular notice of both of them when they got in—I thought it was very strange for Munro to get out of the cab whilst it was going along—I don't remember being mistaken as to identity before.
Re-examined. I went to the police-station and pointed them out.
JOSEPH RUSSELL (Police Inspector G. E. R.) On 29th July I saw Munro in Middlesex Street, Petticoat Lane—I told him I wanted him for being concerned with another man in stealing a traveller's portmanteau from the Great Eastern Railway last Saturday week—he said "You have made a mistake, I have only just come up from the country"—I said "You answer the description of the man I want; you have to go to the station with me"—on the way to the station he said "I am only just come up from Chelmsford, what day of the month was last Saturday week?"—I told him I did not know—at the station he was placed with several others—I brought the cabman into the room, he went up and put his hand on Munro, and said "That is one of the two men—he was then charged, and the charge was read over to him—he said "I shall be able to prove that I was at Chelmsford, in bed in a house, from spitting blood, on the 19th, 20th, 21st, and 22nd"—I said "At what house?"—he said "The Two Brewers"—when he was before the Magistrate, on the day of his committal, he said "I shall be able to produce an officer to prove that I was in Springfield Gaol on the day that the portmanteau was stolen"—there is a house in Chelmsford called the Two Brewers, and only one; that is kept by Mr. Fewell—on the 9th August I went to the City of Norwich public-house, Wentworth Street, with Musgrove—it is about 100 yards from the Princess Alice—Skett was in custody. then, and from what he told me I went to see some boxes—I found boxes which had been wrenched open at the lock, the locks broken, and the woodwork cut—I found this portmanteau, which is cut open at the end and round the lock—I directed three boxes and a portmanteau to be taken to the station there is a label on the portmanteau now, "Rotterdam to London by G. E. R."—there were several Continental labels on it, which I took off—one was a registered label, and the other a G. E. R. label, from Rotterdam to London.
WILLIAM MUSGROVE (Policeman H 25). On 9th August I went to the City of Norwich public-house, Wentworth Street—I had been watching the house before I saw Skett go in—I went in and found him upstairs in bed—I had a great deal of trouble to get in—I told him the charge—he said lie knew nothing about it after I told him three times—I searched the room and found the portmanteau produced, and the three boxes—they were all broken open and the portmanteau bore the label of the great Eastern Railway—Skett said he knew nothing at all about them—they were in the room where he was in bed.
one has been ill in my house for the last twelve months—he was not in my house in July—I don't know any other Two Brewers in Chelmsford—my house is a quarter of a mile from the railway Station.
HENRY MCGORRERY . I am governor of Springfield Gaol—Munro was in the gaol and discharged on 19th July at 10 o'clock in the morning—I sent a messenger to the Station that if he wished to go away he was to have a ticket—he did have a ticket, and it was reported to me that he was in the train.
Munro. Q. During the time I was in the prison was I suffering from any bodily illness? A. You were under treatment the greater part of the time—the surgeon said it was spitting of blood—I had your fare paid for going to London—you said you wished to walk home, the shaking of the carriage would make you spit blood.
Munro's Defence. I must admit I must be under a mistake about the Two Brewers, but it was a house not far from the station. I went in the train, but I had to get out and go back to Chelmsford; a friend who could prove that I was in Chelmsford when the robbery was committed left London on Wednesday.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EMMA GERRINGER . I am the wife of Adam Gerringer, who keeps the City of Norwich public-house, Wentworth Street—we have been there nineteen years—Skett has been a lodger there—he came first on 13th July, and he was with me four months all but two days—there were some boxes in the room when the police came—I have seen those boxes here and a portmanteau—they have been in my house these four years—they were in the prisoner's room at the time he lodged there—I saw the prisoner on 20th July—about 7 o'clock he came in and paid me his lodgings, and he went into the bagatelle-room and remained there during the night, to the best of my knowledge—had he gone out I must have seen him, as I did not go out of the bar during the night, being one hand short.
Cross-examined. Persons going to the bagatelle-room would have to pass the bar—my potman was serving in that room—he is still with me, but he is not here, as I could not spare him—the prisoner came out of the room once or twice, but I say he did not go out of the house—he did came out to the bar twice to a little window which is for serving—I served him, and he took the beer into the bagatelle-room, which is the parlour on the same floor as the bar—I have a servant, Catherine Ryan; she is outside—my husband is here—no one else was in the house—there were about half-a-dozen people in the parlour; some of them are here—the boxes were in the prisoner's bedroom for four years—my house is a house of call for journeymen bakers and butchers—the young men bring their boxes when they leave their situations, and they remained in my house—the young man who the portmanteau belonged to is named Hermann Faber—he returned from Germany on 24th November last—I can't say exactly, but he took the portmanteau to Germany with him when he went to the war, and when he was discharged he returned to my place again, bringing that portmanteau with him—he had lodged with me a long time—he went away in 1870, and took the portmanteau away then—I saw him there last Sunday—he is here to own his portmanteau—he brought his things in, the box when he came—the box remained in my house, and his things too—they ought to have been there when the police found it—the lock was broken—he said he had lost the key—it might have been cut all round by wear; it was a very old box—one of the other boxes belongs to a young man who
went to the German Hospital—I don't remember his name—he died on the 4th and was buried on the 9th—there were a few things in that box, but the policeman turned them out on the floor—there is also a little beech box that has been in the room many years, which we put the rubbish of the room in—it was my property—I did not tell the Magistrate I knew the owner, but it was a critical thing—that was the green box—I said it was a critical name; I ought to have said "a difficult name"—it was a German name which I could not pronounce—the other box belonged to a young man who lodged at my place—I don't know his name—I believe he has gone to America—I can't say how they came to have their locks broken and their sides damaged, except that they were thrown about by the servant in the lumber room, and sometimes the young men broke the locks themselves if they lost the keys—Mrs. Jay recommended the prisoner to me—she is here—I don't know Munro at all—I don't know that I ever saw him in my house or any where else—I did not tell the inspector that I did not know to whom the box belonged, nor how long it had been there—I was in bed when the constable came—I got up and came to the top of the stairs—I heard a noise, and I sent my daughter to see what was the matter—she said "There is a policeman come to take Harry Skett for something."
Re-examined. Mrs. Jay is a respectable woman—I have a good deal of custom, persons coming in and out.
THOMAS JAY . I am an umbrella maker at 89, Wentworth Street, right opposite the City of Norwich—I have Been Skett there two or three times—I saw him last on 20th July—it was about 8 o'clock when I went in—he was in the bagatelle-room—I parted with him at 10.55, and left him there.
Cross-examined. I have not given my evidence before to anybody—my mother recommended Skett to the City of Norwich—I did not know him before I went there—I had seen him two or three nights before the 20th, and played several games of bagatelle with him—I played with him on the Thursday and on the Saturday when I went in—I did not see him there after the 20th—I did not see him anywhere, that I am aware of, between the 20th and the time he was taken—I don't suppose there was a day in the week that I did not go to the public-house, but I never saw him after the 20th—I don't know Munro; I have not seen him before to my knowledge—I know the Princess Alice; I have been there once or twice—I have not seen Skett there, nor Munro, to my knowledge.
HERMANN FABER . I am a baker, of South Kensington—I have lodged at the City of Norwich—I recognise this portmanteau as mine—I left it at the City of Norwich about thirteen weeks ago, when I went to Kensington.
Cross-examined. I am a journeyman baker, employed by Mr. Schutzburgher, 2, Sussex Place, South Kensington—I went there straight from the City of Norwich—I left my address, and they knew where I had gone to—I had got what clothes I wanted at Kensington, and I left the portmanteau there—I go there generally on Sundays—I took the portmanteau there on 23rd or 24th November, and left it behind when I left thirteen weeks ago—it was broken before I went away to Germany, and I had the lock put on again—I took it to Germany, and brought it back again—I have seen a good many boxes at the house sometimes—I can't say that I recognise those three—I have seen five or six there sometimes—they were not all broken—sometimes a lock was broken when the key was lost—the portmanteau was torn in the ship when I came over from
Rotterdam—I did not cut it—I know the young man who went to the hospital—I hear that he is dead.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment each.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MATTHEWS the Defence.
ARTHUR ERNEST BILLINGS . I am in the Service of Mr. James Steele, of 3 and 4, Jewin Street, City, ostrich feather maker—I am 18 years old, and have been employed 4 1/2 years there—on 22nd July I was returning from the Bank, and saw Adams, who is not here, in the street—I had a conversation with him, and on my return I repeated that conversation to my master—I saw Adams again on Tuesday, 23rd July, opposite the warehouse, but I did not speak to him then—on Wednesday, 24th, I saw Adams again coming out of the public-house at the corner of Jewin Street, about 2 o'clock—the prisoner was with Adams then—he had a basket under his arm—Spurling spoke to me first, and Adams was Standing by—Spurling said "I have a basket; I don't intend going home with it empty," and then we came to a public-house and went in—I had a glass of ale, which I believe Adams paid for—Spurling said "We had better not talk of this sort of thing here, we don't know who is about, but meet us both at Broad Street Station at 7 o'clock"—I said "I will meet you there"—I got to the Broad Street Station about 6.10—I saw Adams first, at one entrance to the Station, and Spurling was at the other—Adams beckoned to me and he whistled to Spurling, and then Adams and myself went into a public-house, and Spurling came in after—I had a glass of ale there—Spurling asked me if I had any "Cape primed tips;" that is a technical name in the trade—Spurling said "I can do very well with Cape primed tips, you know; 50l. per pound"—I said "I know what you mean"—Adams said "What would be the best time for us to come round to-morrow, to catch the governor out?"—I said "He will leave the office at 4 o'clock in a Hansom's cab"—Adams said "I will watch him away, Spurling, while you get the feathers"—Spurling told me to get a parcel all ready—I was to walk to the door with it up my back; under my coat, I suppose he meant—he said "I have one thing in particular to tell you, take your own string and your own paper, because the governor can't swear to his feathers, but he can to his string and paper"—I then asked Spurling whether he had anywhere to sell them—he said "Yes; they are sold in less than five minutes, and in a tub of wash"—he also said "Whatever we get for the feathers, you shall have a fair half"—Adams asked me if I was broke; he meant if I had any money—I said "I have money with me"—he said "Have four or five Shillings now"—I said "No, I do not want it"—I then left, and communicated with my master on Thursday morning—Mr. Steele made up a bundle, and I waxed the string, so that I should know it again—Spurling had said "I will walk up the street as soon as the governor is gone, and you be at the door, I will ask you about the peacocks, and then you hand me the parcel; I will swing it about in a careless manner, so as to avoid suspicion"—on Thursday,
25th, Mr. Steele went away in a Hansom's cab at 4 o'clock in the afternoon—before he left I saw Adams, about 3.50, on the opposite side of the way—I had the parcel under my coat, and went to the door—Spurling came up Jewin Street, and said to me "I have called about the peacocks"—I said "Mr. Steele has just gone"—he said "Have you got it?"—I said "Yes"—I handed him the parcel—I saw the same parcel after the prisoner was in custody.
Cross-examined. Adams was the man that I first saw—I saw him six times and I saw Spurling three times concerning this case—I saw Adams on the 22nd, but I did not see Spurling till the 24th—Adams paid for the ale on the 24th, when he said "Won't you have four or five Shillings now?"—he knew that I was in the employment of Mr. Steele—my master has bought feathers of the prisoner, pheasant skins, not "Cape primed tips"—that was about two years ago—he is an itinerant poulterer.
CHARLES BROWN (City Detective Officer). I had instructions from Mr. Steele to watch these proceedings—I was with Codrey on the 25th July, near Mr. Steele's warehouse—I saw the prisoner opposite Mr. Steele's premises—I saw Mr. Steele go away in a cab—two or three minutes after I saw the prisoner, about six yards from the premises, walking away with a bundle of white paper tied with string—I and Codrey followed him into Aldersgate Street, where he went into a public-house—he came out without the parcel—we spoke to him, and took him back to the public-house—the landlady handed over the parcel—I asked the prisoner what it contained; he said "Ostrich feathers"—I said "Whose are they?"—he said "They are mine"—I said "Where did you get them from?"—he said "I brought them from home this morning"—I said "What time?"—he said "About 9 o'clock; I have the invoice of them at home"—I told him he would be charged with inciting a young man in the employ of Mr. Steele, his master, in Jewin Street, to rob him of ostrich feathers—he said—"That is false; I did not incite him"—I also said he would be further charged with receiving those feathers knowing them to be stolen—he said "I did not know they were stolen"—he said he had bought them nine months ago.
—CODREY. I saw the prisoner come up to the door and Billings give him the parcel, which he took from behind him somewhere—I had seen Mr. Steele go away before in a Hansom's cab—on the way to the Court on the following morning he told me that he had been drawn into it by Adams—I said "Do you know Adams?"—he said "Yes; him and me used to be in business together"—I said "Did not you use to go hawking together in the country?"—he said "Yes."
Cross-examined. This conversation was on the way to the Police Court—I gave evidence there of the receiving the parcel—that is all.
EDWARD JAMES STEELE . I am an ostrich feather merchant, at 3 and 4, Jewin Street—Billings made a communication to me with reference to Adams in the first instance, and afterwards with regard to Spurling—he communicated to me after he had met them at Broad Street—he is in my service now—a parcel was prepared; my seal is inside, and it has been in the possession of the police ever since—I employed the officers—the value of Cape primed tips is from 50l. to 60l. per lb.; the feathers in this parcel are of inferior quality—putting the feathers in a tub of wash might interfere with their identity—I never knew the prisoner to be a dealer in ostrich feathers—I have known him many years as a poultry dealer.
Cross-examined. About two or three years ago I bought some skins of him.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. LATIMER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MATTHEWS the Defence.
GEORGE MOORE (Policeman A 207). On 3rd August I was on duty near Ropemaker's Fields, Limehouse, about 12.45 a.m.; I met the prisoner—he passed me—I went a few steps further on, and saw the cellar-flap of 66, Three Colt Street had been broken open—that was about 20 yds. from where I saw the prisoner—he was coming away from there—there was a hole in the flap large enough for a man to go down—the occupier was called up, and the prisoner came back while I was still there—I turned my light on him, and saw he was all over sawdust and cobwebs—he said "What are you looking at? do you think I have robbed anyone?"—I asked him where he had been, and he said he had been to Mr. Waller's—I asked him where he had been since, and he said "In Limehouse"—that was all I could get from him—I charged him on suspicion with breaking and entering the cellar—he said "All right"—he was taken to the Station by a constable, and I returned to where I met the prisoner, and found a bottle of wine close to the kerb opposite the shop—that was two hours afterwards—a pocket-book and some matches were found on the prisoner—I went into the cellar with the occupier—there were footmarks about the place, sawdust on the floor, and cobwebs.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was 20 yds. from the cellar when I first saw him—I found that he was a lighterman by his license, after he was in custody.
WILLIAM JOHN OSMAR . I am manager to Mr. Jannaway, wine and spirit merchant, 66, Three Colt Street, Limehouse—on the night of 2nd August I saw the cellar fastened securely about 11 o'clock—I was called up a few minutes before 1 o'clock, and found two boards had been wrenched up, and there was a hole sufficient to admit a man into the cellar—It was rather an old flap, and the boards were somewhat rotten—I was shown this bottle; it has "201" on the cork—it belongs to the prosecutor, and was safe in the cellar—the cellar was very low, and there were cobwebs on the ceiling.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was walking home. I left my mate Skinner, and, coming by this shop, the constable looked at me, and I said 'Do you think I stole anything.' I had put my jacket on half an hour before; it had been lying on the barge, which was loaded with sleepers which were covered with sawdust."
The Prisoner received a good character.
PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. WITHERS conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK DOWNS (City Detective Officer). On 1st August I was on London Bridge about 12 o'clock, with two other officers—I saw the two prisoners come on to the bridge, where there was a great crowd in consequence of the race for the coat and badge that day—they walked over the bridge, eyeing several gentlemen and feeling their coat-tail pockets—they went to the Surrey side
of the bridge, and came back again—Williams placed himself by the side of a young gentleman who was looking over the parapet, and Warren was a short distance off, behind another gentleman—Williams put his left hand under his right arm by the side of the gentleman—he then left the gentleman, touched Warren on the shoulder, and they both crossed the road—I went up to the gentleman that Williams had just left, and saw his watch chain hanging down—I spoke to him, and we pursued the prisoners—Williams saw me coming, and ran to the Surrey side of the bridge—I caught hold of Warren, and called after Williams—he was stopped by Gilbert and Randall—I told Warren I should charge him with being concerned in stealing a watch—he said "I have no watch"—I said "I know you have not; your companion has got that"—I took him to the station—I believe he gave an address to one of the other officers.
Warren. I came up from the market on purpose to see the boat-race.
HENRY RANDALL (City Detective Officer). I was on London Bridge on 1st August, about 12 o'clock—I saw the prisoners come on to the bridge—what Downs has stated is correct—I stopped Williams—I caught hold of his trousers' pocket, and felt the watch there—with Gilbert's assistance I conveyed him to the Seething Lane Station, and found the watch in his pocket—it was identified by the prosecutor.
PHILIP MARTIN . I am a clerk, at 89, Great Tower Street—I was on London Bridge on 1st August, looking at the race—the police spoke to me and I missed my watch—I saw it again at the station—the bow was broken—it was worth 2l.—I did not notice the prisoners.
Warren, in his defence, stated that he left Billingsgate Market to go and see the boat-race—that he went on the bridge, saw them start, and was going back again when the policeman took him.
WARREN— GUILTY .**
PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in April, 1871.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
WILLIAMS also PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted in October, 1868.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, August 21st, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. A. B. KELLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY defended Winter.
JAMES TEBBEY . I am a gentleman's servant, living in Clarges Street—on Tuesday morning, 30th July, I was in the Brompton Road at ten minutes to one o'clock—Hazle, who was with two men, left them and accosted me, and wished me to treat her—I refused, and she asked me to go home with her, which I refused also—we walked a few yards, and she struck me on my face with her umbrella, and began halloaing—I ran backwards, and several young men came round me and knocked me down—I got up and tried to get away—Winter ran across the road after me, and I was knocked down a second time and stunned—I can swear that Winter was one of those who ran after me, but I cannot swear that he struck me—I was picked up by a policeman, and then missed my watch and chain, and locket—the policeman took me to the hospital—I was taken to the station next morning, and saw
the prisoners and several young women, but no men except Winter—I picked Hazle out as the woman who struck me first—I identified Winter as being there.
Cross-examined. There were three women—Clara Phillips was not one of them.
Hazle. Q. Can you swear it was me and not Jessie Hall?—Yes; you had a hat on, but I cannot swear to your dress—you are the person who struck me.
COURT. Q. Had you been drinking? A. I had had a glass or two of drink, but I was sensible—I was not tipsy—I left home at five o'clock, and went to see a friend—I had several glasses of drink—it was ale, chiefly—I do not think I had any spirits—my watch was in my waistcoat pocket, and the chain was fastened to my button hole, and the locket hanging from the chain—I cannot say whether my coat was buttoned—I had shown my watch to the witness Wallace five minutes before this occurred—I had never seen her before—she wanted to know the time, and I told her, five minutes past one—she saw the watch and the locket—she was not one of the girls in the Brompton Road whom I spoke to.
JAMES WEBSTER . I am a photographer, of Lloyd's Place, Brompton—on the night of 30th July I was in the Brompton Road between 1.5 and 1.10 o'clock, and just as I was going to turn down Lloyd's Place I saw Tebbey standing by the female prisoner—two other girls were by—I saw Hazle strike Tebbey with a parasol or umbrella—she knocked him down—he got up and she knocked him down in the road again—I went to her and asked her what she was knocking the man about for, and she struck me and called out "Harry!" I think, and twelve or fourteen men, who were nearly 100 yards further up the road, came down to the scene, and I told Tebbey to run if he could—I ran and called "Police!" and Tebbey ran—as he ran I saw him knocked against the steps and knocked on the pavement by a man, but I was nearly twenty yards away, and could not see who did it—I saw a policeman come up, he removed Tebbey in a cab—I pointed out to the police a girl named Green, who was standing by, but not who had anything to do with it—she is not here—I am positive Hazle is the woman who used the parasol—I am not positive about Winter.
Hazle. Q. Can you swear I knocked the man down? A. Yes; it was not the female who stood with you—I cannot describe your dress, I only go by your face—you do not look able to knock a man down, but I have seen you before do something very nearly the same—I have no animosity against you, I never knew you to speak to you—I am quite sure it was you—I did not notice that Tebbey had a stick in his hand.
COURT. Q. Did you hear any altercation? A. No; I heard no words used, but all of a sudden she struck him with a parasol and knocked him down in the road—the first time she fought him off the kerb with her hands up, and the second time she fought him off the kerb into the middle of the road.
Cross-examined. I have no recollection of seeing Clara Phillips there—I have seen her outside here—I only knew her by sight—if she had come into sight I should have recognised her—Tebbey did not fight Hazle, but he went into the road; it did not look like fun; he came back in a sort of expostulating way, as much as to say "What are you doing that for?" there was no quarrel before, so far as I could see—I have often seen the men together who came up: they live near about, I believe—I have seen them with Hazle before.
CLARA PHILLIPS . My husband is a milkman, of Exeter Place, Chelsea—on this night I was in Brompton, on my way home—I heard a noise and saw Hazle strike Tebbey with her umbrella, and then I saw her knock him down; she called some name which I cannot recollect, and Winter rushed out and struck Tebbey, and thirteen or fourteen of them were together—I knew Winter quite well by sight, I used to live opposite him, and know his appearance quite well—I saw him hit the prosecutor—I was speaking to Edith Wallace, and we gave our names—I have never had any quarrel with Winter—I am living with my husband.
Cross-examined. My husband's name is William Spencer and mine is Clara Phillips—I had been to a sing-song with Charley Cooper—I did not see Green there; she and I did not have a fight, it was Hazle and me—she smacked me three times in the face at the Northumberland Arms—I left the Northumberland Arras with Charley Cooper, and went with him as far as Montpellier Road—I swear I did not have connection with him—I know he will be called—Tebbey was on the ground when I first saw Winter—my account is that I actually heard some female speak to Tebbey; she asked him to go home with her, and because he would not, she struck him with her umbrella.
Hazle. Q. Was the prosecutor on the ground when you came up? A. No; but he was when you called the other men—I was on the same side as you—Jessie was one of the other two females; it was not Emma Green, she did not come up until after it was all over—you had a hat on—I did not see you take the watch.
EDITH WALLACE . I live at Ascot Street, Brompton—on the night of the 30th, about 1.5, I was with a friend in the Brompton Road, and met the prosecutor, who said "Good evening, Miss; do you know if there are any public houses open?"—I said "It is too late"—he took out his watch and looked at it—it was a silver watch, with a gold chain and two lockets—he put it back and had not got twelve yards before I saw some woman take hold of him and hit him across the head with an umbrella—I do not know who she was—she knocked him down in the street, and lots of men rushed out—Winter is one of them; he passed me at a lamp-post—when he came up Tebbey was on the ground—I saw him lifted up—he went away with a policeman.
Cross-examined. I did not see Winter do anything to him.
Hazle. Q. Was he drunk? A. He knew what he was doing—I cannot swear to you—I did not see Mrs. Phillips there till some time after it was over.
COURT. Q. Did you see her come up? A. No—I had not been to the sing-song—they were talking together before she struck him with the umbrella, but I heard nothing—it was very nearly over when I first saw Clara Phillips; I was with my lady friend.
THOMAS PECK (Policeman B 150). I went up just as the prosecutor was in the constable's arms—he was bleeding very much—the prisoners were not there—I saw Wallace and Phillips and took their names and addresses.
ROBERT RIDDELL (Policeman 386). I found the prosecutor on the ground, bleeding very much from a cut over his eye—I saw Webster there, and a young man named Hardy—Mrs. Howard was not there when I got there, but she came there five minutes afterwards—I am positive of that.
Cross-examined. I did not notice where Mrs. Howard came from—she spoke to me and asked me to take two men in custody.
JURY. Q. What attracted you to the spot? A. I saw some men running, and was told I was wanted—I was about 150 yards from the place where I picked the man up.
EDWARD CLOUGH (Detective Officer). On 30th July I received information at the station, and about 8 o'clock, from inquiries I made, I saw the prosecutor; and about 9 o'clock I met Winter and another young man in the Brompton Road—I told him I should take him for assaulting a young man in the Brompton Road and stealing his watch and chain"—he said "I know nothing about it; I was not there"—I left him at the station and met Hazel coming towards the station—I told her I should take her for being with him, she having assaulted Tebbey with her umbrella—Tebbey could not identify either of the prisoners at the station, but at the Police Court he did.
Cross-examined. I give the prisoner's words to the best of my memory—Winter said "I know nothing about it; I was not there."
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and DAVIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
THE JURY being unable to agree upon a verdict, the case was postponed to the September Session.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, August 22nd, 1872.
Before Mr. Justice Hannen.
For Cases tried this day see Essex Kent, and Surrey Cases.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, August 22, 1872.
For Cases tried this day see Surrey Cases.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, August 22nd, 1872.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
592. ISABELLA WATSON (27) , PLEADED GUILTY to two indictments for obtaining by false pretences two sums of 10l. each from Her Majesty's Paymaster-General, with intent to defraud.— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD the Defence.
HENRY LINWOOD STRONGE . I am one of the registers of the principal Registry of Her Majesty's Court of Divorce—I produce the original petition for dissolution of marriage of Harry Lewis Ayling, dated 15th December, 1869—it states that he was married on the 23rd January 1865, to Emma Merritt, that there were two children by the marriage, and alleges that his wife had committed adultery with one John Collier, between 1st May and
30th January, and prays for a dissolution of marriage on that ground—the petition was presented by himself in person—I also produce an affidavit by the same person, Henry Lewis Ayling, verifying the petition—a copy of the citation is served on the respondent and co-respondent by showing them the citation and leaving them a copy—the two citations would be given out with the seal of the Court attached, and copies would then be made—this is a blank form; it is first signed by the registrar, and then sealed—the parties themselves can make copies, and serve them on the respondent and co-respondent—on 22nd December Mrs. Ayling appeared in person—this document purports to bear my signature as registrar—it is a forgery—it is dated 17th January, 1870—there is a seal attached to that; it appears to be a genuine seal of the Court—as far as I can judge it is similar to the seal that would be attached to the citation when issued—the document bears two sets of initials—I can swear to my own signature, but I am not prepared to say whether the other is genuine or not—the first two initials of my signature are very good, the remainder is not so good—a decree in the Divorce Court is not usually sealed; it can be sealed, but it is not usual—by the minutes nothing appears to have been done in the Divorce Court after the appearance of the respondent—this decree is not on a form of the Court—the Court makes the rule nisi and then absolute, which dissolves the marriage in the first instance—I believe this to be a Scotch form; it is not our form.
Cross-examined. The first step is to take out a citation of petition—I really can hardly tell you how the party gets that form of citation—the first I see of it is when it comes up in the usual form with the initials of the senior clerk, and then I or one of the registrars issue the usual form, which is afterwards sealed—I know of one or two cases in which unqualified persons have tried to act as attornies in the Divorce Court, but I don't know whether they have succeeded.
GEORGE ELY . I am a clerk in the Divorce Registry Office—the citations are brought to me—they are always issued filled up—before they are given out they are filled up with the names of the respondent and the corespondent, the seal is attached, and the signature of the registrar—the initials of "G. E." to this decree of 17th January are my initials, but they are not written by me—my initials are attached to everything which comes out of the Divorce Court, and my initials would be attached to the citation—I know nothing of this document.
Cross-examined. When I grant a citation, the party comes with what is Called a precipe and also a form like this of citation—you can get that form at the stationer's—I attach the seal—I could not attach the seal to a fictitious divorce suit, because I should have the petition and the affidavit and the precipe before me—they bring the petition and the affidavit in order that I may issue the citation—those are all the documents I want to authenticate the citation and to get my initials—when I see the affidavit, I feel justified in granting the citation—they ought to be returned to the Court—we keep all documents filed when a suit is completed—when the party leaves our office with the citation he serves it on the respondent and co-respondent, and he ought to return it to the Registry Office after service—parties sometimes neglect to return them, but when the cause goes before the Court for directions for trial, they are bound to bring in the citation, otherwise the Judge could not set the cause down—if the suit was abandoned, you would not see anything more of the citation—I don't know that
unqualified persons assume the character of attornies, and practice in the Divorce Court.
Re-examined. The citations have never been returned in this case.
MARY ANN DOERY . I am the wife of Charles Doery, and live at 12, Burnett Street, Vauxhal—he is a cab proprietor—my daughter Mary Jane Doery, was married to the prisoner on 14th February, 1870—she is twenty-four now; she was twenty-two when she was married—I have known the prisoner about six years—he was clerk to Messrs. Blake & Sons, solicitors, in Blackfriars Road—he first commenced to pay attention to my daughter about six years ago—his wife called upon me about six months after he made my daughter's acquaintance; it was about 1867—I saw the woman who represented herself as the prisoner's wife—I saw the prisoner the same evening and told him I had seen his wife, and begged him to have nothing more to say to my daughter—he said "Very well, I don't intend to," or something of that sort, and he bid me good night—he said "If I am married, where was I married?"—I said "At Greenwich;" and he said "It is too true"—I lost sight of him for some time; some months—I afterwards saw him in Kennington Lane—that was about twelve months before he married my daughter—he told me then he was trying for a divorce, and he should get it in six months—my daughter was living with me at that time—I received this letter from him; I think about November last year, and I went to see him—this is the letter: "252, Kennington Lane. Will you look down this evening; the Court has granted me a divorce, and I am now, thank God, free. Yours truly, H. L. Ayling"—I said "You have got the divorce, I see"—he said "Yes"—I said "I suppose you will soon be married then?"—he said "I have got it here," and he showed me a piece of parchment folded up—I saw him afterwards, and said I was surprised he had got it so soon—he said he was in the law and he knew how to do it sooner and cheaper—I had said I thought it was very expensive—the prisoner was lodging at 252, Kennington Road—my daughter was married from his lodgings—it was at his lodging I saw the parchment—on the morning of the wedding it was lying on the table; he said "I must not forget to take it with me to church, for fear some of the opposite party may be there"—I went with my daughter to the church, and they were married on 14th February, 1870—after the marriage the prisoner came to my house and brought the document with him—I asked him to bring it in order that the rest of the family might see it—we had no doubt, but it was for our satisfaction—my husband was present when it was read—it was a document exactly like this—I did not understand it, but I heard what the substance was—it was a document of divorce from the first wife that he might marry my daughter—he took it away with him after he read it—some time afterwards my daughter brought the document to me, and I had it in my possession about a fortnight, and after that she fetched it away—I never opened it—I afterwards saw it in the possession of my husband, and he gave it to Mr. Coleman, the solicitor, in my presence—some time in the present year proceedings were taken in the Lambeth Police Court for bigamy, and then I found out that the document was not genuine.
(This purported to be an order of Her Majesty's Court of Divorce, that the marriage, solemnized on 25th January, 1865, between the petitioner Harry Lewis Ayling and the respondent Emma Ayling, be dissolved, annulled, and made void by reason of her adultery with John Collier, and stated that, it was lawful for him, to marry again during her life.)
Cross-examined. My daughter was married from the prisoners lodgings—she left my house in October previous, and was married in February—she was living in the same house with the prisoner during that time.
HENRY HORNER COLEMAN . I am a solicitor, practising in Greenwich and in London—in the early part of this year I was consulted by the prisoner's first wife, and afterwards by the second—the prisoner was given in to custody in May for unlawfully marrying Mary Jane Doery, his wife, Emma Ayling, at the time being alive—I produce two marriage certificates; the first is dated January 26th, 1865; it is the certificate of a marriage at Greenwith Parish Church with Emma Merritt, and the other is on 14th February, with Mary Jane Doery—the document which has been produced was placed in my hands by Mr. Doery—I made some inquiries, and found it was a sham—I was present when the prisoner was charged with bigamy the Sessions before last—he pleaded guilty, and sentence was deferred until after the hearing of this case.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment for the Forgery , and Twelve Months' Imprisonment for the Bigamy to run concurrently.
MR. HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. CHARLES MATTHEWS the Defence.
THOMAS JOHN WATSON . I am a draper at 43, Fore Street—on the morning of 7th July, about 8.15, I came down stairs—I unbolted the shop door, but left it shut—I went down to the kitchen to breakfast—I heard strange steps overhead, and raced upstairs very fast and very lightly—I opened the door at the back of the shop quietly, and there I saw the prisoner and another man—they had stowed this flannel in a bag, and were about to put in more—I seized them both, one with one hand and one with the other, but they were too powerful for me—the other man made for the door and got out—I called "Stop thief! secure him!"—I still held the prisoner, but he succeeded in getting to the door, and got away—they had overpowered me at the door, and hurt my arm and legs so much I could not pursue them—I called "Stop thief!" as loud as I could—they left their two hats behind, and the flannel on the ground—this is the flannel; it was worth about 5l.—when I called out, the neighbours took it up, and the prisoner was brought back to the shop in about five or six minutes—I recognised him directly—I am quite sure he is the man.
Cross-examined. The two men were in the shop when I went in—I had a violent struggle with them for about a minute or a minute and a half.
ALBERT HARRIS (City Policeman 156). On the morning of 7th August, about 8.25, I saw the prisoner running as fast as he could in London Wall pursued by a number of persons—he was without his coat and hat—I caught him—he said "I have only knocked a boy down"—those pursuing him said "He has been in Mr. Watson's shop"—I took him back to the shop and Mr. Watson identified him as being the man who was in his place—I took him to the station.
T. J. WATSON (re-examined). When the prisoner left my shop he had a coat on—the two hats were left on the counter.
PLEADED GUILTY* to having been before convicted in October, 1870.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, August 22nd, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
595. ROBERT SLADE (68) , PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously receiving six hat crowns, the property of George Fudge, well knowing them to be stolen— He received a good character; recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
596. JOHN NOBLE (20) , to stealing 5l. of Theodore Kaltenback, his master; also to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 19l. 4s. 7d., with intent to defraud— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
597. PATRICK MOLLOY *†(19), to stealing one watch of Jonathan Webb, from his person, having been before convicted in November, 1870— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. LONGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. DAVIS defended Wilson.
WILLIAM BERRY WESTWOOD . I am a druggist, of 16, Newgate Street—on 9th August, about 5.30 p.m., I went up my staircase to speak to Mr. Kingsford, and saw Denyer come out of Mr. Kingsford's room—I stopped him on the stairs—he struggled away, but I caught him again—he struggled again, and knocked me down, got out of his coat, which I had hold of, and got into the street—I left the coat on the stairs—it was examined at the station, and two pipes and a cigar tube were found in it—they were my property—I had left them in Mr. Kingsford's room—the house is in the parish of Christ Church, Newgate Street.
ANN SUSANNAH JOKES . I am in Mr. Kingsford's service—he occupies the third floor, and other parts—on the afternoon of 9th August, about 5.30, I heard a noise in the sitting-room, went on to the landing, and saw Denyer with his hand in an open drawer—he knocked a chair down which was in his way, and ran at me, knocked me down and picked me up, and threw me on the fanlight—Mr. Westwood came up stairs, and Denyer knocked him down, and slipped out of his coat—these pipes are his property—I gave the coat to Mr. Kingsford.
JOHN GLAZIER . I am traveller for a firm at 16, Newgate Street—on 9th August, about 5.30, I heard someone halioa "Stop thief!" and "Murder!"—I went on to the landing, and saw Denyer running down stairs, without a coat—he ran across the road—I followed, and caught him across Newgate Street—I am certain he is the man—Wilson then came up, and I believe he came out of Mr. Westwood house—he struck me, and threw me down, and got Denyer away from me, and they ran away together.
Cross-examined. I saw no one else run up to where the struggle was—I did not see many people—I cannot swear that Wilson came from Mr. Westwood's, but I imagine so—he struck me, threw me down, and hurt my knee—they both ran into the Bluecoat School passage.
EDWARD RUTLAND (Policeman C 278). I was in Newgate Street, and saw Glazier running after Denyer, who was in his shirt sleeves—he caught him, and Wilson immediately came in a direction from Mr. Kingsford's house, and knocked Glazier to the ground—both prisoners ran away—I followed, and took Wilson.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether I mentioned at the Police Court about Wilson coming from Westwood's shop; I was not asked—he came from that direction—I was regulating traffic, and had my eyes both ways—there was no crowd—I ran up because there was an excitement.
Wilson's Statement before the Magistrate: "I am innocent of striking the gentleman. I caught hold of his hand, but did not strike him."
DENYER— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
WILSON— NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. A. B KELLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MATTHEWS defended Simmonds.
FREDERICK DOWN (City Policeman). On 10th July I was in King William Street, City, with Halse and Gilbert, and saw the four prisoners sitting down—Johnson went by the side of a lady, where some new pavement was being laid down; Simmonds stood partly in front of her, and the other two prisoners were a little distance away—Johnson put his left hand in the lady's pocket, but did not appear to take any thing—they continued loitering for some time, and Read and Carter went to the other side of the road, and came round the other side—Simmonds and Johnson remained where they were—Johnson placed himself by the side of a gentleman, who was standing by the edge of the kerb—Simmonds was partially in front of him, and Carter and Read three or four yards away on the gentleman's right—Johnson put his left hand under his arm, laid hold of the chain, and drew the watch out—he was immediately seized by Halse—Simmonds was walking rather hurriedly away from the crowd, and I caught him—Gilbert caught the others, and we pushed them all into an office till we got further assistance, and took them all to the station—we had seen them all together the previous day, with another.
Johnson. You said at the station that you followed us for an hour or two. Witness. Yes, but we did not take you because we wanted to have a case against you.
Reed. Q. Did you see me do anything wrong? A. I never saw you attempt to steal anything, but you were with the others.
Carter. Q. Are you sure you saw us the day before? A. Yes.
DANIEL HALSE (City Policeman). I was with Down, and saw the four prisoners at the corner of Eastcheap, in conversation—Johnson and Simmonds left Carter and Read, and crossed over to the other side of the street—Johnson placed himself at the side of a lady, and Simmonds was in front of him—they moved away, and an elderly gentleman came down from Gracechurch Street—Simmonds placed himself in front, and Johnson on his left side—Carter and Read stood a few yards up, towards Gracechurch Street—I saw Johnson's left hand go under his right arm to the gentleman's pocket—I caught hold of his hand, and said "Give me that watch"—he said "All right," and gave me this watch (produced), with the bow broken—I called out to the old gentleman, and to Down, and Simmonds made a
start, as if he was going towards Gracechurch Street, where Carter and Read were, but Down caught hold of him—we pushed them into an office, and the other two were brought there—I took Johnson to the station—he refused his address—I was with Down the previous day, and saw the four prisoners, and a man not in custody, together—they were all in company—they sat down in one of the recesses, and had a long conversation.
HENRY HULAB . On 10th July I was at the corner of Gracechurch Street, looking at the putting down of the pavement—I had something in my right hand, and a bag and umbrella in my left—my coat was open, and my chain hung there—I felt my chain fall across my right hand and missed my watch—the swivel was perfect—this is my watch (produced)—I did not see any of the prisoners.
Cross-examined. The bow is broken—the maker's name is Shepherd.
ISAAC GILBERT (City Policeman). On 9th July I was with Down and Halse, and saw the prisoners together—on 10th July we were at the corner of Gracechurch Street, and saw the four prisoners—they surrounded a lady, but I was not near enough to see what they did—I saw Carter and Read cross over and surround a gentleman, but I cannot say what they did—from what Halse said I seized Carter and Read, and pushed them into a doorway—I afterwards told them it was for stealing a gold watch.
Read. Q. Do not you know that I work hard for my living? A. I last saw you at work nearly six years ago as a costermonger with a barrow; it is over three years—I have seen you in Billingsgate, but not at work.
Carter. Q. Where did you first see me? A. At the corner of King William Street—I was waiting for you there very nearly an hour before you came—I did not tell you that I was not there five minutes, and was very lucky to take you—there was no crowd, only half a dozen men working—I did not see you and Read do anything.
Johnson's Defence. I went to King William Street, and stopped to look on. It was close upon 2 o'clock, and I turned to go away, and saw a lot of people stooping. I saw the detective pick up something close to my feet; I did not know it was a watch. When I was taken he shouted out "Stop, Jim, I have got the watch." I never saw the other prisoners before in my life. The prosecutor says he took the watch out of my hand, which is false. They said they were determined to have someone that day.
Read's Defence. I am not guilty. The gentleman says he did not see me there.
Carter's Defence. We had just come away from market, and sent the donkey round the other way, and the prosecutor put his hand on the two of us for stealing the watch, which we knew nothing about.
JOHNSON was further charged with a previous conviction at Newington in February, 1871, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.*— Seven Year's Penal Servitude. SIMMONDS was further charged with a previous conviction at Southwark in December, 1871, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Eighteen Months Imprisonment. CARTER was further charged with a previous conviction at Guild-ford, in June, 1869, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. READ— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
GEORGE SWETTERHAM , I am a pilot—on Monday morning, 29th July, I came up from Gravesend, and went to a watchmaker, Sir John Bennett, and obtained my watch—I went to Billingsgate Market, and the prisoner came behind me and put his arms round me, and I found my watch chain dangling down—I had two watches in my pocket—I had changed them two minutes before, and put my own watch on the chain—I lost the best one, which had been repaired—I never lost sight of the prisoner—I caught hold of him and held him till a policeman came—there were a great many people round me, and there was a great confusion—there was nobody else on the pavement when I found the prisoner's arms round me, and he was sneaking away with his coat half off—I cannot swear he took the watch; he may have held me while somebody else took it—he was the only person at my back—there was a crowd some little distance off, round a cart which had been overturned.
JOSEPH PATRICK (City Policeman 813). I saw the prisoner struggling with Swetterham, who charged him with taking his watch—his chain was hanging down with nothing at the end of it—the prisoner was trying to get down Nicholson's Wharf.
PLEADED GUILTY. ** Ten Year' Penal Servitude
OLD COURT.—Friday, August 23rd, 1872.
Before Mr. Justice Quain.
GEORGE HENRY ALWAY . I live at 232., Gray's Inn Road, and am a solicitor's clerk—the deceased was my brother—I saw him dead at Charing Cross Hospital—he was about thirty-five years of age—he was a baker and confectioner, but before his death worked as a porter in Covent Garden Market—I was at the hospital on Saturday evening until twelve o'clock, and on Sunday morning at eleven o'clock he died—I was not present when my brother made a deposition before Sir Thomas Henry.
WILLIAM USHER . I am a Superintendent of Police—I was at the Charing Cross Hospital on the 27th June, when a deposition was made by the deceased before Sir Thomas Henry—the prisoner was there, and had a full opportunity of examining the deceased if he had thought proper to do so.
Deposition read. ROBERT ALWAY says "I lately lived at 14., Short's Gardens. I am a labourer. I am thirty-five years of age. I know the prisoner, he is the landlady's son, he stops in the house and takes the money. I was a nightly lodger at 3d. a night. At a quarter past eleven o'clock last night I was in the kitchen; there were one or two other lodgers there. Prisoner called me up stairs, and said we had charged his mother for more hay than they had cut, then he punched me and kicked me. I did hit him somewhere in return with my fist. Mr. Shannon and two or three others pulled him away, and I went down stairs. I was putting on my waistcoat to go when prisoner came down, and with a piece of iron, or a hammer, he struck me on the head—I fell; it made me insensible, but I recollect the prisoner's kicking me on the shoulder and back when I was down; the violence
ended there. As soon as I got up, a man named Alfred brought me to the hospital. When I got into Short's Gardens prisoner challenged me to fight; I told him I did not want to fight or interfere with him; that is all that occurred, so far as I recollect. It was the blow on the head that injured me. I bled a great deal in the kitchen. Prisoner and I were both the worse for drink." ROBERT HOLLOWAY, his mark.—" Prisoner was not so very drunk but that he knew what he was doing. We had a few rounds in the passage before he struck me with the iron. I did not see what it was the prisoner struck me with; it was heavier than a stick, I think. Prisoner and I had been very good friends before. I used to out hay for the prisoner's mother; she said I had charged for more than I had out."—ROBERT HOLLOWAY, his mark.
ALFRED ELLIOTT . I live at 14, Maiden Lane, and am a porter at Covent Garden Market—it is about eight weeks last Wednesday since this occurrence took place—it was some time about the 20th of June—I lodged with Alway at 14, Short's Gardens—I was standing with two or three others near to the front door between 11 and 12 o'clock at night, waiting for the deceased to have some beer before we proceeded to our night's work, when the prisoner came up and asked me how many trusses of chaff I had cut for his mother on the Monday—the chaff was cut at his mother's stables—I told him seven, and that she had paid me 2s. 4d. for it—he then struck me in the face, and called me a liar—I said "There is no occasion For us to fight, if you think I have charged your mother for more chaff than I have out, I will pay you your money back"—he replied that if I robbed his mother I robbed him, and I said that I did not wish to do anything of the sort—he was the worse for drink—he then went in doors and called Alway into the passage from the kitchen below—I had engaged him to help me to cut the chaff—the prisoner asked him how much chaff he had cut on the Tuesday, and Alway said "Five"—then he asked him how many he had cut that night, and Alway said "Six"—the prisoner then struck him once or twice, and the deceased told him not to do it again—he struck him again, when the deceased closed with him, and they fell to the ground—the deceased was uppermost—a man named Smith and myself separated them—then the deceased went down stairs, and the prisoner to his own room—I did not see Doherty for five minutes, or perhaps a little more—I was waiting at the door for Alway to go with us to have some beer, and after the blows Alway went down stairs—the prisoner went down stairs after the deceased, in about five or ten minutes, or a little more, I cannot speak exactly—I then went to the area railings, and, looking down into the kitchen, I saw the deceased lying on the, floor, with his back towards the window—the gas was lighted, and I did not see anyone else there except the prisoner, who was standing over the deceased with a weapon in one hand, similar to a hammer—a short time afterwards I went to the market.
COURT. Q. Did anyone volunteer to go down into the kitchen? A. No; I felt afraid—there were two or three more men waiting about—I did not see that the prisoner had anything in his hand when he followed the deceased downstairs—I met the deceased three-quarters of an hour afterwards, going to the hospital—he was in a very weak condition, and a man was leading him—I took hold of his other arm and assisted him to the hospital—' there were some shutters in the passage where the scuffle first took place, but I did not see any of them fall.
Cross-examined. I saw the whole proceedings, and certainly none of the shutters fell—that I swear—the prisoner first called me a liar—he did not come down the street and ask me about the chaff, and say that I had been trying to rob his mother—I was standing at the corner of the area when be struck me—he did not tell me I had been robbing his mother before he struck me—I did not call him a liar, or anything of the sort—I was perfectly sober—I had only had a share of a pot of beer—the prisoner and the deceased scuffled together in the passage, and the deceased tried all that he could to prevent the prisoner from striking him—the prisoner's wife did not come and part them, nor did they all fall to the ground—the deceased and the prisoner were afterwards in the cellar, but not the wife.
HENRY SMITH . I am a porter, and live at 14, Short's Gardens—on 27th June, about 11 o'clock on a Wednesday night, Elliott and I were standing at the prisoner's door, and I heard him ask Elliott what made him rob his mother—Elliott said he had not; it was a lie—the prisoner said that he did not believe him—Elliott then called him a liar, and prisoner pushed him but did not strike him—Elliott then went away, and the prisoner proceeded indoors—I had stood there for about a quarter of an hour when I heard a row in the passage—I saw the prisoner and the deceased fighting there—they were striking each other, and I saw the deceased kick the prisoner in the ribs—he had on thick boots—the prisoner's wife came out to part them and she was knocked down—all three fell, and the two shutters which were in the passage came down on the top of them—the prisoner was underneath each of them—the shutters fell on the deceased, who was on the top—I cannot say what conversation took place between the prisoner and the deceased before I heard the row—I was not aware that any conversation took place at all—I might have heard a word or so said about the chaff—when the fight was over in the passage the deceased went down stairs and the prisoner into his own room—I remained standing at the door for about a quarter of an hour—I did not hear anything take place in the kitchen—I could not see all over it—I did not hear any words in the kitchen, but there was a slight row, as if something had fallen, and in consequence I went below—I found the deceased lying on the floor close beside the fender, bleeding from the head—I only saw one wound—I cut off some of his hair and washed the wound.
COURT. Q. Was there any other person there? A. No—I did not see the prisoner from the time he went into his own room until I found the deceased in the kitchen—I did not notice that the deceased was bleeding from the face before he went to the kitchen—the passage was dark and I could not see anything—I advised the deceased to go to the hospital, and he said he should be all right after he had lain down for a bit on the form—the prisoner was very drunk and so was the deceased—both of them were drunk and fell all over the place.
Cross-examined. The deceased struck the first blow—he struck the prisoner by the side of the ear, but I did not see the beginning of the row—I first saw the deceased strike the prisoner in the face—the shutters which fell were 5 or 6 feet long, and about 2 feet wide, and there was an iron bolt on each—they fell right across the deceased—I did not see anything like a hammer there, though I was the first who went into the kitchen—I went down directly it was done—the prisoner was very drunk when he went into his own room—I picked the deceased up, and he did not make any complaint to me—the prisoner had not a hammer in his hand when he
went into his own room—I did not see a hammer, or anything like one, when I got to the kitchen—I did not see Elliott looking down the area—he was not there, or else I must have seen him—the deceased's health was not very good—he was never hardly at work, and complained at times of not being very well—I did not know from what he was suffering.
MARGARET SHANNON . I am the wife of David Shannon, lodging-house keeper, of 15, Short's Gardens—I was sitting near to my front door when this occurrence took place—I heard a disturbance next door, and when I went to see what was the matter I saw the witness Smith in the act of taking off some shutters from the top of the deceased, and the prisoner was underneath him—I saw the deceased kick Doherty in the mouth with his naked foot—it is not true that he had thick heavy boots on; he had no boots on at all during the struggle in the passage—I helped to separate them, and then the deceased, after I had got him into the parlour, went down stairs; I advised him to do so, and it was with some difficulty that I prevailed upon him—he stopped calling Doherty names—I then went into my own house, next door, from which I could hear the least noise in Doherty's—I heard a sound like the falling of forms about the place; it was as if something heavy had fallen—I then came out again aid stood at the area—I could see a little way into Doherty's kitchen, and I noticed that the gas was burning—I did not see the deceased there, only Doherty—Smith was standing at the area railings at the time—Elliott was not there after the fight.
COURT. Q. Did you see anything after the row in the passage? A. No; I never went into the kitchen at all—Smith was looking into the kitchen the same time as myself—we stood in front of the kitchen window, which was only partly open—I could see a good part of the kitchen—if I had stooped a little I might have seen the fire-place and the fender.
HENRY SMITH (re-examined). The kitchen window was a small one—I can't say whether it was shut or not—I was standing close against the front door when I heard the noise—I could see some portion of the kitchen from where I stood—I did not go close to where Mrs. Shannon was standing.
Cross-examined. The front and the area railings joined each other; at least they were not six inches apart.
ARTHUR HENRY SAVORY . I am house-surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital—the deceased was brought there on the night of the 28th June—I attended to him—he was perfectly sensible—he was helped in, not brought in on a stretcher—he had a slight contused wound on the right side of his head, and another wound at the back, on the protuberance over the neck, and the bone was fractured—it was a compound fracture—his injuries were attended to, and he went on well for some few days, when alarming symptoms set in, and he died on the 21st July—the wounds must have been caused by some heavy instrument—on making a post-mortem examination I found that the membrane of the brain under the seat of the fracture was inflamed—it was a small round fracture, about the size of a penny—abscesses had formed on the liver, lungs, and other internal organs—they arose from pyema, incidental to the fracture—blood-poisoning had taken place—the abscesses had not arisen from natural causes, but were owing to the wound upon the head—the body was not in a healthy condition generally, because pyema had set in—it was pyema that killed him—I could not tell what had been the general state of the body before he was admitted, or shortly before his death, because pyema had caused much disease—I have heard all about the shutters falling, and the prisoner being seen with a hammer in
his hand—in my opinion the wounds were caused by a hammer—I have not the slightest doubt of that—I do not think that the shutters could have caused such a wound—it could not have been caused if he had fallen upon some fiat substance.
Cross-examined. I do not think that falling of the shutters with an iron bolt upon them could have caused such wounds—I have seen a good many cases of blood poisoning since I have been at the hospital—pyema may follow a small cut on the finger—there is no doubt that pyema was consequent upon the wound, however the wound was caused.
WILLIAM USHER (re-examined). I took the prisoner to the bedside of the wounded man at the hospital on the morning of 26th June—Alway looked at the prisoner, and I asked him if he knew the man—he said "Yes, that's the one that done it"—I said "Done what?"—he said "Split my head open"—I asked him with what? and he replied "With a hammer or a bit of iron"—the prisoner denied it several times, and said "I did not do it; I was not there, and was not at the house"—in consequence of the opinion of the doctor, I got a Magistrate to attend and take the deceased's depositions.
JOHN HOUSE (Policeman E R 45). I took the prisoner at 14, Short's Gardens, Drury Lane—I found him concealed on some coke under the kitchen stairs at the back of the basement, about 2 o'clock on the morning of the 27th—I said "You are William Doherty, I must take you into custody for violently assaulting a man named Robert Alway, who is now lying in the Charing Cross Hospital"—he replied "All right"—on the way to the station he said "I am not William Doherty, you have made a great mistake; I know nothing about it"—I searched the premises, but did not find either a hammer or a piece of iron; there was a small piece of iron used for stirring the fire in the kitchen, but that would not have caused the wound—there was a heavy fender, but no fire-irons—there were no marks of blood on the fender—I examined under the stairs but found nothing there.
The prisoner received a good character— GUILTY — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HOLLINGS the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, August 23rd, 1872.
Before the Deputy Recorder.
MR. H.S. GIFFARD, Q.C., and MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
JOHN WORTHERN . I am a clerk in the office of the Registrar of the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the file of proceedings in the liquidation of affairs of Charles George Bolder, of Great Grimsby, draper and outfitter—the petition is dated 20th June this year—it is a petition in the ordinary form, stating that he is unable to meet his engagements, and appealing to have his affairs liquidated—I also produce a statement of affairs to the 21st June, registered on 8th. July and dated the 5th.—it shows that the total debts are 1133l. 2s. 4d.—there are no secured creditors—the assets are
stated to amount to 500l. 16s. 10d.—that consists of stock-in-trade, fixtures, book debts, and cash in hand—the stock-in-trade is 328l. 3s. 1d., and the cash in hand 16l.—the first meeting of creditors appears to have been held at Bedford Bow on 5th July—Mr. John Daniel Viney, of Cheapside, was appointed trustee; that appointment is registered—resolutions were passed for removing the proceedings from the County Court at Great Grimsby to London, and the affairs were to be liquidated by arrangement—I also produce the order of the Court of Bankruptcy to prosecute, dated 19th July.
JOHN GEORGE GODDARD . I am a clerk to John Nicholson Mason, solicitor, of 7, Gresham Street, the solicitor to the trustee and creditors in this matter—I was present at the meeting of creditors; at the attornies' office, Messrs. Belphage & Co., Bedford Row, on 5th July—Mr. Mason, the defendant, and the creditors were there—Mr. Mason examined the defendant, and I took down the questions and answers—I have my notes here—I have made a transcript of the statement made at that meeting. (The examination of the defendant was here read, in which he said that he had no bank-notes in possession, and that he did not show a roll of banknotes to Mr. Gale, some of which were fifties, and say that he was coming up to London, and it would then be all right, and that he did not change 20l. with Mr. Gale.)
EDWARD SCOTT . I am a bankruptcy clerk to Mr. John Mason, the solicitor to the trustee in this bankruptcy and liquidation—I was present at the meeting of creditors on 5th July, 1872—I saw the defendant there—I next saw him on 17th July, at Ramsgate—I went down there with an officer—I saw him first at the window of the Admiral Harvey Inn, and afterwards just outside—he came down into the street, and I asked him if his name was Bolder—he said "Yet; I have not the pleasure of knowing you"—I said "I saw you at a meeting of creditors a few days back"—I then introduced the officer Reed to him, and he was taken into custody—he walked into the passage of the inn and spoke to the two young ladies who were coming out into the street—he said "Stay until to-morrow, and being my bag with you"—an arrangement was made that Reed should take the prisoner to London by the next train, and I should remain behind and search the luggage—two bedrooms, Nos. 8 and 9, were pointed out to me—I found this black leather bag in one of the rooms—it was shut; I opened it—I found some soiled linen, marked C. G. Bolder in full, and a roll of bank notes of the value of 400l.—I made a list of then—there is one 50l. note, which has been cut in two and joined with a postage-stamp margin; there is one 20l., two 10l., and one 5l. Bank of England notes; the rest are all notes on country bankers.
ARCHIBALD REED . I am clerk to Mr. Austin, messenger to the Court of Bankruptcy, London District—on 12th July I received a warrant to arrest the defendant with regard to bankruptcy matters, and also to make search—on 17th July I proceeded to Ramsgate with Mr. Scott—I did not know the defendant personally, and Mr. Scott went to identify him—I saw him at the Admiral Harvey, at the window first of all—in about five minutes he came down into the street—I told him I had got a warrant to arrest him and take him to London—he said "What for?"—I said "On suspicion of your leaving the country to defraud your creditors"—he said "I did not intend to do anything of the sort"—we then went back to the Admiral Harvey, and up into the room which the prisoner had been occupying—I asked him if he had any property—he said "I have nothing more than what I stand upright in"—I asked if he had any luggage—he said "No"
—I asked him if he had any money, or any pocket-book and papers—he said "I have nothing at all here"—I arranged with Mr. Scott that he should remain behind and execute the warrant to search—I saw two young ladies there, Miss Dales and Miss Good—there was something said by the defendant to them, but I did not hear what it was—I took the prisoner to Holloway Gaol, where he was lodged the same night—I asked him at the gaol if he had any property about him: he turned his pocket out and said he had 4l. and some silver, which was his money—I told him he could keep that money, I should not take it away from him—he said "That is all the property I have got."
HARRIET ANN MATILDA DALES . I was assistant to the defendant for seventeen months, up to the time that he failed—on the 4th July he told me he was going to London—in consequence of a letter from him, I and my cousin, Lucy Good, went up London, and found him living at Rayment's Hotel, in London Wall—on the next day we all three went down to Ramsgate, to the Admiral Harvey—my cousin and I occupied one room, and the defendant occupied another—I know this black bag; I have seen it at the defendant's house at Great Grimsby—I never had that bag in my possession at all—I had nothing to do with the bank notes in it—the defendant took it with him from Rayment's Hotel to Ramsgate—I was not aware that this 400l. was in the bag.
Cross-examined. We went to Ramsgate on 10th July; we arrived there about 4 o'clock in the afternoon—we started from Grimsby on the 8th, and arrived in London on the 9th, by the night train.
LUCY GOOD . I live at Great Grimsby—I am cousin of the last witness—we were assistants to the defendant—on Monday, 8th July, I came up to London with my cousin—we went to Rayment's Hotel, and on Wednesday morning I left with her and the defendant for Ramsgate by steamboat—I know nothing of this bag; it does not belong to me—I did not know it contained bank-notes—the defendant took that bag with him to Ramsgate—we had some boxes.
THOMAS HENRY GALE . I am a grocer at Great Grimsby—I knew the prisoner in June last, he came into my shop and wanted me to take some silver of him—he asked me if I would give him gold—I asked him how much he required, he said he could do with 3l.—I said I would take it—as he was going out of the shop, he turned back, put his hand in his waistcoat pocket and said "Oh by-the-bye, I have got 20l. in gold, can you give me notes for it?"—I said "I will give you what I have"—I went to my safe and found I had three 5l. notes—he pulled his pocket-book out, laid it on the counter, drew a roll of bank-notes out and spread them on the counter—he took the notes I had given him one by one, and spread them on the top, and rolled them up again—I am positive they were bank-notes and not bill-heads—I noticed another roll in his book—I said "Halloa, you have got a lot of money there, old fellow"—he said "Yes, I have taken care of myself"—I knew then that he was going through the Bankruptcy Court—a few days afterwards he came to the shop and said "I understand it has got across the road to Carter's; have you said anything?" I said "Yes, I have mentioned it"—he said "Don't say anything about it; don't mention it"—we parted then.
THOMAS NEWTON . I am an auctioneer at Great Grimsby—in June last, I purchased from the defendant a piece of land for 250l.—that was subject to a mortgage of 130l.—I paid the defendant 120l. on 12th June—I had
paid him on account 25l. 1s. 2d., and after the purchase was completed, I paid him 88l. 19s. 10d.—I paid him one 50l. note and one 20l. Bank of England note, and the rest in smaller notes and gold—this is the 50l. note—it is stuck together by the stuff from stamps—I believe this is the 20l. note I paid also.
Cross-examined. I paid him the money on 12th June at Great Grimsby.
EDWARD FUNNELL (City Detective Sergeant). On Monday, 22nd July, I went to Holloway Prison with a warrant to arrest the defendant on this charge—I handed the warrant to him and he read it himself—I got him into a cab, and he said "Let me see the warrant again"—I handed it to him, and he said "They charge me with removing property"—I said "Well money is property, is not it?"—he said "I did not think they would criminally prosecute me after they got all the money"—I found on him 3l. 16s. 6d., and this piece of paper containing memoranda.
JOHN DANIEL VINEY . I am an accountant and member of the firm of Ladbury, Collinson & Viney, 99, Cheapside—on 5th July, I was appointed trustee to his estate—at the close of the meeting, Mr. Mason said to the defendant "If you have any cash or any property you are bound to hand it over to the trustee here present"—he said he had nothing more than was shown in the balance-sheet—on the following Monday, 8th July, he called on me in Cheapside—he gave me up nothing, and made no statement of any further assets,
MISS DALES (re-examined). This paper is in the defendant's handwriting, and also the signature to the petition.
MR. METCALFE, after calling attention to the dates and circumstances of the case, submitted that the case failed, because under the 125 sec. of 32 and 33 Vic, c. 71, par. 4, the liquidation commenced from the date of the appointment of the trustee, which was made on 5th July, and that therefore the defendant was not liable for anything he had said or done before that date, which was the official commencement of the liquidation. Again it appeared by the Act that the certificate could only be granted by a Judge or Registrar in Bankruptcy, but the certificate in question had been granted by a Deputy Registrar. The maxim, "delegatus non potest delegari," operated here, and therefore the deputy's appointment was void. No proof had been given of the transfer of the proceedings from Grimsby to London, or that the alleged offence had been committed within the jurisdiction of the Central Criminal Court, He contended therefore that the liquidation not having commenced when the prisoner concealed from his creditors' knowledge the fact of his possession of the notes, he was not responsible for so concealing them. THE COURT considered that the certificate when granted gave the Trustee power as from the time of his nomination by the creditors, and that he having, as MR. METCALFE admitted, a right to receive all the property, had an equal right to know of it. MR. METCALFE replied that the appointment was surely not retrospective as to the right of instituting a criminal prosecution, and that there was no repetition of the false statements after the liquidation had legally begun. MR. GIFFARD, in reply, contended that the appointment of a Trustee dated from the very moment that the creditors selected him, and that the subsequent granting of a certificate was a mere ratification of their choice, and did not necessarily nullify an act committed in the mean time. The Act did not contemplate that in the all-important matter of the decision of the creditors as to whether the debtor should be made a bankrupt or allowed to liquidate, he should be permitted to make any number of false or misleading statements, which he could withdraw was the matter was settled.
The first part of 125 sec. provided clearly that at a meeting between a debtor and his creditors a Trustee might be appointed, and from that moment the appointment was virtually complete. The Trustee was appointed under certificate on 5th July, and the prisoner not having contradicted or altered his statements there was a continuing misrepresentation. There had also been a removal of property into the Jurisdiction of this Court. MR. POLAND on the same side called attention to the 6th sub-sec, of the 11th see. of the Debtors' Act, c. 62, by which it appeared that if any person whose affairs were liquidated by arrangement, made any material omission in his statement relating to those affairs he was guilty of a misdemeanour, unless the Jury were satisfied that he had no intent to defraud. MR. METCALFE was heard in reply. MR. DEPUTY RECORDER: "My opinion at present is that I could not stop the case on any of these objections. With regard to the objection that the Deputy Registrar had no authority to sign the document, I have Had the opportunity of taking the opinion of the learned Judges. As to the transfer of the proceedings I understand that objection to be withdrawn, as the papers may be transmitted by book post or in any other way. The third objection is that up to the 5th July the prisoner was never within this jurisdiction, and that the false statements must be made after the appointment of the Trustee. I don't think that will hold, I think the sections show clearly that any false statement or omission he makes of his affairs is within the meaning of the Act. Then at to the Jurisdiction, the offence was clearly committed in London. I am not at all certain that between the 8th and the 10th there was not also a repetition of his statement so long as it remained uncontradicted. With regard to the removal of the property, it would be a question for the Jury whether it was with him in London, and whether he did not take it away, intending to deprive his creditors thereof.
The Jury stated that they believed the notes were in his possession in London. THE DEPUTY RECORDER stated that MR. JUSTICE HANNEN and MR. JUSTICE QUAIN did not quite agree with him that the defendant's statement on the 5th would be sufficient. They did not decide that positively, but they agreed that the appointment of Trustee was duly made, and that then the law cast upon the defendant to make a full disclosure, and the learned Judges agreed that he ought not to reserve any point.
Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. STRAIGHT and HARMSWORTH conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE WHITEHOUSE . I am manager and one of the directors of the Company styled James L. Schofield & Co., Limited, Woollen Manufacturers, 36, Milk Street, Cheapside, and Rochdale—on 23rd May the prisoner came to me—I had known him before as representing his father, Isaac Leach Stott, of Rochdale—his father's business place was 9, Lilypot Lane, Noble Street, City—the prisoner represented his father's firm there—when he came on 23rd May, he asked to see some felt square carpets, large sizes—I showed him them, but the price was rather above what he wanted—I told him I could not deviate from my list at that time—he selected some of the carpets—I asked him who they were for, and he said for Isaac Leach Stott, of Rochdale—he produced this card "Isaac Leach Stott, 9, Lilypot Lane, Noble Street, City, and Rochdale"—I believe I had seen a card similar to
that before, in former transactions with the father—the prisoner told me to send the goods to 61, Watling Street—I noticed the variation in the address, and spoke to him about it—he said a man who had been employed there as stock-keeper and warehouseman had robbed him of 300l. or 400l., and it was through him the place was given up—he said as soon as his father had received the statement, and it was checked, he would send me the money, less 3 per cent discount—he said "These small matters are always paid for prompt"—if he had come and not represented himself as being there on his father's account, I should not have supplied him with any goods—I supplied him believing he was his father's agent, and that his father would pay for them, and that he had authority from his father to order them—I would not let the prisoner have the goods on his own credit—the 23rd May was the first order—that came to 7l. 10s.—that was the day he made the representations to me—I sent the goods the same day, I believe—I received this order from the prisoner on 28th May—it was brought by a messenger, I believe—I know the prisoner's handwriting—I believe this order to be his—I sent goods amounting to 4l. 13s. 9d.—on 1st June I received this memorandum from the prisoner, ordering goods to the amount of 6l. 11s. 3d.—on 11th June he earns and ordered more goods—I supplied him with six felt squares, amounting to 6l. 14s. 9d.—and at various times he ordered goods—on 18th June, 8l. 7s. 5d.; 19th, 2l. 17s. 2d.; 22nd, 14l., 3s. 9d.; amounting altogether to 40l. 18s. 1d.—all those goods were supplied upon that representation—we sent in the statement of account to the prisoner in due course, but I received no reply from him—in consequence of something I heard I wrote to the prisoner's father—received a reply, in consequence of which I went to see the prisoner respecting these orders, and I took his father's letter with me, and had a conversation with him—he read the letter—he said it was his sister's handwriting—this is the letter (Read; "Gentlemen—Answering your letter with statement to hand, I beg to say I have no London house whatever, nor have I any connection with the house referred to in your note—Isaac Leach Stott, signed E. Stott")—I asked the prisoner for some explanation—he said his father and he were at variance, and if I would go to Lincoln's Inn the next day I should have the explanation I wanted—he did not make any particular appointment, he merely said "I suppose you want your money"—I showed him the card, and said "Let me clearly understand, these goods are for the Rochdale house, for your father"—he said "Yes"—I wanted to know if Isaac Leach Stott & Co. was the same as Isaac Leach Stott of Rochdale, and he said distinctly, "Yes, of course"—I did not go to Lincoln's Inn, because he did not give me the address—he said I should see his father there—I corresponded again with his father, and the result was that I instituted these proceedings.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. My first transaction with your father was in October, 1870—I think I had seen you once or twice in the ware-house in Lilypot Lane—you were there representing your father—I never received a communication from Rochdale that your father had changed his name to "Stott, senior"—I did not know till you told me that you had left Lilypot Lane—I called to see you several times, but the door was locked—I never received any notes from Rochdale that you had left your father's employ.
October, 1871, I had an agency at 9, Lilypot Lane, and my son was acting there as agent—in October I gave up those premises, and he ceased in every shape and form to represent me—we separated altogether—I distinctly told him he was to do nothing for me in any way, and I have done so many times—from that hour to this I have never given him authority to order goods on my behalf, or to represent himself as my agent—I put an advertisement in the newspapers at the time I gave up the agency—the first I heard of anything with reference to the ordering of these goods was the statement of account which I received from the Company; and the reply which has been read was written by my daughter by my authority—during the time the prisoner was employed by me he had cards such as I have seen produced and heard read—I think it is an old card of my own—all these orders are in my son's writing and bear his signature.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I sent circulars to all my customers—George Whitehouse had a circular sent—I have not got one of them here—I also inserted an advertisement in the Standard, in October, stating that you had no connection whatever with me—I carry on business now as Isaac Leach Stott, Senior—I have not got a card here—that is the present bill-head, and has been in use since 20th August, 1871—I believe you have been in business in Lilypot Lane since then—I have not used cards like that produced by you—I have not had goods invoiced in the name of I. L. Stott & Co., and I did not print memoranda in that way.
CHARLES GEORGE . I am warehouseman to George Whitehouse—on 23rd May the prisoner came to his establishment and asked for some large-sized, felt squares—he said he was buying them for his father, Isaac Leach Stott, Senior, of Rochdale, and he asked what were the lowest terms for prompt cash and it would be settled promptly—I saw the prisoner give a card to—Mr. Whitehouse—I had seen a similar one before—I had known the prisoner as his father's agent in Lilypot Lane.
JAMES MURRAY . I live at 26, Ellsmore Road, Victoria Park—I am a porter and ply in Watling Street—on 9th June I received a document from the prisoner and went with it to Schofield's—I got three square carpets and took them to him—this is my signature for them.
JOHN MEGGETT . I am a porter, plying for hire in Watling Street—on 20th June, I went with an order from the prisoner to get some goods at Mr. Whitehouse's—I signed this receipt for them, and took the good to the prisoner, to his office.
CHARLES GROSMUTH RENEE L'ENFANT . I am clerk to the Registrar of the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the proceedings relative to the bankruptcy of Isaac Leach Stott, of 73, Milton Street, London, Manchester warehouseman—I have searched the files, but there is no order of discharge.
EDWARD FUNNELL (Detective Sergeant). I took the defendant in custody on 16th July, at King Street, Cheapside—I read the warrant to him and asked him if he was the person named in it—he said that was his name—I told him he must go to the station—I took him to Bow Lane and found the seven invoices from Schofield's and a promissory note for£50.
Prisoner's Defence. "I bought some goods from Mr. Whitehouse and gave him a card—he seems to have invoiced the goods as Isaac Leach Stott & Co.—I did not represent myself as my father's agent, as he said."
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
606. WILLIAM CONWAY (19), GEORGE GODFREY (21), and JOHN MURRAY (17) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of George Robinson, and stealing therein about twenty-two postage-stamps and other goods, his property, to which
CONWAY PLEADED GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment. MR. WOOD, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against
GODFREY and MURRAY— NOT GUILTY .
MR. W. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
DAVID MCKENZIE . I am a warehouseman, of 14, Store Street, Shepherd's Bush—on the morning of 26th June, from circumstances which were called to my attention, I searched my house—I missed a large quantity of property, a great coat, a diamond ring, and other goods, and almost every room in the house was in a state of great confusion—I had fastened the back window of the dining-room at 8.30 the night before, and I saw it safe at 12.30—everything was safe when I went to bed—on the morning of the 26th I found the dining-room window eighteen inches open, and away from the window in the garden there were footmarks—I have seen a coat which was found under one of the beds; it is not mine—a shirt and a piece of wire were also found in the kitchen, which did not belong to me—I handed them over to the police—a coat has been shown me by the police which I identify as mine; this is it—the back of a locket was also shown to me, which I can identify as having been stolen from me.
CARL SCHNEIDER . I live at 12, Store Street—the odd numbers are on one side and the evens on the other—about 11 o'clock on 25th June I saw a man and a woman sitting outside my house—I could not swear positively to them, but they are very much like the prisoners in general appearance—my house was entered that night.
JAMES MADKINS (Detective Officer X). From information received I went to Mr. Amherst, a pawnbroker's, in the Edgware Road, on 11th July, and on the same day I went to a pawnbroker's, named Thomas, in Judd Street, where I received the coat which was identified—on 9th July I saw the two prisoner in Portobello Lane—I was with Pike—I took the female prisoner—I said I should take her on a charge of being concerned in committing a robbery at Hammersmith—she said "I should like to know who told you I was concerned in that robbery"—the prisoner's sisters stopped her from speaking—I have known both the prisoners for some time, and have seen them together—they were living together as man and wife—before that I had been in the male prisoner's company—I found this shirt under the bed—I saw the prisoner on 6th June, and noticed that he was wearing that shirt; it was a striped pink, washed out—Flewin was with me on the 6th—it was not torn so much as it is now, but there was some black cotton down the front—I asked Murphy if it was some of his work, and be said "No, it is Minnie's"—as soon as I saw the shirt at the police-station I identified it as belonging to the prisoner at once—it was found under the prosecutor's bed—I received it from the Inspector on duty at the police-station—when I charged Adams she said "All right, I will come."
ALEXANDER PIKE (Detective Officer X). I was with Madkins, and took Murphy—I said "I want you," he said "All right; what do you want me for?"—I said he was charged with others in breaking into a gentleman's
house in Store Street on the morning of the 26th—he said "How long ago was that?" and I said "You can easily reckon it back"—he was then taken to the station—on the Sunday previous I was with Madkins in a public-house—I saw Murphy there—we could have taken him then, but the evidence was not complete—we had found the coat, but Mr. McKenzie had not identified it—I knew where to find him when it was necessary—I found this piece of a locket in Murphy's pocket, which was identified by the prosecutor—the rim round is gold; I have tested it—I have not seen the prisoner with a black coat; he generally wore a white slop.
THOMAS FLEWIN (Detective Officer). On 6th June, I was in company with the prisoner Murphy—he had on a pink striped shirt, sewn with double black thread—this is the shirt, to the best of my knowledge—Madkins said "Is that your work?" pointing to the stitching, and he said "No, it is Minnie's," meaning the female prisoner.
Adams's Defence I pawned the shirt for a young man—they knew me well at the pawn shop—I put it in my own name, and that is the reason they have taken this young man.
Cross-examined. I have never seen this shirt before—he gave me a shirt once, and I gave it out to a person to wash for him—it was something like this—I could not swear, but I think it was a pink striped shirt; there was a piece sewn on the bottom of it—there is a piece on this one—I did not notice any black cotton—I did not notice that the female prisoner bad a pair of earrings, or a cross, or a brooch, or a watch—I never said I did—I was not in company with Murphy the day after the robbery—I don't know when the robbery was done—he gave me a pair of earrings—they were like wire plated over—he afterwards asked for them again and took them away—he had got a guard; it was not gold—my sister told me about the robbery at Hammersmith—she said that John Murphy had done a robbery at Hammersmith, and he went two days in the train.
Murphy. I have not heard a word of this before, the police are doing this for me, and they are paying her for it Witness. I am not paid for it, I was bound over to come here or else I should not have come.
MURPHY— GUILTY , He was also charged with having been before convicted.
THOMAS FLEWIN . I produce a certificate (Read: "Monday, 27th August, 1869. John Marvin convicted of stealing a hearthrug and other articles of Margaret Conn. Sentence: Eight months.") I had the prisoner in charge and was present at the trial—he is the same man.
GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MINNIE ADAMS— NOT GUILTY .
MR. W. SLEIGH offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, August 23rd, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
609. WILLIAM HASTINGS (23), and SIDNEY ELGAR POCOCK (18) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling of William Lovejoy, and stealing there in three cruet stands and other articles, value 350l., his property.
MR. A. K. LLOYD conducted the prosecution; and MR. WOOD defended Pocock.
CHARLES WALTER LOVEJOY. I am the son of Mr. William lovejoy of 37, Russell Square—on Sunday, 14th July between 4 and 5 o'clock a.m, I had occasion to get up early, and heard a noise down stairs and voices—I went down and saw Pocock in the hall—I watched him a few minutes, and heard him say "How shall we move these things?" and another voice said "We had better take a cab"—I went up stairs put on some clothes, and went back and saw the prisoners folding up some clothes, and told them the best thing they could do was to, go they made no answer—they had some coats on belonging to the house—I kept my eye outside the door, and seeing a figure pass who I believed to be a policeman, I told them they had better go—I was talking to them five or six minutes—I had ample opportunity of observing their faces—I looked out at the door and saw a policeman there—I talked to them at the door half a minute, and suddenly called "Police!" and "Thieves!"—they ran away, and the policeman pursued them—the door open into Montague place, where it joins the square—the policeman came down Montague place towards the square—I called my father, and in about five minutes Bell, the policeman, came to the house, and I went over it with him—the side board and cupboard in the dining-room and library had been turned but—I found a cupboard and door open down stairs, and the drawing-room the same—a bag was in the hall, containing a cruet forks a toast rack, mustard pot, wine strainer, salt cellars, eighteen forks a flute, some billiard balls, and other articles belonging to my father—the silver cruet frame was crushed—there were footmarks on the portico railing, and the bell had evidently been bent from being stood upon, and there were marks on the top of the portico and on the window-sill—both the lower and upper parts of the window were open—I am not sure whether we had been played at billiards the night before, but the billiard balls were all there when I last played—they were not there when I examined the room—there were marks on the carpet by the window, as if a man's feet had been wiped there—I saw no marks by the door—I picked out Hastings from a number of men at the station, and on the following morning I picked out Pocock—there were about four persons on each site of him—I had no doubt about their identity, then or now.
Hastings. Q. When you went there did the policeman give you a description of me? A. No; I was not told that you were the accused.
Cross-examined. I looked at the clock when I came down and it was about 4.40—I was the last person in the billiard-room overnight—I went to bed about 11 o'clock—I smoked overnight, and had some sherry and water—we always leave the window open at night—no one was in the billiard-room but me and my brother—I am sure I played at billiards; I said that I was not sure because I could' net recollect—I had not taken anything to stupify me—I had taken medicine overnight, and got at 5 o'clock because I felt unwell—one or two of the men at the station were older than the
prisoners; they were dressed in working men's clothes—there was not a policeman on Pocock's left, unless he was dressed in plain clothes.
Re-examined. I did not lock up the house—I believe my father did.
ROBERT BELL (Policeman E 224). On Sunday, 16th July, a little before 5 o'clock, I was on duty in Montague Place—I heard cries of "Thieves!" and "Police!"—I turned round and saw two men crossing the end of the street from the direction of 37, Russell Square—I chased them about 600 yards up Montague Street into Bury Street, and Hastings was brought back by another constable—I then went to 37, Russell Square—Mr. Lovejoy has correctly described the state of the house—there was a bag full of silver, a flute, and some billiard balls—I found marks of men's feet on the area railings, and on the bell knob and portico—the footmarks only went a little way on the carpet—Mr. Lovejoy identified Hastings among a number of others at the station, without difficulty—no suggestion was made to him.
Hastings. Q. Were not the streets perfectly dry? A. Yes; but you had been treading in some gutter—they were not the sort of marks that could be compared with your boots—the constable said nothing to me about a knife—I did not notice a tobacco-pipe in your hand—I did not give the prosecutor a description of you when I went back—I was sent back to see what harm was done—I did not take your description back.
Cross-examined. Three other constables were with me, they came up at the time—I was not there when Pocock was identified—I went into the billiard-room; it did not smell much of smoke.
HENRY WILLIAM PENTELOW (Policeman E 211). On 14th July, shortly before 5 o'clock, I was on duty in Great Russell Street, and saw the prisoners running a way from Montague Street, and Bell after them—I followed Hastings, caught him, and took him back to Bell in Oxford Street—I saw the prosecutor identify both prisoners; no assistance was given to him to enable him to find out which were the men—while I was with Hastings Pocock came up to me, and Hastings drew this knife (produced), and Pocock persuaded him not to use it; he said "Here is another constable coming."
Cross-examined. That is not the reason I say he is the other man; it is because I saw him running away—about two minutes had then elapsed.
Re-examined. I have no doubt that Pocock was running away from Bell.
Hastings. I want the constable brought forward who was in Bloomfield Street; he has never been examined. Witness. He is not here, he know nothing about it—you showed me a tobacco pipe in your hand, but you had a knife as well, and I took it from you at the station—the case was remanded for a whole week.
WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Detective Officer E). I arrested Pocock on Saturday night, 14th July—I went into the station at 6 o'clock, and saw Lewis there (that is Hastings)—I heard that another man was wanted, and knowing that Pocock was always with him I went in search of him—I went to a coffee-shop kept by Madame Le Grand, in Long Acre, and saw Pocock—I said "Here, Sidney, I want you for breaking into a house in Russell Square"—he said "All right, Mr. Chamberlain, I was in bed all night"—the landlord, who was present, said "Why I let you in this morning at 4.45."
Hastings. Q. Where have you seen this prisoner with me? A. At the Oporto Stores; you ran away from him a week before when I stopped him in Holborn—the inspector was with me when I went to your cell to see you; he opened the door with a key, and said "Do you know this young man," and I said "Yes"—Fisher was also with me—ther was no one in your cell.
FEDOLINE LE GRAND (through an interpreter). I keep a coffee-shop, in Long Acre—Pocock slept there two days before he was taken in custody, which was Sunday—he did not sleep there all night on 13th, July—he came in at 9.30, and returned at 4.30 on Sunday morning, and took a cup of coffee when he came in.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not that on Sunday night? A. I don't know—I don't know when I went to bed on Saturday night, but I got up on Sunday morning at 3.15, as a great many customers came in on Sunday morning at 4 o'clock, and there are a great many things to be prepared.
COURT. Q. Did you see Pocock enter? A. Yes, I was at the door when he came in, and I served him with coffee.
HASTINGS— GUILTY . **†
POCOCK— GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been convicted at Hammersmith in June, 1870, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. LONGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS and MR. MOODY the Defence.
He received a good character— GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character and his wife and child. — Eighteen Months Imprisonment.
MR. MATTHEWS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE BROWN the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, August 24, 1872.
For the case of ARTHUR JAMES BROWN, tried this day, see Surrey Cases.
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, August 24th, 1872.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. W. SLEIGH the Defence.
JOHN PERRY . I am a fishmonger, at 17, York Street, Bethnal Green Road—on 3rd August I was in Lower Thames Street, about 11.20 in the morning—I saw Mr. Illingworth at the corner of Dunstan's Hill, waiting for a van to pass—I saw the prisoner come up with a coat on his arm—I saw him break the prosecutor's watch from the chain—the prosecutor crossed the road, not knowing that he had lost his watch—the prisoner stood a minute or two at the corner—I ran and told the gentleman he had lost his watch—I saw the prisoner's hand under the coat when he took the watch, and the ring of the watch dropped on the ground—I ran after the prisoner, but lost sight of him for a moment—I saw him again up against
the archway of the bridge in Thames Street—I pointed him out to a policeman, and he was taken into custody—I did not see anyone with him.
Cross-examined. Where I saw him at the arch was close to the passage leading down to the steamboats; that is close by Billingsgate—the street a crowded at that time in the morning—I said at the Mansion House that I might be mistaken, and I wish I was, for my own benefit—it is about 100 yds. from where I first saw him to the archway—he stood still after he took the watch, and looked into the road—he waited a moment or two—he did not try to get away at that time.
Re-examined. I did not say I was mistaken, I said I might be; and the reason I said I wished I was, for my own benefit, is because, if I come and give evidence against the prisoner, my life is in danger.
DAVID SHIP (City Policeman 809). I was in Lower Thames Street on 3rd August—the prisoner was pointed out to me—he was carrying this overcoat on his left arm—I took him into custody and charged him With stealing a watch from a gentleman near St. Dunstan's Hill—he said "You have made a mistake, I am not the man; I was going to take the boat to Greenwich."
WILLIAM ILLINGWORTH . I am a timber merchant at Leeds—on 3rd August I was passing through Lower Thames Street—as I was about to cross St. Dunstan's Hill I had to wait—the prisoner came up in front of me, and, as I thought, pushed me rudely—I turned and looked at him; he had this light coat over his left arm—Perry spoke to me, and I missed my watch.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was brought to me by the policeman in Thames Street, in custody—after Perry spoke to me he went after the man.
GUILTY .—He also
PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted in February, 1865.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WITHERS conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED MARTIN (Policeman C 288). About 4.15 en the morning of 3rd August I was in Grafton Street, Soho—I saw the prisoner come out of the prosecutor's shop door with a parcel—he went round into Hayes Court—C 290 came down the court, and he ran after him and brought him back in custody—I went to the house, and found the hasp of the padlock was pulled off, the staple was drawn out, and the door forced open—I called up the inmates.
WALTER EXOR (Policeman C 290). I saw the last witness in Grafton Street—he spoke to me, and I pursued the prisoner for about 600 yds., and brought him back—when he saw me turn to start after him he threw down the parcel he was carrying; it came open, and I saw it contained boots—I caught the prisoner—he said "You have made a mistake; I am not the right man"—I never lost sight of him—the parcel was thrown down in Hayes Court; when I returned with the prisoner, in about ten minutes, it was gone.
THOMAS FRENCH . I am a boot and shoe maker, at 13, Grafton Street and 31, Newport Street—I closed my shop on the night of 2nd August, about 10 o'clock, and I saw it safe at 12.15—next morning I found it had been disturbed, and I missed about forty pairs of boots—two locks of the door had been forced open—three pairs of boots were found last night at a
pawnbroker in Drury Lane, with my mark on them—the prisoner came into my shop once to buy a pair of boots; he was shown a quantity, but did not purchase any.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent of this, I was walking quietly up the court, a man rushed past me, and they caught me for him. If I had been guilty I could hare gone into a doorway, which is always open, to my knowledge.
GUILTY .—He also
PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted in August, 1864.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. HARRINGTON conducted the prosecution; and MR. BARNARD the Defence.
WILLIAM HILL . I live at 13, Umberstone Street, St. George's—about 8.30 at night, on 18th June, I was looking into a shop window in the Commercial Road, when the prisoner and two others came up—a man named James, who has been tried and got nine months', snatched my watch, and the prisoner threw me on my face—I am positive he is the man—my watch was worth 7l.—the prisoner got away—I next saw him about a fortnight after at the police-station—I saw a group of persons, and I picked him out from about eight, I should think.
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not pick my pocket when I ran after the man who took my watch, he tripped me up—he was a stranger to me—I was looking into a watchmaker's shop—I was tripped up not far from the window—I described the men to the police that night—I told them there were two short chaps and a tall chap; and then on the Saturday they had the one that has got the nine months, and I went and picked him out—I went direct to the police-station after I was robbed—the men all ran away in the same direction—I never struck the prisoner at all—I saw them all well as they grabbed my watch; they had a hard job to get it away—the one who took the watch was a short man.
EDWARD ESCOTT . I live at 37, sidney street—on 18th June about 8.30 in the evening, I was in Commercial Road—I saw Mr. Hill there and the prisoner, with two others—one of them watched the prosecutor's watch—they were on the pavement by the watch shop and I was by the gutter—they ran away and I followed with the prosecutor—the prisoner tripped the prosecutor up, and ran on and got away—I am certain he is the man—I picked him out of seven others at the station.
DAVID HEBBLETHWAITE (Policeman K R 28). In consequence of numerous robberies in the neighbourhood of Stepney, and of a description, I took the prisoner on the 24th July, about 3 in the morning, at John's Place—I went to the front room up stairs and rapped at the door—the prisoner's father said "Who are you?"—I said "A policeman; I want your son"—he said "He is not here; there is no one here but me and my wife"—I searched, and found the prisoner under the bed with his trousers partially on—I told him I should take him into custody for having done numerous robberies—I took him to the station; and about 11 o'clock I fetched Mr. Hill and Mr. Escott, who identified him from six or seven more.
PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted in June, 1867.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE BROWN the Defence.
DANIEL HILLS . I live at Thomas Street, Limehouse—on 21st July I was in Commercial Road about 1.30 or 2 o'clock in the morning—I saw the prisoner standing, with a lot of other fellows—I turned on one side to go by—one of them rushed out, caught hold of my arms and held them down; another took hold of my neck and took my watch away, and 9s. in money—they ran away—I ran after them, but one ran up and struck me and knocked me down—I jumped up again and ran as fast as I could—I got a constable and he caught the prisoner—I don't know who took my watch and money, but I am sure Green was in the group.
Cross-examined. I was coming down the Commercial Road from Whitechapel—I had been to the theatre, but I had to walk right to Fenchurch Street, so I did not hurry myself—a man named Bishop was charged at the Police Court—I thought at first he was one of them, but afterwards I said he was not—I was not wrong in charging him—I said I thought he was one of them; and when I saw him the next morning I could not swear to him; I changed my mind—I was perfectly sober—there were a lot of men standing together, and the prisoner was with them—I did not see Green again until the constable had him—I kept sight of him until he turned the corner, and then the constable caught him—Bishop was not taken till afterwards—I saw at the station that Green was one of the company—I halloaed "Stop thief!"—I left the theatre at 12 o'clock.
STEPHEN SWEET (Policeman K 175) On 21st July I was on duty in the Commercial Road—about 1.30 I met five or six young men running—I caught hold of Green, who was one of them—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" at the time—the prosecutor came up and said "That is one of them; I will charge him; they have robbed me of my watch"—the watch has not been found.
Cross-examined. I saw them all running and I collared Green—I apprehended Bishop about 3 in the morning—he was discharged at the Police Court—I asked Green what he was running for, and he said he was running after the others, and denied the charge.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BARNARD conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED CAMPBELL , the Elder. I live at 2, Boswell Court, Bloomsbury—on 25th July, about 5.45 in the morning, I found the prisoner on the top of the landing, struggling with my son—he was given into custody—I went to bed the night before at very near 12 o'clock, leaving all safe—I found the house had been entered, and I missed three sheets, some socks, stockings, and towels, which had been hanging on the line in the kitchen the night before.
ALFRED CAMPBELL , the Younger. I went down at 5.45; I saw something was wrong—I put my head inside the kitchen door and saw the prisoner in the kitchen—I said "What do you want?"—he said "Nothing"—I caught hold of him by the coat and said "Come on up stairs"—he commenced to struggle; I got him up stairs, and he was given into custody
—he had three sheets, two pair of stockings, two pair of socks and a towel on him, my father's property—my mother called "Police!" and we minded him.
Prisoner. Q. How do you say I got in the kitchen, as I don't know? A. I told the Magistrate I believed you picked the lock.
MARGARET CAMPBELL . I am the mother of the last witness—I went to bed; on 2nd July, between 11 and 12—locked the kitchen window and fastened the door perfectly safe; I can't say whether the front door was closed—the house is occupied by several persons and I am not the landlady—the kitchen belongs to us and that is padlocked up every night—I locked that door it was found open the next morning—I don't know the prisoner—he was not a lodger.
Prisoner Defence I am quite innocent. I did not unlock any door.
GUILTY of stealing only — six Months' Imprisonment.
FOURTH COURT. Saturday August 24th, 1872.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MARY ANN HUGHES . I am a laundress, of 13, Alexandra Terrace, Hornsey Road—the prisoner is my daughter—I was parish church of St. Mary, Haggerstone on 22nd August, 1853, when was married to Joseph Thomas Morant, a shoemaker; he left her thirteen years ago, and that was the last I saw of him till last June.
Cross-examined. After their marriage they lived at different places; he left her five of six times; the last time was thirteen years ago, when he enlisted—she repeatedly tried to find out whether he was alive—we both considered him dead at the time she married her Second husband—She was residing with me at the time.
NOT GUILTY .
LYDIA CLARK . I am a widow, and live at 12, St. George's Road, Pimlico—I was taking care of the prosecutrix's house—the prisoner married my. niece, but Know very little of him—on the Thursday previous to 8th July, the prisoner and my niece called on me at the house; I let them in through the area door, and they went out the same way; they stopped a very short time—on the Saturday after, about dusk, I saw two men outside the house, one of them was a tall man, the other I could not identify—the tall man came to the street door; I spoke to him through the window—about 7.15 on the Sunday morning, I came down to look at the time by the clock in the hall, and saw some letters and papers lying open on the hall table; they
had been in the letter-box over night—I saw the dining-room door a little way open, and said "Who's there?" and the same tall man who I had seen on the Saturday, came to the door; he put out his hand and said "Go up stairs"—I was frightened, and went up; I put on my gown and boots; about ten minutes afterwards I heard the door shut; I then came down and gave an alarm, and the police came; this clock (produced) which was on the dining-room mantel-piece the night before, was then on the sideboard, wrapped up in newspaper—there was no one in the house but me.
Cross-examined. When the tall man told me to go upstairs he said "I am Mrs. Deering's nephew," or something of the sort—I was very much frightened—I know very little of the prisoner—I don't know where he had been living.
EDWARD STENSON (Policeman B R 38). On the Sunday morning Mrs. Clark spoke to me, and I went in and searched the house—I found a w. c door fastened on the inside, and on breaking it open I found the prisoner there—he had been drinking—I said I should take him in charge for breaking into the house—he said "I can clear myself in the morning before the Magistrate—after taking him to the station I returned and examined the house—I found that the wine-cellar door had been forced open, also the china and glass closet—I compared the marks with a chisel found in the house, and they corresponded—a square of glass had been broken in the area door, an iron bar forced away, a bolt was then withdrawn, and an entrance effected into the scullery, and then, by breaking another square of glass in another kitchen, and unlocking the door, they had access to the whole of the house.
Cross-examined. I have not ascertained that the prisoner bears a good character, but a very indifferent one—he was assistant to Mr. Hoare, a grocer, of Sloane Square, and was for three months manager of some cooperative stores in Oakley Street.
Re-examined. He was with Mr. Hoare fifteen months; latterly he got into bad company, and was dismissed for drunkenness, and the same from the stores.
HUSSEY HANDLEY (Policeman B 189). I was called to the house—I found this chisel in the hall—I compared it with the marks on the wine-cellar door—they corresponded in the w.c., where the prisoner was found—there was a bottle of port and a bottle of cura✗oa.
JAMES ROBERT CROOK . I am butler to Mrs. Deering, of 12, St. George's Road—in consequence of information I came up to town, and examined the wine-cellar—I found it broken open, and fifteen bottles of wine missing, as well as several other things.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Friday and Saturday, August 23rd and 24th; and
OLD COURT, Monday, August 26th, 1872.
Before Mr. Justice Hannen.
MESSRS. GRIFFITHS, HARRIS, and HARMSWORTH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH, with MESSRS. BESLEY and DOUGLAS, the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Hannen.
MR. LILLEY and MR. HUMPHREYS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
CHARLES MAYERER . I am a fireman on board the steam ship Antenor, which on the 11th of July was lying in the Victoria Docks—on that evening I met a number of the crew at a public-house near, kept by Mr. Corduroy—the prisoner and the deceased were there, and I saw the deceased afterwards have a row with one man outside—he was the quarter-master on board the boat—I stayed in the house from 8 o'clock till the shutting up time—the deceased had been drinking, but was able to knock about and row as well as the rest—I don't think he was either sober or drunk but he was in his shirt sleeves—about 10 o'clock there was a row with a lot in the street, but I did not go outside the door—I did not see the prisoner do anything, but as soon as Bates came in he began rowing with us the same as he had done with the persons outside—the prisoner said nothing whatever—the deceased afterwards went out and laid down in the gutter, and I picked him up and brought him in, but he went out again—I asked my mates to come home, and as we were trying to get Bates up, a policeman came and took him by the ear—when he got up he struck the prisoner three or four blows, and knocked him across the street, saying "You b——, I will make you hop yet"—we had some more drink, and then Bates, a man named Roberts, and I, went towards the dock gates, and we were not admitted—we went across some fields, and Bates was then slightly ahead of us—when we reached him Curwin said "What occasion had you to strike me at the public-house?"—Bates replied "You b—, I will give it to you again, and he gave it to him properly, striking him four or five blows in the face—the prisoner set back from him, and said he would not fight any more—Bates fell, and Curwin ran away, but returned, and Kneeling down by the side of the deceased said "You're a wicked man to fight with me."
Cross-examined. Bates had been very quarrelsome the whole night—he was in his shirt sleeves, and wanted to fight everybody he came across—the prisoner all along declined to fight, but Bates kept striking him very hard blows—me, Cook, Roberts, and a man named Goodman were from five to ten yards off at the time—when Bates left the public-house he did not seem to be any more in drink than I am at the present moment—there were no persons but Goodman, Roberts, and a girl of whom I had inquired the way, present at the time.
JOHN GOODMAN . I am fireman to Mr. Carey, coal merchant—I live at North Woolwich—on the night in question I was returning from the London Hospital, where I had been to see a man who was struck by lightning, when I heard a disturbance between Bates and a number of men—I heard Curwin say to him "What did you strike me for? I said nothing to you," when Bates replied "I have struck you before and will strike you again"—he commenced fighting at Curwin, when Curwin ran back about twenty-five yards, and said that he would not fight any more—then he returned and made a plunge at Bates, and hit him a very heavy blow
—I said to him "If you cannot fight you can lot jolly hard"—Bates began to groan, and then staggered and fell to the ground.
MR. WILLIAMS here stated that he could not resist the charge, and the prisoner, under his advice, would
CHARLES KELLAND . I am a surgeon, practising in the Barking Road—I made a post-mortem examination of the deceased the next day, and found a wound on the left breast, over the region of the heart, apparently caused by some sharp cutting instrument, which had penetrated the cavity of the heart, and had caused effusion of blood into the pericardium.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
DAVID DALES . I am a carriage proprietor, of Martin Street, Stratford—on 5th July I was watching the Fairlop procession—I felt some one pull at my waistcoat, and caught hold of the prisoner's hand—he bad my chain twisted round his hand, and my watch was gone—I accused him, and he said that I had made a mistake—I gave him in custody—my watch was worth 4l.—I received it by the Parcels Delivery Company on the following Friday, a week afterwards, done up in brown paper.
Cross-examined. There was a great crowd—I grabbed at the hand which had my watch-chain—I was told that I had the wrong man.
Re-examined. The gold bolt is gone from my watch, and a German silver one is put in.
Cross-examined. I was not called before the Magistrate—there was a considerable crowd—fireworks were going on.
PLEADED GUILTY, ** and there were seventeen other convictions against him.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. A. B. KELLY the Defence.
GUILTY of an indecent assault. — Two Years' Imprisonment.
AGNES BRUCE . I am single, and live at 3, Church Street, Plaistow—on 7th August the prisoner came into my employ as a general servant, and on 13th August, at 8.45, I saw a watch, a key, some earrings, and other articles, safe on my toilet-table—at 9.15 the prisoner came down screaming
there was a man in my room—I went up immediately, but there was no man—I missed the property mentioned, and sent the prisoner for a policeman—my watch and trinkets were found in the next garden, which they might have reached by being thrown out of the window—they are worth 10l.—I sleep on the first floor, 15 ft from ground—I saw no traces of any footmarks getting in at the window—the prisoner busied her-self by searching in my garden—my mother was in the back garden from 8 o'clock to 8.40.
Prisoner. I did hot know this witch was gone till you told me so.
Witness. You came tip with me when I missed it, to show me where you Saw the man.
MARY AGNES BRUCE . I am the mother of the last witness—on this morning I was in the garden from 8 o'clock to 8.40—my daughters bed-room looks due towards the back, and is about 15 ft. from the ground—I saw no man.
JANE MARY ANN CONSTABLE . I am the Wife of Benjamin Constable, of 4, Church Street, Plaistow—about 9 o'clock Miss Bruce came to me, and asked if there was a man in my house—the prisoner was in the next passage—I said "No"—if anybody had been there between 8 and 9 o'clock I must have seen them—a wooden fence divides my house from Miss Bruce's—on Wednesday morning I picked up a ring, and the other property was afterwards found—they must have been found if they had been there a quarter of an hour before.
JOSEPH BAILEY . I live a 6, Crafton Street, Plaistow—I was called to examine Miss Bruce's premises—I examined the garden and looked over into the next garden—there was nothing like the pretext of foot marks, nor any marks on the wooden fence—the prisoner came out and made believe to search, herself; she walked up to the building out of my sight—I then returned into the house, and she came in while I was searching the coal-hole—I went towards the place where I had seen her go, and picked up a portion of the jewellery.
WESLEY TOBIT (Police Sergeant K 3). On Tuesday, 13th August, about 9.5, I was called, and went up stairs, and Miss Bruce showed me the place where the property was taken from—the prisoner was there, and I asked her if she saw a man in the room; she said "No"—Miss Bruce said "Why did you run down and tell me you saw a man?" she said "I never said so"—I searched the garden, and subsequently took her in custody—she said "They did not see me put it there; they did not find it on me"—there were no marks in the room.
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutrix said that she could she I had taken it by the looks of my face, the sergeant called me a, liar and a thief. My mistress said that if I would tell her she would forgive me.
GUILTY.—Recommended to Mercy by the jury. — Eight Months' Imprisonment.
Before the Deputy Recorder.
625. ROBERT LANE (30), HENRY STYLES (60), and ALEXANDER STRADLING (58) , Stealing twenty-eight iron hurdles. Second count, twenty-eight other hurdles. Third count, twenty-eight other hurdles, of Joseph Stainton, the master of Lane.
MR. STRAIGHT and MR. HORACE BROWN conducted the Prosecution; MR. MEAD appeared for Lane, MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS for Styles, and MR. COLLINS for Stradling.
HENRY MAITLAND . I am a builder, of Rushey Green, Lewisham—I know Mr. Stainton's premises well—on Saturday morning, 13th July, I was leaving my premises, and saw on the high road a cart with iron hurdles in it and a well-boring rod—I followed it some distance, and directly I came back I gave information to the police—I have seen a quantity of iron hurdles in the possession of the police, and identified them as the prosecutor's property—I am constructing buildings for him, and know the premises perfectly well—he has marked out some private property of his, called Spring-field Park Crescent, with iron hurdles—I examined that part of the property, and missed about the same number of hurdles as were in the possession of the police—there is a summer-house on the property with two iron rails and balusters attached, which were wrenched off from the base, and I saw them in custody of the police and fitted them to the summer-house, and they corresponded exactly—the total value of the hurdles in the possession of the police was from 35l. to 40l.—they were in good condition, and it is impossible that they would be taken for old iron—Styles is a kind of gardener at Lady Well, a mile and a half from the property—I do not know Stradling, but I know his marine store shop in the lower part of Lewisham—you can get a cart into Mr. Stainton's property by opening a gate, which is always supposed to be locked—there are notice, boards to say that the land is private property.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I have known Styles ever since he was a little boy—he bears a good character.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS Lane is a gardener—it is 200 yds. from Mr. Stainton's house to the summer-house.
ROBERT GREGORY . I am carman to Mr. White, a marine store dealer, of South Street, Greenwich—on a Tuesday morning, I do not know the date, I was called up by the police—in the week preceding that I was at Mr. Stainton's on three occasions with my master's van—I know the last time was on a Saturday—I got instructions from my master, and called for Stradling on each occasion, and he went with me to Springfield in the van—we found Lane and Styles there—some of the hurdles were in the ground, and some were piled up—I took away on each occasion sufficient for my horse to carry—it is a four-wheeled van with one horse—I got there about 7 a.m., and the three prisoners helped me to load—I then drove with Stradling to Norman Wharf, where we delivered the hurdles—I have been employed by Stradling on many occasions, and have cleared him out—this land was enclosed by a fence and a gate about 5 ft. high—Lane opened the gate for me, as near as I can guess.
JOHN CHIPPERFIELD . I am in Mr. Morgan's employ—on 10th July I was going towards the prosecutor's, and saw a van in his park—Lane, Gregory, and Styles were with it, pulling up the hurdles and putting them on the van—Styles was looking on—the van was about a rod and a half from the hurdles, as near as I can tell.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. I was standing in the New Road, about 200 yds. from the hurdles.
WILLIAM WHITE . I am a marine store dealer, of South Street, Greenwich—I send my old iron for sale at Norman Wharf—I have dealt with Stradling for years; he is a marine store dealer, and is in the habit of
selling old iron—on 8th July he came to me, and said that he had bought a quantity of old iron at a farm—I said "What are they?" he said "Hurdles," and that the weight was two or three tons—I said that that would be too much for me to weigh, as my house was pulled down—he said "Take them to the wharf; I shall want you early in the morning, about 6;" that was Tuesday—I said I would send my carman, and the price would be as usual; that was 5l. 10s. per ton for old iron, and 6l. 5s. when I got my money from the wharf—I should make a profit of 15s. for drawing it and for labour—I had a running account with him, and have had for years—I asked Gregory to go on Tuesday morning with the van—I never saw the hurdles till they were delivered at Norman Wharf—when I did see them some were better than old iron and some were not, but the greater bulk were—as hurdles, 12s. a cwt. would be a very good price if they were sold to somebody to use again.
GEORGE ADAMS (Detective Officer P). On Monday, 18th July, I received information, and saw Gregory at White's stable—he showed me a quantity of iron hurdles at Norman Wharf, Greenwich—I went to Styles' house at Lady Well, and asked him if he knew who moved the hurdles—he said "No"—I said "We have come about the hurdles you helped to move"—he said "Yes; I helped to move some from Mr. Stainton's, and the gardener sent for me to assist him"—he said he did not know who moved them or where they went to—I took him to the station on the charge of stealing—I said that he must come with me where he would meet the prosecutor, which he did very willingly—Mr. Stainton was there and saw them all in the dock together—I took Lane and asked him if he had disposed of any of his master's hurdles—he said "Yes"—I asked him who authorised him to sell them—he said "My master"—I asked him if he had employed anybody to assist him—he said "No, but the carman"—I told him he must go with me to the station—he said "I sold them to Stradling for£2."
WILLIAM ELCOMB (Detective Officer B). I took Stradling on Monday morning, the 15th, and told him I wanted to speak to him in reference to some iron hurdles—he hesitated a minute or so, and then said "Do you mean that load I had from Southend?" I said "No; those you had from Rushey Green"—he said "Do you mean those I bought of a gentleman's foreman?"—I said "Yes; how much did you give for them?"—he said "35s".—I said "Who came to you about them first?"—he said "Bob Styles"—I told him I should take him in custody for being concerned in stealing them—he said nothing—I took him to the station, and he was charged and remanded, and committed for trial.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Stradling told me that Bob Styles came to him and told him where he could buy some hurdles—I charged him with receiving them, knowing them to be stolen.
JAMES JOSEPH STAINTON . I live at Meadow Croft, Lewisham—I have adjoining my residence some property called Springfield, a portion of which is laid out for building purposes for a crescent which is approved by the Local Board—Lane has been six or seven years in my employ, first as assistant-gardener, then as gardener and steward and bailiff of the farm—in the early part of July I was absent yachting—I returned on a Saturday afternoon, received a communication from Mr. Major, and put the matter in the hands of the police—Lane had no authority from me to dispose of these hurdles—about three years ago he had sold some hurdles under my instructions, but he had no authority of any sort or kind to sell these—I looked at the land, and found the hurdles all gone.
Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. The hurdles were 100 or 150 yards from my house—I am frequently away and leave the farm in the gardener's hands—I allow him a great deal of discretion; he is more bailiff than gardener—he has always borne a good character; I have known him from a child—I ordered him to sell some hurdles three years ago—they were sold satisfactorily to me, and I gave a receipt for the money—before I left to go yachting I said to him "We shall have to get rid of some of these spare hurdles," but those were not the hurdles in question, they were a large mass of hurdles put up in a heap—I pointed to them and said "These hurdles"—I spoke as I do now, and he heard me—when he sold the hurdles three years ago I directly instructed and authorised him to do so, and I gave a receipt to the person who bought them—I never pointed out to him for sale those hurdles which had been used to lay out Park Crescent—the hurdles I pointed out were some that had been taken up and piled up, and others put down of a better manufacture.
COURT. Q. When you came back were those hurdles there? A. Yes; and they are there now; I should not expect them to be sold until I knew the price he could get for them; he is not deaf.
The Prisoners' statement before the Magistrate. Lane says "I should like to have it settled here." Styles says "I do not wish to say anything." Stradling says "I leave the matter to my solicitor."
THE COURT considered there was no case against
STYLES. NOT GUILTY .
COURT to J. J. STAINTON. Q. Do you know anything about this boringrod? A. Yes, it belongs to Mr. Major, a builder, who had been employed to sink a well on my premises—the summer-house was not to be pulled down; it was solid; the balusters were iron, and were wrenched away—I had not given instructions for that—it was clearly wrong.
LANE.— GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
STRADLING.— GUILTY .—He received a good character.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HARRINGTON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LASMORE . I am assistant to Messrs. Meek & Paine, boot-makers, High Street, Woolwich—on 13th July the prisoner came in with her little boy, and I served her with a pair of hob-nailed boots for 6s., which she paid for—I did them up in paper, and laid them on the counter in front of her—as she was leaving the shop I missed a pair of boots from the counter—I had her stopped—she threw the boots on the floor, and I picked them up—I went for a policeman, and she was given into custody—she had the ones she bought as well.
PLEADED GUILTY* to having been before convicted in January, 1870.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Justice Hannen.
MR. HARRINGTON conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY of the attempt. — One Year's Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
629. WILLIAM SKEVINGTON (20) , PLEADED GUILTY ** to stealing a coffee-pot, the property of William Gurney; also to stealing a teapot, the property of George Warren; having been before convicted at Cranbrook in November, 1866.— Judgment Respited.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and DE MICHELE the Defence.
ELIZA SARAH ROGERS . I am eight years old, and live at 11, William's Terrace, Blue Anchor Road. Bermondsey—the prisoner is my father—he is a hair-dresser—the deceased Sarah Margaret Rogers was my mother—the family consisted of my father and mother myself and a little boy, three years old—I remember a Sunday afternoon when we went to Victoria Park together—I don't know the date, it was five or six weeks ago—we had tea before we went out—we started about 5 o'clock—we rode in an omnibus—we had some ginger-beer there that was all we had—I saw Mr. Doffy, our landlord, in the park, and walked about with him—we were all friendly together—I think it was getting on for 11 o'clock when we came away—we came back by omnibus—when we got back we went into our own to get some only had one room that was the back parlour down stairs—we all slept in that room—we had supper when We got home—I was sent out to get some vinegar; I could not get any, and my mother afterwards went and got some—before we started to go to the park, there was some quarrelling between my father and mother, because my mother's frock was dirty at the bottom—he said she ought to have washed it, she said she could not; that was all that took place—there was no further quarrelling when we came back—after supper I went to bed, before my father and mother—I slept on the floor by the side of their bed—they slept in the bed with the baby—I went to sleep—I was awoke by my mother calling out "Eliza, your father has cut my throat!"—it was then nearly daylight—I saw father lay the razor down on the table; I think it was open—my mother was lying in the bed with the baby—I don't know on which side of the bed she was lying—father was sitting down at the foot of the bed, and ran and sat on the foot I did not notice his throat—mother got out of bed, and ran and sat on the foot of the door-step—she had her chemise on; there was blood on it, and there was blood on my little brother's face and head—I did not notice anything on my father's clothes—he kept his razors in the bottom box by the door; that box could not be reached from the bed; you would have to get out of bed to get to it—before this I had once seen my father split my mother's head open; I can't tell how long ago that was—they have been rowing and
fighting before—I have heard him use threats; I think I heard him once say "I will cut your throat," or something; I don't remember how long ago that was—Mr. Doffy, and Mr. Dight the lodger, came into the room on this occasion—I did not see anything before my mother called out—I was asleep; that was the first thing that awoke me—my father was then at the foot of the bed laying the razor on the table; that was all I saw.
Cross-examined. It was about 8 o'clock when we went into the park, and we were out till about 11 o'clock walking in the park together—on our road there father and mother had two bottles of ginger-beer, and two bottles coming back—they both sat down to supper when they came home, and had their supper together—they appeared quite friendly then, and also in the park—I went to bed first, and they went to bed afterwards in the same room—father used to sleep next the wall, my little brother in the middle, and my mother on the outside—I can't remember my father putting the light out—he is a barber—he was in the habit of carrying his razor in his waistcoat pocket—I don't know where he put his waistcoat—I do not remember his being knocked down and left almost for dead.
ROBERT DOFFY . I live at 11, William's Terrace, Blue Anchor Road, Bermondsey—the prisoner and his wife lodged in my house—they occupied the back parlour on the ground floor—that was the only room—they had lodged with me about three months—the prisoner was a barber and hair-dresser—he used to work for his brother, and go out to work in the day—they had two children living with them—sometimes they would be quarrelling, at other times they would be pretty happy and comfortable—before this occasion I have been disturbed at night with their quarrelling—I slept in the back room upstairs—I got up on one occasion, and called out to him, and asked what he was making that noise and disturbing, all the house for at that time in the morning, and I would not have it—he did not make any answer—I could not hear what the quarrelling was about—on one occasion when I got up and called out to him he said it was his wife that commenced upon him, that she was always jawing at him—she made no reply to that—that was about 3 o'clock in the morning—I could not tell what the noise was about—it was a quarrel between themselves—I never learnt what it was—the prisoner was a sober man all the time he was lodging with me, and the deceased was a sober woman—on Sunday evening, 16th June, they went out—I went out before 5 o'clock—she had been at home all the morning, and he had come home to dinner—nothing had occurred during the day that I heard—I was in Victoria Park in the evening, and saw the prisoner, his wife, and the two children there—I left them in the park about 9 o'clock—I was with them there some little time—they were both sober, and seemed very friendly—I got home about 12 o'clock—they were then at home—James Stone, the brother-in-law, was at the door when I went in—the prisoner and his wife were in their room—I did not see anything more of them that night—I went to bed in the back room over the kitchen on the first floor—I heard nothing before I went to sleep—about 2.30 I heard a shriek—it was then just about breaking day—it was Mrs. Roger's voice—I got up and came half down stairs and called out "Mr. Rogers, what do you mean by disturbing the house at this time in the morning?"—I got no answer—Mrs. Rogers called out "Come and help me, I am bleeding, he has cut my throat"—she was in her room, and the door was shut—the little girl then opened the door, and came running out and said "Father has cut my mother's throat"—I saw the
prisoner standing near the fire-place undressed—the deceased came to the door in her night-dress, bleeding from the throat, and said "Oh, do help me, he has cut my throat"—I said "All right, I will," and I called Mr. Dight down—the prisoner made no remark—he was two or three yards off—I went upstairs and put on my trousers, and came down again, and then the deceased got hold of me and said "You are going to help me," and I then led her to the street door as I was going out—she sat down there and fainted on the door-step—I saw Mr. Dight take hold of the prisoner, and set him on a chair in the room—he was bleeding from the throat—I went for a constable, who came, and a doctor—I afterwards returned to the room—the prisoner was still sitting on a chair, and Mr. Dight with him—just where he was sitting the floor was smothered with blood—there was a large pool of blood, and there was blood in the bed and a few spots round the bed—Mrs. Doffy had got the boy in her arms; his clothes were all smothered with blood and his face—about an hour after, the police and the doctor came—the prisoner said to his brother "Bill, you know all about this; you have often given her drink and sent her home to beat me"—the brother said "What do you mean?" and he repeated it again—nothing more was said then—afterwards the brother went into the room again and said "What did you do it for?" and the prisoner said "You know all about it; she knifed me once before," pointing to his wrist—I think it was the left wrist—I could not see whether there was any mark there, on account of the blood—the doctor attended to them as they were taken to the hospital; the deceased on a stretcher, and the prisoner in a cab.
Cross-examined. I met them in the park, and spent some little time with them—the band was playing, and we all listened to it—they appeared to be on very good terms then—when he said to his brother "You know all about this," &c., his brother appeared to be very much astonished, and when he said "What do you mean?" the prisoner made no answer; he repeated it twice—I remember the prisoner being ill, and saying he was going to the club doctor; I believe he went to him—I don't know what was the matter with him—he said he was in a very low nervous state—he appeared to be so; he appeared very weak.
Re-examined. I don't know who the club doctor was—I forget when it was that he went to him; I did not take particular notice; it was about a month before this, I think—he attended to his business, but at that time I don't think he was doing anything—I am an umbrella frame-maker; I go out to work during the day.
GEORGE FREDERICK DIGHT . I am a waiter—I lived in the same house with the prisoner and deceased all the time they were there—my bed-room was over their room; that would be the back room first-floor—I have heard quarrelling in their room now and then—on Sunday, 16th June, I remember their going out in the afternoon—I saw nothing more of them till I was awoke about day-break by hearing cries from their room—I went down on hearing it, and passed Mr. Doffy on the stairs—the cries were "Come and help me; do come and help me," in the woman's voice—I stood on the landing and halloed down to know what they were making a disturbance for at that time in the morning?—I got no answer, and was about to go back to my room and put on my clothes, when I heard the little girl hallo out "Oh! my father has cut my mother's throat"—I then rushed down stairs and went into the room—I saw the prisoner standing by the side of the fire-place undressed, all smothered in blood all dripping off
his shirt; the blood from to his throat, which was bleeding fast—I said "whatever have you been doing?"—he said "Look here what she has done, she has cut her own throat and then cut mine"—I don't remember seeing the woman—I caught hold of him and set him down on a chair by the side of the fire-place—he was rather restless, and I had to hold his wrist, or else he would have gone out of doors—I allowed him to put on his trousers—he said "Look here what she has done, she has knifed me before," pointing to his wrist—the little girl was in the room standing pretty well opposite to him—I sent her out of the room—I did not observe any mark on his wrist; his hands were covered with blood—I saw a razor on the table by the side of the bed; quite close to it; it was shut; it was covered with blood; quite wet—this is it (produced)—there was a pool of blood Where the prisoner was standing, and I saw that the pillow was saturated with blood, and several parts of the bed—I continued with him till Mr. Moore, the doctor, came—the deceased was then removed from the door-step and placed on the bed—Mr. Moore asked her in what part of the bed she was lying?—she said the inside of to bed, close to the wall; that she had the child on her arms, and he must have secreted the razor, or else he could not have done it—the prisoner was then sitting on the chair—I did not hear him say anything to that—I saw the little boy; he was smothered in blood.
Cross-examined. The room was dark—I have known the prisoner about three months—I thought him to be a very strange man, in simple ways; if they Were quarrelling or anything, he had childish ways with him, he seemed as if you could hardly get a word out of if you spoke to him; simple in his ways—he was out in the garden one Sunday, standing right in the middle of a bed which I had been digging up, and I said to him "you will get into a row directly; look where you are standing," and he said "I did not know" in such a simple manner—he was decidedly strange in his manner—he appeared to be fond of his wife, and he would not rest till she said "Good morning" to him when he went out—I never saw anything amiss with him and the children.
Re-examined. By being childish in his ways, I meant he had such a simple way if you spoke to him; he would not bring out his words as you might do, as though he had to look at his words before he spoke them—I could understand what he said pretty well; he spoke rationally, pretty fair—there was nothing else that I noticed, except a few words when they have been quarrelling—I heard him once say that she had torn his coat up at the back—I know they did quarrel, I could hear them when I was in bed—I suppose I have heard them quarrelling four or five times, in the night—she once threw the teapot at him; I heard the teapot go down the stairs—I could not tell the particulars of that quarrel—at that time they were living in the back room over the kitchen—I go out about 8.30 in the morning, and I don't get home till about 7.30—the prisoner worked for his brother—he was able to attend to his work—after they had had a quarrel he would not leave his wife till she had bid him "Good-bye."
JOSEPH MOORE . I am a surgeon, of 9, Lindon Villas; Blue Anchor Road—on Monday morning, 17th June, I was sent for to William's Terrace—I got there about 3 o'clock—I looked at my watch when I was called up, and it then lacked a few minutes of 3 o'clock—it did not take me more than three or four minute's to get to William's Terrace—when I got there I saw the prisoner's wife sitting on the door-step—I found she had a wound in her throat, and a small stream of blood trickling from the wound—she was
in a nearly exhausted condition, leaning forward on her knee—I was told that her husband was wounded likewise, in the back parlour—I passed by her, and told the policeman to bring her after me and lay her on the bed—I think she was probably laid on the bed before I noticed the state of the bed, as I was looking at the prisoners throat—there was nothing remarkable about the room except the blood—there was blood over the bed and pillow, and blood on the floor—the prisoner was sitting on a chair with his shirt on, and his trousers just drawn over his knees—I examined his wound, and found it was only bleeding a drop or so; it was of no material consequence, so I turned my attention wholly to her—she was then on the bed—the policeman came in some time afterwards and made some observation, I don't remember what it was, and the prisoner said it was his wife done It—she replied "If I was to die this moment, it was him done it; he was kissing me just before he done it, and telling me how he loved me"—he said nothing to that—I asked her about the position she was lying in at the time—she said she lay at the back of the bed, toward the wall, and the child lay on her arm, aid if it bad not been for the child obstructing or preventing her from using her arm, she could have prevented him doing it—the prisoner's brother came in some time afterwards, and he said to the prisoner "Oh, Jim, Jim, what have you, been doing?" the prisoner said it was his wife done it—the brother said "No, Jim", or something of that sort—the prisoner pointed to his wrist and said "Did not she wound me there?"—I afterwards had them both removed to the hospital—I did not see the razor at the time—they were such wounds as might have been inflicted with a razor—the wound on the woman was a very serious wound, that on the man was a bad cut, but nothing to be apprehensive of.
Cross-examined. I have had some experience in cases of insanity—I have had under my notice a species of insanity termed homicidal mania; it is sometimes called melancholia—I have known cases of "delusion" pushed into action by an uncontrollable impulse—I believe there are cases of that character—I believe it is occasionally the case in such cases that the victim has been the person most loved by the person committing the crime—I cannot recollect an instance where it has been followed by an attempt to commit suicide; I don't remember reading of such a case—I should think a person moved by such an impulse would probably not be capable of judging between right and wrong—I don't think that a person who had been in the habit of drinking heavily, the suddenly leaving it off would promote despondency or delusion or fits of impulse; they sometimes have delirium tremens under such circumstances, but I don't know that it would be likely to lead to fits of despondency; I am not of that opinion—a person who has received a severe injury to the head is occasionally dangerous under the stimulus of liquor—a person who had suffered severe injury to the brain would be much more likely to go mad.
Re-examined. I had never seen the prisoner before to my recollection—at the time I saw him I did not form an opinion that he was out of his mind; I saw nothing to lead me to suppose so.
GEORGE DAVID DEEPING . I was house-surgeon of Guy's Hospital on 17th June—about 5.30 that morning the prisoner and his wife were brought there by a police constable—I did not see them until some hours after their admission—the assistant house-surgeon saw them first—the prisoner was pale and faint, hut perfectly conscious—he had a wound on the left side of his neck, about 3 inches long, extending from the medial line to a level with
the angle of the jaw—it was superficial—one large muscle of the neck was partially divided; it was not a wound dangerous to life—he was under my care about a week or ten days, and was discharged cured—I saw him the whole of the time he was in the hospital twice a-day and sometimes more—I saw nothing strange in his manner that struck me, but I never held any continued conversation with him except on his own case; there was nothing in his manner that struck me as remarkable—he said nothing to me as to the cause of the wound—I asked him the usual questions as to his condition, and got coherent and sensible answers—the woman was also very pale and faint when I saw her; she had a wound on the left side of the neck, about 4 in. long and about 1¼ in. deep; it wounded the internal jugular vein and exposed the external carotid artery, and several vessels of the neck were more or less divided; it was a clean cut wound and was of a dangerous character; it was precisely such a wound as a razor like this might produce—she died on 27th June, about 1.30 in the middle of the day—the cause of death was pyæmia, blood-poisoning, the consequence of the wound—she was under my attendance the whole time—on the Saturday before her death, the 22nd June, I felt it my duty to send for a Magistrate; she was then excessively weak, and had every appearance of not living many hours—the Magistrate came next morning between 12 and 1—at that time I believed her to be in a dying condition—I told her her condition, and she was perfectly conscious of it—I asked her if she was aware that she could not possibly recover; she said she was, she knew that she was dying—her husband was not present when the statement was made, because we thought his presence would only excite her and do her harm—on the Monday before her death she expressed a wish to see him, and I was present at the interview—she addressed him by name, and said "Now, Jemmy, you retract what you said, that I did it"—he made no reply—she spoke to him for five or ten minutes with regard to their past life and so forth; but I cannot recollect if they recriminated one another about the various quarrels they had had—she confessed to once having stabbed him in a fit of passion, and he pointed to his wrist—I can't remember what he said; he said very little; merely that he did not know, he did not remember, and that sort of thing—I saw a mark on his left wrist; it was in the nature of an old wound.
HENRY HOCKLEY (Policeman M 31). On the morning of 17th June I was sent for to 11, William's Terrace—I found the deceased sitting on the door-step bleeding from the throat; after the doctor came she was taken into the room—I then said to the prisoner "Who did this?"—he said "She did," pointing to his wife—she said "How can you say so? you were kissing me, and said that you loved me when you did it"—he then said "She has knifed me before"—I then took him to the hospital—I took possession of the razor at the time; it had wet blood upon it—I was in charge of the prisoner at the hospital—on Monday, 24th, he requested to see his wife, and I got permission to take him to her bedside—she said "Jemmy, I want you to retract those words that you have said, that I did it"—he made no reply to that; but he said "She has cut me before," holding up his left wrist—I saw a mark there—she said "I am a dying woman; don't let me go out of the world without retracting your words"—he made no reply to that; there was a deal of conversation, but not relating to that—I had known them for about seven years—he is a hairdresser—I had not seen him for some few months before this—I was not aware that he had left his shop—he had a little shop of his own in the Bermondsey New Road; that was given up;
another man took it—I am not able to say on what terms the prisoner and his wife lived—I have seen them at the Police Court—I had the prisoner once in custody for assaulting his wife; that was about two years or two years and a half ago—I have seen them at the station since then—she frequently charged him with assaulting her, but never appeared against him.
Cross-examined. I do not remember, of my own knowledge, his being knocked down and robbed; I believe he was—I don't know that he was severely injured in the head, only from hearsay since this case.
GEORGE HANKINSON . I am Court Keeper at the Southwark Police Court—I attended with the Police Magistrate of that Court on Monday morning, 24th June, between 12 and 1 o'clock, at Guy's Hospital, and was present with him at the deceased's bedside—he asked her certain questions, which I took down in writing; this is what I wrote—it is correct (Read: "The examination of Sarah Margaret Rogers, taken on 23rd June, at Guy's Hospital. This deponent, on her oath, saith as follows: 'I conscientiously believe that I am dying. I recollect last Monday morning. I was in bed about day-break, with my baby on my arm, on my left side, the side I am on now. I had been asleep, I was not thoroughly awake; I heard my husband saying something, I don't know what, I was too tired; I partly raised myself in bed to put the baby off my arm, when his arm came round my neck, my husband's; a violent blow, I knew it was a razor because it was so sharp; I called to my little girl "Eliza, your father has cut my throat!" and she called Mr. Doffy, the landlord, and Mr. Dight, the lodger. I struggled a little with him to protect my baby, I think; and when they, the landlord and the lodger, were coming into the room he, my husband, said "Don't go out, nobody will know anything about it." Then I got into the passage, and sat on the street door-step; I think the cold stones to my feet brought me to; and then a policeman came in; he went in and said "Detain that man." I don't know who fetched Mr. Moore of the Blue Anchor round; he came to me; he sent for somebody from this hospital, and they took me on a stretcher to the hospital. Eliza and the little boy Billy were in the room when he struck me. It poured like a pail on to my child. Between 12 and 1 o'clock, when I got into bed, he tried to choke me with his hand, thumb and finger; we had no words particular, only about my frock being dirty at the bottom; we had some words when we first went into the Victoria Park, about half-past 5 o'clock; he said I was lazy, and might have done it up; it was not dirty, I had only worn it once. We met our landlord and landlady, Mr. and Mrs. Doffy, in the park; we had two bottles of ginger beer going and coming back; he was quite sober; he had signed the pledge on 17th April, and we were just home in time to get some vinegar at the public-house. We went home and had supper comfortably together; he ate a little, and so did I; he said if he did not eat anything I should think him proud—then we both laid on the bed and went to sleep. We had no quarrel that day; he was very strange in his manner. He used to say I thought of somebody else better than I did of him. I had no thought of wrong to him; I thought there was something the matter with his mind; I thought so for some months. My brother William, some months ago, advised me to go to a Magistrate and have him put away. He had let his shop and could not get another, and I think that preyed on his mind; he used to say I got him off that; he was working for his brother and doing well I told my husband I was happier when he was
out all day. We were always quarrelling; I stabbed him once with a knife about four months ago, on his wrist, because he called me a bad name, before we left Bermondsey New Road; it was a little table knife. I said I would do anything if I could only have seven years to get, away from him, he led me such a dreadful life.' The prisoner was not present when this statement was taken—his brother was there, and he suggested one or two questions to the Magistrate."
JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON . I am surgeon to Her Majesty's Gaol of New-gate, I have been so for seventeen years—the prisoner was brought to New-gate on 2nd July last, and has remained confined there up to the present time—I am not sure that I heard the cause of the trial being postponed last Session, but I have seen him daily, and examined him—I have examined him with a view to ascertain the state of his mind—I have frequently conversed with him, and have made careful examination several times—I have had conversation with him on the subject of the charge—I observed nothing in his conduct in the gaol to lead me to believe that he was otherwise than a sane man—in my judgment he is a sane man, and has been so all the time he has been in the gaol—my conversation with him was purposely shaped so as to enable me to form a judgment upon that subject—I believe he attended to all the regulations of the gaol in the ordinary way—I never heard of any complaint to the contrary.
Cross-examined. I have had very many persons under my care, and have tested them with a view of seeing whether they were sane or insane—I have heard of many cases of persons who were under mania, and where homicide has been committed—I think usually there is delusion which prompts them to the act—delusion will urge the mind on to an act; the delusion might be jealousy, or rather jealousy might be delusion—I have known many cases where the victim has been a person who has been most tenderly loved by the party; that is very common, I think, in cases of mania—cases of that description are not unfrequently accompanied by a subsequent attempt at suicide—in cases of that description, the impulse to kill is, no doubt, sudden, instantaneous, unreflecting, and uncontrollable—I have no experience of any case where persons who have suffered from homicidal mania have subsequently appeared to be perfectly sane; I don't know that it is impossible—in the case of a person committing an act of this kind under delusion, I should not necessarily expect to find traces of previous melancholy or depression; a man may have delusion without depression—the delusions of delirium tremens are accompanied with great excitement, the very opposite of depression; there may be no outward or visible sign beyond the delusion itself—any injury to the head is likely to predispose to mischief in the brain.
Re-examined. I did not discover any delusions in any conversations with the prisoner—I endeavoured to find it out—he is not a person of particularly low spirits—he showed great emotion at times in referring to the act.
WILLIAM JOHN ROGERS (examined by MR. WILLIAMS). I am the prisoner's brother—since last November I have been in the habit of seeing him constantly—he has been very strange for a long time; I have noticed him strange in his manner for some time, in the way he used to carry on his business in the shop; he would get a customer in the shop and half shave him, and leave him to go to a public-house and get some beer, and when the man came after him, he would say "Oh, good God, I thought I had shaved you!" at another time he would put a cloth on a lad and tell him to go
and come back in a week's time to have his hair out—at one time he carried on a business of his own—he did not fail; he sold the business; he told me he was obliged to sell it on account of his wife—I did not see much of him after he parted with his business, except of a night and morning—he seemed very strange when I saw him then in my shop—about three or four months ago I advised him to separate from his wife; he said no, he would not separate from her—when he said he would not do that, I advised her to go before the Magistrate and try to get him put away in a lunatic asylum for a time—that was on account of his strange way—he always appeared to be very fond of his wife—when they have had a quarrel, he always wished to make it up, but she would not; she would sulk for a long time—I always found him a peaceable man—I never knew him any otherwise, except sometimes When he has had a little drink—about seven years ago he was stripped of his clothing in the New Kent Road, and had a severe blow on the head, and he appeared strange for some time after that—he was knocked down and robbed; two men were tried and convicted of it—after that injury to his head he used to appear very strange indeed—after this occurrence I went to the house—my brother said to me "You know all about this; you have given her drink and put her on to beat me"—I had not done so, I never was so surprised in my life when he said that—I asked him what he meant—he was always very fond of his children—there were quarrels between him and his wife—I was present at some of them; he always used to say that she was out with some other man—she would go away perhaps for three or four days together, and be appeared in a very desponding and melancholy state about it—he would never take his clothes off of a night if she was out; he would go out to find her, and he would come to my place and ask if I would go out to find her—I have heard her say to him that some man had offered to give her 25s. a week, provided she would leave him and go home with him; she told me that herself, and I have heard her say so to him, and two or three times she has said that the child was not his, but he had to keep it—she said "You could not get one like this"—in spite of all this, he appeared to be very fond of her, and tried to make the best of matters—the cut in the wrist was about six months before this.
By MR. POLAND. It was some time after last Christmas that she said that about the child not being his; that was said in the shop; he felt very agitated at it; he did not say anything to her—it was shortly after Christmas that she said some man had offered her 25s. a week—it may have been a month after—he said he suspected she had gone to some man at Hatcham—I don't know his name—he was in the shop twelve or thirteen years in Bermondsey New Road; he carried on the business of a hair-dresser and barber there up to last March—he used to drink a good deal before he took the pledge—he was not constantly drunk; he used not to drink much, but it used soon to make him tipsy—it was before he took the pledge that he half shaved the man; he had had a drop then—he told me he was obliged to sell his business on account of his wife—she would not do his washing for him or keep his towels clean—he did not appear angry with her—he said "What shall I do, Bill"? and I advised him to separate from her—after he sold his shop, he worked with me for about five weeks up to the time this occurred, from about 8.30 till 10 o'clock at night—he did not go home to his dinner—he attended to business in the ordinary way up to the Saturday—I advised him to separate on account of the way she was always going on at him; she was throwing things at him—she was on
bad terms with him; he was not so bad to her—I don't think it was his fault—I don't know that she charged him with assaulting her; she charged him with being drunk—he was strange in his manner—if he told you anything, he would tell it you three or four times over—a customer wanted shaving at the lip, and he took and shaved his whiskers right off; the customer told me of it, and said "I shan't come to your shop again; your brother is mad"—he was sober then; he was a teetotaller then—I advised his wife to get him put in a lunatic asylum on account of his strange ways and the way he was going on—I thought something serious would happen—Dr. Roberts, his club doctor, saw him.
DAVID ROBERTS . I live at 223, Great Dover Street—I know the prisoner—I have attended him on three or four occasions, two or three months before this happened—the last time he came to my surgery he was accompanied by his wife—he was then suffering from extreme exhaustion, the effects of excessive drink—I prescribed for him and reprimanded him well—his wife asked me in his presence whether I did not think he was killing himself, and I said "Rapidly"—he hardly answered—he could not open his mouth, and hesitated—he could not put his tongue out—he was suffering severely from excessive drinking; he was on the eve of delirium tremens, quite in a nervous condition.
NOT GUILTY on the ground of insanity —Ordered to be detained till Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
MESSRS. METCALFE and F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
EDWARD HARSDEN (Police Sergeant W R). At a few minutes past 3 o'clock on the morning of 28th July I was on duty in Vauxhall—I saw smoke issuing from the roof of the house 195, Upper Kennington Lane, and heard the cracking of wood—I knocked at the door, and sent for the engine and fire-escape—I knocked violently a dozen times or more—a constable came up in about two minutes—I then saw the prisoner on the roof of the house, looking over the parapet—he said "The house is on fire; send for the engines"—I told him I had done so—I asked if there was any one else in the house—he said "Yes, my father-in-law is in bed"—I said "In what part of the house?"—he said "Oh, no, I forgot; he went away into the country yesterday"—he left the roof, and got through a neighbour's trapdoor and came down—he said he wanted to get into the shop—I told him to wait until the fireman arrived, and asked why he wanted to go in, and if he had any papers or anything he thought he could save—he said "No, I have my cash-box with me, and my lease and insurance policy; I always take them to bed with me"—he had a paper parcel under his arm, with the cash-box—the fire-escape came up, and I went with the conductor to the back yard—I found fire burning under the dresser in the back kitchen on the basement—I entered the kitchen with the fireman, and, with pails of water that were handed to us by some of the police, who had then arrived, we extinguished the fire in that part—we then proceeded up stairs, but finding the heat and smoke too great, we got out of window again—the
fireman broke down the back door—we entered there, and found fire burning on the landing, outside the door leading into the shop on the ground floor—we extinguished that, and also the window-blinds on the staircase, which were burning—when the fire-engines arrived the engineer came in, and I left the premises—the two fires nearest together were, I should say, 6 ft. apart, and another 12 ft.—the fastenings of the house were quite secure, back and front, except the back window, that was unfastened, but closed—I broke open the back door, and the engineer the front door.
Cross-examined. It was 3.10, as near as I can fix it—I sprang my rattle—I went into the shop afterwards.
JOHN SHRIMPTON (Policeman L 59). About a few minutes past 3 o'clock on the morning of 28th July I heard a rattle, looked round, and saw the prisoner on the roof of 195, Upper Kennington Lane—I heard and saw the constable knocking at the door at the time; he knocked ten or twelve times while the prisoner was on the roof—he was standing still, close by the chimney-stack, with a writing-case and cash-box under his arm—I called to him twelve or fourteen times as loud as I could halloa—there was nothing but the knocking to interfere with the sound of my voice—he made no answer till I had called twelve or fourteen times; he then came and looked over the parapet—he had on a high hat, a dark coat, trousers, red necktie, tied in a knot, night shirt, and slippers.
Cross-examined. It is a three-storey house, two storeys above the shop—I was standing on the opposite side of the way—the road is rather wide—I called to him when I got close underneath the house, on the edge of the pavement—after calling twelve or fourteen times he said "Send for an engine, the house is on fire"—the fire was not a great deal in front, it was more at the back—he kept a fancy bazaar; there were toys, and the usual articles sold at such a shop—I went into the shop afterwards—I produce two laths, which I cut away from inside, by the shop door.
WILLIAM PORT . I am an engineer, attached to the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—on 28th July, about 3.20 in the morning, I went with the engine to the house in question—on arriving there the back door had been opened—I broke open the front door, and went in that way—I found a great body of fire in the back part of the shop, on the left of the front door; it was a quantity of toys and things burning in a pile, as though they had fallen down on the floor—I assisted in extinguishing it—that fire did not appear to communicate with any other fire—as soon as the fire was sufficiently extinguished I searched the house to see if there was any one in it—I found there was not, and then made my way down stairs—I found fires burning there in the floor underneath the shop—there was a fire burning under the dresser in the back kitchen; it was a quantity of material, something like rolls of paper—there had been a good body of fire there; it extended to the dresser, which was partly consumed; it had not touched the flooring—that, was quite unconnected with any other fire—I went from the back kitchen into the front—I found the flooring had been broken away, and I found a small fire in the centre along by the dresser, between the passage and the fireplace; that had been very slight; it appeared to be from the old flooring—I found about half of a newspaper, which appeared to have been forced under the flooring after it was broken away; that was about a foot from where the fire was—that was quite a distinct fire—there was no fire there then—there had also been a fire on two chairs, standing close together, in the front kitchen; that was some linen stuff, or some material which, I believe, was
used for dressing the dolls, cuttings from the dresses—there was no great quantity—that was on fire at that time in each of the chairs—that was another distinct fire—I afterwards discovered a hole in the ceiling of the kitchen—in making my way to the stairs I found another fire under the coal-cellar door—there was a small hole in the flooring, and the fire was burning in the hole, burning the flooring and the bottom of the door as well—I could not see that there was any material there, anything beyond the wood that was burning then; it was not connected with any of the other fires—I should think it was 6 ft. or 8 ft. from the kitchens—I made a further search in the shop, and found there had been another fire in the right-hand corner—it was a quantity of paper, that appeared to be used for wrapping up the goods in; but that had evidently burnt itself out—I saw the paper ashes—that was not connected with any other fire—it was quite at the opposite side of the shop from the other fire—I afterwards discovered a fire in a drawer between those two used for keeping goods in—that fire had been very slight—something may possibly have dropped in there—I found nothing else on the ground floor—I think I have now described six separate fires—there was nothing above but the heat up the staircase—after the fire was extinguished I asked the prisoner if he could give me any idea as to the cause of the fire—he said he could not—I asked if he could account for the fire in the back part of the shop—he could not do that—I pointed out the other fires, and said it looked very suspicious, there being so many separate fires—he said he could not account for it, no further than he had had the sweep, and he mentioned something about the front kitchen chimney, whether it might have been caused from that—he said a fire had occurred there in the afternoon, and he had called a neighbour in to help him put it out—he pointed out the place to me; it was close to where the fire had been in the front kitchen, near the dresser, where the hole was—there were marks of fire about the hole, and also on a part of a packing-case that was standing up by the side, leaning against the dresser—I noticed some paper put up before the front kitchen window as a blind—I asked him why it was there—he said that the servant-girl had put it up to keep the boys from looking in at her—the gas-pipe in the back kitchen was melted—the gas could not have been on, or I should have smelt it.
Cross-examined. I have been engineer to the Company about three years—I have had extensive experience as to London fires—I have examined a great many houses after fires—I know that a great many fires occur from unknown causes; I have heard of Captain Shaw's returns—this was an old house—I should say it was fifty years old; it is an old neighbourhood—there were signs of dry rot in the flooring in the front kitchen where it was broken; and I noticed a place in the back room on the top floor where there had been a leakage—the shop was a general bazaar—the paper and material for dressing dolls would be in the way of his business—I told him it looked very suspicious—I think the inspector of police said so too—I think I originated it and then spoke to others; it was the subject-matter of conversation.
JOHN HOSKINSON . I am inspector of police at Kennington Lane—I went to the house about 3.45 on the Sunday morning—I made a careful examination of the premises—in the back kitchen there had been a fire underneath the dresser; the whole of the inside of the dresser was completely burnt; the drawers were entirely consumed; the legs were partly burnt through, also the table of the dresser; a large roll of carpet that lay on the dresser
was burnt through three or four folds; there was a large quantity of what appeared to be rags and burnt paper under the dresser; on the opposite side of the kitchen there was a packing-case full of paper and wood, such as would be used in the business, portions of packing-cases broken into small pieces; there was no fire about that—in the front kitchen near the dresser opposite the windows the flooring was broken up about 6 feet in length and two feet in width—a portion of that flooring had been on fire and a portion of a packing-case that was placed edgeways was also burnt; it was leaning one edge against the dresser and one over the hole where the fire had been in the flooring; the side against the flooring was burnt—I afterwards made a further examination of the flooring, and found that it smelt very strongly of some mineral oil, which I thought to be paraffin; I produce some of the pieces, it smells now—there were two chairs on the opposite side of the room behind the door, in each of which there was an appearance of fire; one of the chairs was charred, the other did not appear to have been touched except that the paper and rags that it contained were partly consumed—near the chairs were three boxes standing containing paper and wood, the sort of boxes that dolls would be brought in and used in the business; they contained a large quantity of paper and wood—one of them contained a portion of another box that had been used for a collection of shells; the shells were on it; that was broken up—there was also a hassock filled with shavings; these were standing near the chairs, nearly touching them—there were also three pieces of packing-cases extending from the chairs into the passage, and to a door at the foot of the stairs; they were very long, about 8 or 9 feet in length, all three lying together; there had been a fire there, but it was then out; one of the boards was partly burnt—inside a closet under the stairs there was a large quantity of paper, and a portion of that door was burnt; that was all on the basement—at the shop door, the passage leading from the stairs there had been a fire; it appeared to have extended both outside and inside; it was rather a considerable fire, as if the door had been burnt through; the door was entirely gone; the materials there were dolls and toys, and there were the ashes of a considerable lot of paper and rags for dressing the dolls—the ceiling of the shop was broken through, leaving the rafters and laths exposed in two places and in the passage outside the shop; one of the holes extended right up to the door I have spoken of; that appeared to have been done recently—in the shop at the right hand corner opposite the front door there had been a fire; a large quantity of paper, folds of paper that had apparently burnt itself out; it was perfectly dry, and did not appear to have been touched with water—going up stairs the framework of the staircase window had been on fire, but I concluded that was from the heat of the fire in the passage; the banisters were very much scorched, charred in some places—I am positive there were six distinct fires that could not have communicated with each other, and in addition to those there were others which might or might not have communicated—in the second floor front room the prisoner showed me his bed, which had apparently been laid in; the trap door was open, and a child's cot was placed on end which formed a sort of ladder, and from there I got on to the roof—I found a dressing-case between the roof and the ceiling, between the two traps—during this search I spoke to the prisoner; in fact, I asked him to accompany me during my examination—I asked him what time he went to bed—he said about 12 o'clock, and he had not heard anything until he was aroused by the police springing the rattles and knocking at the door, he
then made his escape by the roof, finding the house was on fire—I asked him if there was any one else in the house at the time—he said no; his wife and children were away, having been ordered away by the doctor for their health; his father-in-law, who lived with them, was also away on a holiday, and the servant did not sleep in the house—I then told him that the circumstances were so suspicious that I should consider it my duty to take him into custody for setting fire to the house and its contents—he had a brown paper parcel with him and a cash-box—I asked him what they contained—he said the lease of his house and also the policy of insurance——this (produced) is the policy; it is for 200l. in the London and Liverpool Globe Office, dated 17th February, 1870; 150l. on stock in trade, and 50l., on furniture—he said the whole of the furniture did not belong to himself; the furniture in the room which we were then in belonged to his father-in-law, and also other furniture in the house—and he said his father-in-law was insured in some other office, but he did not know the name, for, he thought, 150l.—the prisoner had on his night-shirt, boots, and neck-tie, his hat was on the table—on a further search I found this two-quart tin can containing paraffin, in the cupboard in the front kitchen—when I told the prisoner I should charge him, he said he knew nothing about the fire; and at the station he said he could satisfactorily account for it he felt confident—he gave up a purse which contained these four duplicates of property pledged on 24th, 25th, and 26th July.
Cross-examined. The room in which he said the furniture belonged to his father-in-law, was that at the back of the shop—he said his father-in-law lodged there—the paraffin can was corked, and it contained about a quart.
THOMAS PARKER . I am a builder, of 191, Upper Kennington Lane—on Saturday afternoon, 27th July, about 3 o'clock or 3.30, I was called by the prisoner into his kitchen—I found a portion of the boarding of the kitchen on fire—I took it out—it took me four or five minutes to extinguish it—I could not see anything to account for that fire—there was no fire in the kitchen at the time—as far as I know I left the fire extinguished, and did not see any paper under the boards—I did not notice any papers or packing-cases about the kitchen—I might or might not have noticed them if they had been there—the prisoner got through my trap-door at the time of the fire—I afterwards went into the house, and the places where the fires had been were pointed out to me—I could not see any communication between them.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about eighteen months—during that time he has been a neighbour, and a most respectable man—when I was called in I used water to put out the fire—I assisted the prisoner in doing so—I noticed that some soot had fallen down the chimney—if soot be ignited and rise, it will carry fire with it—I have had experience in fires—there was a fire at the house I am now living in—it is quite possible that a fire may smoulder for a time—this is a very old house, a good deal of dry rot about it, especially in the kitchen floor.
Re-examined. There was no fire in the kitchen grate—he said there had been one that day, but not for six weeks or six months previously.
JOHN LILLEY . I am an engineer in the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—on the morning in question I went into the front kitchen, I saw some newspapers over the window, which would prevent any one from seeing down—I pulled them down—these (produced) are them.
Cross-examined. The prisoner explained at the police-court that they were put up to prevent the boys from looking down.
SARAH DAVIS . I live at 67, Broad Street, Lambeth—for about six months before this matter happened I went backwards and forwards to the prisoner's house as servant—I went between 7 and 8 o'clock in the morning, and left about 6 or 7 o'clock in the evening—his wife and two children lived in the house, and Mr. Scroby—the wife and children went away a week before the fire, and Mr. Scroby went on the Tuesday morning—on the Saturday, about 3 o'clock, the prisoner sent me to his sister's in the Camberwell Road to take a letter—I got back about 4.40—I went down into the kitchen to make the kettle boil, and then set the tea things—after tea I went down stairs, and remained there about an hour—I cleared up the kitchen—master said he would go down and see if the fire was out—he asked me when I came back from Camberwell if I had left the kitchen all right—I said "Yes"—there had been a fire while I was away—while he was down stairs I was in the back parlour to mind the shop, and I heard a noise down stairs—I called to him and asked what he was doing—he said "I am pulling up some of the boards"—after he came up he told me to go home, and I did—I did not go down into the kitchen again—when I went to Camberwell there was a fire burning in the grate, but none in the boards—when I came back there was no fire in the grate—I lighted it to make the kettle boil—it was not burning when I came up stairs to mind the shop—I let it go out, and cleared the grate before I went away—I saw no appearance of fire then—there was a packing-case standing up in a corner against the fire-place—it was not against the dresser—there were no laths pulled down in the ceiling in the kitchen or in the shop—I did not notice—there was a packing-case standing against the window in the front kitchen, not against the hole where the boards had been pulled up or leaning against the dresser—I did not notice any packing-cases or strips of cases standing against the chairs or leading from the front kitchen to the cellar-door—the chairs were all four against the window—there were no boxes or papers standing against the window—Inspector Hoskinson afterwards showed me the places in the ceiling in the shop—I had not noticed those before—I don't think they were there before I went away—the prisoner used gas and paraffin caudles—he did not use a paraffin lamp—I did not know that there was any paraffin in the house—I did not put up any newspapers in the kitchen window—master told me he was going to put some up so that the children should not look in—I did not ask to have them put there, and did not notice whether they were there when left.
Cross-examined. I had spoken to my master about the people looking in—he did not put up the papers then; I suppose he did afterwards, but I did not notice—there were packing-cases in the kitchen—I don't know what they contained—I used bundles of wood to light the fire—they were kept in the back kitchen in a corner against the fire-place—the packing-cases were not cut up for fire-wood—I did not chop any up—I used some wood that was different from the bundles—there was a dresser in each kitchen—paper and other materials were kept under the dresser in the back kitchen for the purpose of lighting the fire—the mistress was ill, and went away the week before with the children—the doctor came to see her—the father-in-law had not a lamp—he attended to himself, I did not wait upon him—the shop was open when I went away between 7 and 8 o'clock
—there were a good many toys in the shop—the dolls were sometimes dressed in the house.
JOHN GARRETT . I am assistant to Mr. Ball, pawnbroker, in Camberwell New Road—on 24th July last a new dressing-case was pledged with us for 12s. by the prisoner, and next day a suit of clothes for 15s., and a jacket for 6s., in the name of Rankin—he said he was a waiter out of a situation, and he wanted the money to send to his wife, who was ill in the country.
Cross-examined. Persons who pledge very seldom give their right names.
FREDERICK CUMBERLAND . I am assistant to Mr. Nutt, pawnbroker, of Wandsworth Road—on 26th July last some shirts and other things were pledged with me for 25s. by the prisoner, in the name of John Scroby.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate was read as follows: "In the afternoon I found a fire in the kitchen-floor, which is a very rotten floor, having at least a dozen holes besides the hole which Mr. Parker saw where the fire had been. The boards leading from the one where the fire was to the door where the Inspector has mentioned seeing the paper, is one mass of dry rot; it extends to nearly the whole of the kitchen. After Mr. Barker left, I pulled up the two boards, so as to be perfectly safe with fire, and I saw no traces of it. I poured four buckets of water; I also moved the packing-cases from where they had been standing two months, and put them up against the wall, further from the fire, so that they might be out of the way in case the fire should smoulder and light again. I did this before the servant went home. I also moved some of a collection of shells to a chair, and covered them with newspaper to keep the dust from them. A parcel of cuttings of dolls' dresses were in the chair adjoining, they were placed against the wall farthest from the fire-place, a bare wall I put a sheet of newspaper across the window, because the girl had complained to me of boys looking down into the kitchen. I must have left one piece of board standing against the dresser. I saw nothing more of the fire till I heard a knocking at the door. I jumped out of bed and smelled smoke. I went down in my night shirt to my father-in-law's bed-room to awake him, but as I entered the room I recollected that he was not there. I took his writing-case and ran up to the top. I knew I could not get out at the window. I took my lease out of the drawer and my cash-box, intending to throw them out of window. I got out at the roof, and got some of the things out, but the smoke came up so strong I could not get them all. I called out 'Fire! Police!' Before this I had heard the rattle. I hastened to the parapet. Mr. Parker called to me, and I got through his trap-door. While I was waiting on the roof I put on my coat and my socks. I went to the back of the house and saw the blind was on fire, and as soon as I could get in I went into the shop with my cash-box. I went to bed at half-past 12 o'clock. We have never used paraffin since I have been in the house. I wish to add I was on the roof after I had called 'Fire! about ten minutes, during which time I put on my clothes."
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Justice Quain.
JAMES WALSH . I am a labourer, and live at 11, Suffolk Court, Harrow Street, St. George's, Southwark—on Saturday night, or Sunday morning, 2nd June, between half-past 12 and 1 o'clock, I was up stairs in my own room, my wife came down as I went up—we had had a quarrel previous to that, between 8 and 9 o'clock—when my wife went down between 12 and 1 o'clock she sat on the staircase at the foot—she was alluding to some conversation regarding another woman, not the prisoner—I put my head out of window and saw the prisoner come down the court—she had no bonnet on—she passed my door, and returned back and said to my wife "Mrs. Walsh, are you alluding your conversation to me?"—she said "Yes, Mrs. Green; if the cap fits you, you can wear it"—the prisoner said "You dirty old dusthole ranger, I think myself superior to you"—that was because my wife works at a dust heap—with that I could not swear whether the prisoner came in or my wife went out, but as I stooped down I saw my wife take hold of Mrs. Green round the body; Mrs. Green up with her hand and struck my wife a blow with her fist, my wife fell back, and brought Mrs. Green down with her, on the top of her—I put on my boots and ran down stairs, and met my wife coming back from Mrs. Green's door, and as I met her she lay down along the wall of the next house—I went up to the prisoner's house, and met her in charge of a constable—I said "I charge you with assaulting my wife"—she made no reply—she was taken to the station, and my wife Was taken to the hospital—she was covered all over with blood—the doctor attended to her, and I brought her back the same evening—her wounds were dressed, and I led her home—she did not get better, and went to the hospital again on the same Sunday afternoon—she did not stay there—on the Tuesday she got worse, and died on Saturday, 6th July, but she said she would forgive Mrs. Green—I called in a doctor on the Friday—she dressed the wound herself—it was on the left temple, about three quarters of an inch long—it continued running; part of it healed, but the other part kept discharging—my wife had not been injured by any one else—in the afternoon she was not sober, and I shoved her down the court, and she fell down; I put my foot like that, and she fell against the window ledge, and the back of her head got scraped against it—I am quite sure she fell on her back—she was taken up by her own brother, and one of the witnesses brought her up stairs—the skin was a little scraped at the back—the doctor examined that at the hospital, and said it was of no avail.
Cross-examined. I had quarrelled with my wife on occasions; not to any extent—I had to bring her to order—I did not do that by knocking her about—I was not drunk on this day—I did not knock her down; I shoved her with my hand—I am sure the doctor saw the wound at the back of her head; I showed it to him myself—I did not kick my wife; I only put my foot like that, to tell her to get up and go indoors—I did not use any violence—I was not having words with my wife at the time I saw Mrs. Green; it was previous to then, between 8 and 9 o'clock—I had not seen my wife after that for four hours—I had been to a beershop till 12 o'clock, and then I went up to my room—I saw the blow struck by Mrs. Green with her fist—I did not see her take up anything—she might have got it up before I came down—I saw the whole transaction from the window—my daughter was down stairs—I saw her when I went down, after my wife had
been struck—there was a little blood from the wound at the back of my wife's head, which I caused in the afternoon; but from this wound in the forehead she was covered all over—she kept on her work from 2nd June to 2nd July, but not so carefully as she did previously—I am not aware of any quarrel between those dates—I was at the Gladstone Arms on the Monday following the blow, with my wife and Jerry Driscoll—we were not all three quarrelling there—I and Driscoll had a few words, and wanted to fight; it was all over in three minutes—my wife had nothing to do with it—she was not drinking there; she might have had a glass of beer—I have not had any conversation with my daughter about the case—I did not knock my wife down flat on the ground on this afternoon, and use my foot to her three distinct times—I don't know a Mr. Butcher or Mrs. Martin—I know that man (Butcher), but not by name—my wife did not rush out against Mrs. Green and tread on her dress, nor did they both trip up and fall on the ground—my wife was in liquor between 8 and 9 o'clock, but at this time she was sober.
JULIA WALSH . I am the daughter of the last witness—on 2nd June, between 12 and 1 o'clock in the morning, I was standing in the passage, just at the step of the door, with my mother, outside the house—I was asking my mother for a half-penny—she called me a little b—h—the prisoner was coining down the court at the time, and she said "Mrs. Walsh, are you alluding to me?"—my mother said "If the cap fits you, wear it"—she said to my mother "Go on, you dirty dusthole-ranger"—my mother said "If I am a dirty dusthole-ranger, you are very glad to burn my hard sweat," meaning the cinders she brought home from the dust-yard, and which Mrs. Green used to burn—Mrs. Green then runs to the gutter, and picks up a stone—I partly guess it was a stone, because there is nothing there but stones—against Mrs. Green's gate there is a pile of bricks, but she did not go so far as that—eye had the stone in her right hand and she hit my mother on the left side of her forehead, and said "Take that, you dirty dusthole-ranger"—my mother fell, and Mrs. Green fell on the top of her—I did not see Mrs. Green do anything else to her—she ran into her passage—my mother's face was covered all over with blood—they had a struggle on the ground—I partly think when Mrs. Green was on the top of my mother, that she was trying to use her fist again at my mother—I saw my father up stairs, looking out of the window—he put on his boots and came down, and ran for a constable—I ran for one, but could not see one—I was living in the house with my mother till she died—there was a little scratch on the back of her head; not much—I was present when that was done, between 7 and 8 o'clock—my father shoved her; she fell down, and her head knocked against Mrs. Maddigan's window-ledge—she fell on her back—I did not see my father do anything while she was on the ground—Mrs. Mitchell lifted her up, and there was a little scratch at the back of her bead; it bled, but not much—when Mrs. Green struck her there was such a lot of blood that mother was covered with it; it was on the face.
Cross-examined. I had not been up stairs asleep in my clothes before this—I said so before the Magistrate, but the Magistrate took me rather too quick—he asked me the question, and I said "Yes"—I said that I was awoke by hearing my father call—that is not true—I swore it before the Magistrate, but he took me so quick—I saw the blow struck. I was near my mother at the time—I saw my father up at the window—he could not see me, because he was in such a hurry, and I was inside the step of the
door—my mother was standing in the court—when the blow was given I was in the court—I said before the Magistrate "Father had not beaten mother that day; he told her to go up stairs and took her arm, and she fell over a brick and hurt her head against the window"—that is true—my father shoved her, and she fell right back, the whole force of her body—it was only a little scratch she had; there was not much blood came from it—I saw the doctor afterwards come and examine her—he looked at the wound at the top of the forehead and the one at the back of her head—I don't know how he came to examine that—mother did not say she had got a pain there—she said she had pains all over—my father was present—he did not say much—he said she and the landlady (the prisoner) had had a few words, the landlady struck her on the forehead, and that was the cause of the wound, and she had not been well since—I sow the doctor examine the front part of my mother's head, not the back—I was not there all the time—this was about five weeks after the Saturday—she had been to the hospital twice—my father did not illuse her in any way when he pushed her—he did not use his foot; he never moved it—I swear that positively.
Re-examined. I was looking at him all the time—he was standing as straight as I am—he never moved his leg or attempted to kick her—I saw Mrs. Green pick up something, before she struck my mother, from the gutter in the middle of the court—there are stones there—her hand was open when she ran to the gutter, and she picked up a stone and hit my mother with her hand shut, and they fell—they had a struggle before that, and then Mrs. Green got loose and ran to the gutter—I did not see what she had in her hand—they remained on the ground about ten or twenty minutes after the blow was struck—I halloed out and ran for a constable.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did you say before the Magistrate that when your mother was on the ground she would not let go of Mrs. Green? A. Yes, that is true; that was after the blow, while they were on the ground together—if you please, sir, my mother said on her dying bed that she forgave Mrs. Green through her children.
CHARLES DOWNES . I am a surgeon, of 13, White Street—I saw the deceased I believe on 5th July, but I am not certain—it was the Friday before her death—I was sent for; she was in bed in a semi-conscious state—the father and the girl and several more were present—from what they said I could not make out what was the matter with her—I observed some strapping on her forehead on the left side—I asked what that was—they said she had had a fall four or five weeks ago—she was suffering from some affection of the brain, but I could not tell what—they said she had also hurt the back of her head—I felt round, but could find nothing—I did not examine it carefully—I did not see her again before her death—I made a post-mortem examination—I saw a sort of ragged sore on the left side of the forehead with fluid issuing from it, mixed with gas bubbles—I used a probe—it went right into the skull for a depth of 2 1/2 inches—I found a large cavity in the brain as large as would contain a hen's egg—on removing the outer integument, I found there was a fracture of the bone of the skull—there was a hole rather larger than a good sized pea, and on removing the skull I found at the part corresponding to the hole a large cavity filled with pus and water—the actual cause of death was suppuration of the brain, caused by external violence—I could not pretend to say how long before the injury had been inflicted—I should think not within a week or a fortnight—it had not the appearance of a fresh wound; it might have been
caused on 2nd June—I did not examine the back of the head, I was not asked to do so—the body was in an extremely advanced state of decomposition—I can state that there was no wound of a serious character at the back of the head.
Cross-examined. A fall broken by the back of the head coming against the ground would be liable to produce concussion of the brain—no symptoms of concussion would remain for five weeks—she was a very stoat woman—I was not told that she bad fallen against a conical stone, not till after my examination—I was told she had fallen on a stone or on the road—I said at first that I thought the wound was caused by a fall on a conical stone—when I heard the child's evidence at the inquest, I said that accounted for it.
THOMAS ARDISS (Policeman M 150). On 2nd June, about 12.45, I was called to a disturbance in Suffolk Court, Southwark—I saw the deceased being supported by two women and bleeding very much from a wound over the left eye—I inquired who did it—she pointed to the prisoner, who was then going in the direction of her own house; and in consequence of what the deceased told me I arrested the prisoner that same night—the prisoner said she was passing Mrs. Walsh's house, and she rushed out; they had a tussle, and both fell to the ground—I took her to the station, and when the charge was read over to her, she said that the husband of Mrs. Walsh did it, and she could bring forward witnesses to prove it—I went with the deceased and her husband to the hospital—the prisoner was taken before the Magistrate next morning and discharged—the prosecutrix appeared, but declined to give evidence against her.
Cross-examined. I searched the court better than an hour afterwards for a stone; it was near daylight, and I had a lamp—the centre of the court is paved—there are loose stones at the bottom of the court close to where the prisoner lives—I could not see any that had blood upon them—there are no loose stones in the gutter.
Re-examined. There are stones outside the house where the deceased lived, some large and some small.
SARAH WALSH (re-examined). When the prisoner struck the blow, my mother fell on her back; I am sure of that—I was present when the doctor came to see her; there was only my father and me in the room—I am sure my father told him that she and the landlady had a few words, and the landlady hit her with a stone.
JAMES WALSH (re-examined). I did not tell the doctor that the wound in front was caused by a fall: I said it was caused by a row with the land lady; that the landlady and her had a few words and a fight; that was all.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I am innocent of it; I never had an angry word with her. Her husband told her what I had said, which caused her to get a drop of drink. Between 7 and 8 I heard he was beating her most unmercifully; I was fetched, but I did not go out. I had heard that he had cut her head in two places at the back, and she had gone to bed between 10 and 11. I heard she was bleeding on the bed. I came in a few minutes after 12. I was passing Mrs. Walsh's door. She called me a b—cow. I advised her to go to bed. She trod on my dress; I pulled it away; she fell, and I fell with her; two neighbours pulled us up; after that she fell again; she was picked up from there, bleeding. I walked in doors; I came out again; and Mrs. Walsh came down with the policeman, and I was taken into custody."
The Prisoner received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. HOLLINGS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
GUILTY of the attempt. — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment, with Hard Labour .
MR. CURRIE conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. M. WILLIAMS and MOODY the Defence.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WHITELEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LANGTON . I live at 19, Ryan Place, Poplar, and am a seaman—on the night of 31st July, just after 11 o'clock, I went into a public-house at the corner of Blackman Street to have a glass of ale—I was a little bit elevated; I had had a glass or two, but I knew what I was about—when I got outside I saw the prisoner standing with two more men—I went up and asked him the way to London Bridge—he said he would show me—he took hold of my arm—I said "There is a lot of girls about here"—he said "Yes; will you have one?"—I said "I don't care"—he went down the Borough with me as far as Red Cross Square, took me about a dozen yards up a passage, got hold of me by the throat, put his hand into my trousers pocket and took out my purse and money—I had a struggle with him for about two minutes; he was too strong for me, I bad to let go—he tried to throw me several times—I lost my cap—I got to the top of the court and saw a policeman coming up—the prisoner ran away—I told the constable I had lost my cap and had been robbed—he came down the passage with me, put his light on and found my cap—I am sure my money was safe when I came out of the public-house, and I am sure the prisoner was the man that took it.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not know where you were taking me to—I am a stranger about there—I had 7s. 6d. when I left home about 8 o'clock—I had only spent a half-crown—I had a friend with me, but I lost him in the Borough—I was not intoxicated; I was a little the worse for liquor—I could walk straight—I struggled with you, but was overcome—you had me by the throat, and I could not speak.
JAMES WILLIAM LUTLEY . I am barman at the Red Cross, High Street, Borough—on the night of 31st July I saw the prisoner—he had the prosecutor by the throat in the passage—there were five or six people there—I tried to run up to his rescue, but I was stopped—they said "Let them have a fair fight," but I could see it was no fight—I ran through the bar to get through the side door, and I was blocked again there—I then ran out to get a policeman—I met M 134—I saw them all running away—the prisoner was the first of them—I can swear he is the man—I saw the prosecutor without his cap.
Cross-examined. You had him about eleven yards up the court—you were under a lamp, between two lamps—I did not tee you rob the man—I saw you have him by the throat—the court was so full people passing
might not have seen you—I knew what the game was, and tried to get up to rescue him.
WALTER COLLINGHAM (Policeman M 124). I saw the prosecutor with his cap off—I afterwards found it in the court—I took the prisoner into custody the next night at the Red Cross public-house from the last witness's description.
Cross-examined. When I went in and asked for your name you got up directly, and asked what I wanted you for—I said "For robbing a man in Red Cross Court," and you said you went up there to have a fair fight, and you did not rob him at all.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "On Wednesday evening, between 11.30 and 12 o'clock, I was in High Street, Borough. The prosecutor came and asked me if I could find him a girl. I pointed out one. He said he bad not any money to give me a pot of beer, and he wanted the girl to trust him till he got a pay-note."
The prisoner in his defence repeated this statement.
GUILTY .—He also
PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction at the Mansion House on 3rd March, 1871, in the name of Thomas Green, Two other summary convictions were proved against him.— Twenty-five Lashes with the Cat and Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
JOHN TURNER . I am a carter to Mr. John Fairer, a woolstapler, at Barking, Essex—on the afternoon of 20th July I was with my trolly and six bales of wool—two I had brought from Devitt's and four from Gooch and Cousens'—I left my trolly in the yard at Aldgate, where I loaded, and went up into the warehouse to sign—I was away about ten minutes—when I came down the trolly and horse and everything was gone—some man had spoken to me before—I bought a pipe of him, and had some beer with him—directly I missed the cart, I went for a policeman—the cart was found the same night, but the wool not till some time afterwards.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner on that afternoon.
GEORGE HENRY DAWSON . I am delivery foreman to Messrs. Devitt & Co.—I remember delivering some wool to Mr. Farcer's carman—the bales were marked "G. W." with an "8" under it in a triangle—this (produced) is one of the bales.
Cross-examined. I have seen the two bales, and identified them by the marks and numbers "164" and "5."
THOMAS PRESTAGE . I am warehouseman to Messrs. Gooch and Cousens—on 20th July I delivered four bales of wool to Mr. Farrer's carman, marked "D. S. 1 to 4"—I have since identified them—this (produced) is one of them—they contained from 2 1/2 to 3 cwt. each—I called up the carman to come and sign for them.
THOMAS PHELAN (Detective Officer L). On 22nd July I went to a little cottage in Paul's Yard, Little Hunter Street, Kent Street, Borough, and knocked at the door—it was opened by the prisoner—he said "What do you want?"—I said "I want to speak to you, please"—he said "I don't want
to speak to you," and slammed the door in my face—I waited about for two or three minutes, and the prisoner and another man came out—I caught hold of him, and said I wanted to search his stable—he said "What for?"—I said "There has been a little dog lost; I want to see if it is there"—he said "You want no little dog; I know what you want; I am put away, Rit Taylor has done it"—we got the key of the stable door, and I went in and found the wool there in the bags produced.
RICHARD PARKES (Detective L). I went with Phelan to the prisoner's House—I got the key of the stable and searched it, and found four bales of wool, and in the loft above, eleven sacks and two empty bale bags, which had had wool in them—the marks corresponded with those of which I had received information—these are the bags—four were perfect and two broken up and put in small bags.
Cross-examined. He is a licensed hawker, and uses a horse and cart.
Witnesses for the Defence.
THOMAS DICKENSON . I am fourteen years old, and am the prisoner's brother—I live with him at 8, Paul's Yard, Little Hunter Street—on a Saturday evening in last July I recollect some men bringing some wool to my brother's stable—he was out at the time—he went out about 7 o'clock and came back about 9.30—they put some in the loft and some in the stable, against the horse—they said if I let it be there till Monday morning they would give me 5s.—I locked it up—I told my brother about it—he was taken into custody on Monday morning—when he saw the wool he gave me a good hiding for it when he came home.
Cross-examined. The stable is only used for horses and what my brother bought—I never saw the man before that brought the wool—I should know them again if I saw them—I always have the key of the stable, my brother never has it—I never took in goods before—I was once in custody—I believe I picked up a little dog—I did not know better; I thought no one would notice it—I was not punished; I was discharged.
JOHN BROWN . I am a rope and twine spinner, of 13, St. George's New Town, Southwark—I work for Mr. Lowther—I know the prisoner—I saw him on 20th July, about two or three minutes past 7 o'clock at night, at the King's Arms, and stopped with him till past 9 o'clock.
GUILTY .—He also
PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction at this Court, in October, 1867. Seven other convictions were alleged against him— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
HENRY GOODCHILD (Policeman P 466). The prisoner was given into my custody on 30th July for marrying Ida Loder, his former wife, Charlotte Tipping, being then and now alive—he said "Very well, I will go with you,
but I shall deny that the first marriage Was legal"—I received this certificate (produced) from Charlotte Tipping.
EDWARD BATT . I am a cashier, and live in Denmark Terrace, Cold Harbour Lane, Camberwell—I was present at a marriage between the prisoner and Ida Louisa Loder, at the Registrar's Office, Blackfriars Road, I think about 2nd December—I was at his house on one occasion since then.
HENRY COLTON . I was a Registrar of Marriages for the Charlton District—I was present at a marriage between the prisoner and Charlotte Tipping, at my office, on 16th January, 1866—this is a copy of the certificate.
MR. RIBTON, for the Defence, called
THOMAS HUDSON . I live at Bradford, Yorkshire—I know the prisoner—he is a joiner—I was present at his marriage with Mary Wilkins, at Bradford, on 15th October, 1853—this is a copy of the certificate (produced)—I think she died about four years ago—she was living about 200 yds. from me at the time, in 1868—this (produced) purports to be a certificate of her death—she passed by the name of Mary Barker after her marriage.
MR. RIBTON submitted that, having proved this marriage, and established that the wife was living at the time of the marriage with Tipping, in 1866, that marriage was void, and therefore the prisoner could not be convicted of bigamy in marrying Loder, as alleged in the first count, Watkins, the first wife, being then dead; and as to the second count, he contended that it was bad for uncertainty.
GUILTY on the Second Count —The prisoner's brother stated that Tipping was aware at the time she married the prisoner that his first wife was living. Tipping denied this, and alleged that the prisoner had ill-used and deserted her and her children on several occasions— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COLLINS and HARRINGTON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM OWEN . I keep the Green Man, Princes Street, Bear Lane—I know the prisoner by seeing him in my house two or three times before—I went into the house on 27th June—on 5th August, between 12 and 1 o'clock, I served the prisoner with a glass of beer, which came to 2d.—he gave me a bad shilling, and I gave him a 6d. and a 4d. piece—he remained a quarter of an hour after that—the shilling looked heavy, and as I had taken a bad shilling on the Saturday it raised my suspicions, and I kept it by itself—on Tuesday, the 6th, he came again for a glass of ale, and gave me a bad florin—I gave him the change—he picked it up, and was out in a moment, without time for me to apprehend him—I did not put the florin into the till—I sent my potman after the prisoner, but as he could not find him I went out myself, ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after he had left—he accosted me on my way to the station, and said "Good evening, landlord; it is the first time I have seen you out; what are you going to stand?"—knowing the bad character of the neighbourhood I thought I had better do so, and we went into the Oak Tavern, where I stood him a glass of ale, and left him there—I gave information at the station to Lamming, and he was taken from my description—I produce the shilling and florin.
Prisoner. Q. When I went into your house on the Monday did not I put down 1d. for a glass of ale, and did not somebody say "Make it a pint,
and give me half;" and did not I then order a pint, and put down a shilling? A. No, at the time you put down the shilling you asked for some ale, but you had had refreshment before that, for which you paid with coppers—you were in the house an hour—you did not go into the tap-room; you looked in—no gentleman asked me for change for a half-crown when I changed your florin—nobody was there but you at the time.
JAMES ROSSER . I am potman and waiter, and saw the prisoner there on 3rd August, and again on 5th August—on Tuesday, the 6th, he came again, and after he had gone my master spoke to me, and I went outside, but could not see the prisoner.
Prisoner. Q. When you came out was not I standing by the railway arch, speaking to two females? A. I never saw you—I did not say to you "You are right now."
HENRY LAMMING (Detective Officer L). I received information, and took the prisoner at the Crown coffee-shop, Blackfriars Road, and charged him with passing bad money at the Green Man—he said "When?"—I said "Last week"—he said "That remains to be proved"—I found 6s. 6d. on him in good money—the potman identified him, and Mr. Owen gave me these two bad coins.
Prisoner's Defence. On 5th August I had a pint of beer, and was in his house all day. On Tuesday evening I had some beer, and changed a florin. The potman came out, and spoke to me, and half an hour afterwards the governor came out, and said "Good evening; have a glass?" I said "Yes," and he gave me one, and bade me good night. I was at work all Wednesday, and was not in his house at all, and on Thursday I was arrested.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLLINS and HARRINGTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LILLY the Defence.
EMMA HANWELL . I am the wife of George Hanwell, of Meeting-house Lane, Peckham, beer-seller—on Wednesday evening, 10th July, the prisoners came in together—Crane called for a pint of 6d. ale, and gave me a florin—they drank the beer, and went out—I went to the till again, and found the florin was bad—there was no other florin there—I took it out, and put it in my purse—on 11th July they came again, and Crane asked for a pint of 4d. ale—my husband served them—I knew them again, and ran forward to take their money, and saw it was a bad half-crown—I asked him how many more he had—he said "No more"—I told him they were there the night before, and passed bad money—they said they were not—I gave the coins to my husband, and tent for a constable.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLY. They were there on 10th July, about five minutes—the florin was in the till about five minutes—no one had been served in the interim—this is the Havelock Arms.
GEORGE HANWELL . On 11th July the two prisoners came in—Crane asked for a pint of 4d. ale, and put down a bad half-crown—my wife came forward, and picked it up, saying "This is the second attempt, George; they came in last night, and gave me a 2s. piece"—they made no denial—I gave them in charge with the coins.
found Crane inside and Lee outside—the landlord gave Crane in charge, and I asked them to detain him, and went out and fetched Lee in—Mrs. Hanwell said "Both these men came in last night, and passed a bad florin, but I said nothing to my husband till to-night"—Crane said that he did not know Lee; he only asked him to have a pint of beer—they said that they had not been in the house before that night, and knew nothing about the florin the night before—I have frequently seen the prisoners in company; they are companions.
Cross-examined. Lee was formerly employed for Mr. Ness in Rye Lane.
MR. COLLINS. Q. How long is it since he worked for Mr. Ness? A. Nine years—he had been doing nothing for the three weeks before he was taken.
JOHN BALDISTON (Policeman 134). I have known both the prisoners five years—I have seen them together many times within the week or ten days before they were taken—I have known them to be companions for years.
CRANE GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
LEE GUILTY .**— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLLINS and BURRINGTON conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT TURNER . I am a stove-fitter of 47, Summer Road, Peckham, and also sell ginger-beer—on 9th August, between 9 and 10 o'clock, I served the prisoner with a bottle of ginger-beer and gave him change for a florin, which I gave to my wife, and as the prisoner was going out I called to her to give it to me again, and found it was bad—I put it in my pocket, went after him, and found him in Mr. Matthews' shop, a quarter of a mile off—I marked the florin at the station and gave it to a constable—this is it (produced)—it could not have mixed with any other money—my wife had not another florin in the house.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you stop another man? A. Yes; and during the time I detained him I heard that another man was in custody—I will swear you are the man.
AMELIA MATTHEWS . I am the wife of Francis Matthews, a confectioner, 122, St. George's Road, Camberwell—on 1st August, between 9 and 10 o'clock, I served the prisoner with a 2d. cigar—he gave me a bad florin—I asked him where he got it—he said "From the Trafalgar public-house"—he walked to the door, and I told my little boy to fetch his father—the prisoner went a little way up the road, and my husband brought him back—I gave the florin to a policeman.
Prisoner. I went into this shop, but I did not know the florin was bad.
FRANCIS WILLIAM MATTHEWS . On 1st August my eldest boy called me, and I found the prisoner walking, followed by my other two boys—I said to the prisoner "What is the matter?"—he said "Your wife has accused me of passing bad money"—I said "Indeed, probably there is some mistake"—he went back with me; my wife handed me the florin, and I asked the prisoner where he got it—he said "At the Trafalgar public-house"—he protested his innocence, and said he could prove his character by a man living in the street—he ran out of the shop—I called "Stop him!" and he ran into Hayward's shop, but he was not known there—Mr. Hayward was not at home—I handed the florin back to my wife.
Prisoner. Neither Mr. not Mrs. Hayward were at home—they have known me the last ten years.
Prisoner's Defence. I have two gentlemen who can prove that I was in their company at the time, but they are not here; if you can postpone the case for a day or two I can get them—I said to them "I am going to get a 2d. cigar," and they walked on.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLLINS and HARRINGTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. H. BROWN the Defence.
SOPHIA WARE . I am a widow, of 7, Triangle, Upper Kennington Lane—on 13th July the prisoners came in and purchased two small articles, which came to 6 3/4 d. and 1 3/4 d.—each paid with a florin, which I put into the till—there was no other money there—I paid away one; and the other I sent out to the grocer by my son, who brought it back broken—this is it (produced)—on the 16th, about 12.45, the prisoners came again—Quinnell asked for a man's shirt, but did not buy it; they bought 1 3/4 d. worth of ribbon, and Wilkinson gave me a florin—I gave her the change—took it to the egg shop and got change; and about five minutes afterwards it was brought back, and it was bad—I marked it at the station.
Cross-examined. I had just given change on the 13th for a sovereign, which cleared the till—I have no doubt my son brought back the same florin from the grocers; I had not marked it—I am sure it was Quinnell who asked for the shirt.
Re-examined. Q. Whether you called her Wilkinson or Quinnell before the Magistrate, is that the girl? A. Yes.
Cross-examined. I carried it in my hand, as it was only a short distance—I had other money in my trousers pocket.
MARY JONES . I live at 13, Upper Kennington Lane—on an afternoon in July Mrs. Ware came for some eggs, and gave me a florin—I gave her the change and she left—I then found it was bad, and took it back to her—I am sure it is the same—it never left my hand.
Cross-examined. I can't say whether it was on the 13th or the 16th—I did not compare it with other money.
HENRY MULLER (Defective Officer L). On 16th July, about 2.30, I went with the prosecutrix to a chair-caner's in the Kennington Road, where the prisoners are employed, and she pointed them out and I charged them—I afterwards received another florin from Mrs. Gallier—Quinnell gave me at the station a purse containing a florin, a sixpence, two shillings, and a 4d. piece.
Cross-examined. I saw their master, and found that they were hard-working girls, as far as that place is concerned.
Re-examined. I have every reason to believe that Quinnell is living with a man who is an utterer of counterfeit coin, and who has absconded.
found a florin in paper in Quinnell's bosom—she said she would give the world if I would not give it up—I gave it to the sergeant—I only found a knife on Wilkinson.
WILKINSON— NOT GUILTY .
QUINNELL— GUILTY.— Recommended to mercy by the Jury, believing her to be the dupe of the man the lived with.—Judgment respited.
MR. WHITELEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM PRITCHARD . I live at 18, Loman Street, Southwark, and am a labourer at the Phoenix Gas Company—on 22nd July, about 12.30, I was by the Borough Market, going home—I had had a drop of drink in the early part of the evening—just as I got to the corner of the arch two men rushed out—the prisoner held me while the other rifled my pockets of my purse, 15s. 8d., and a pawn ticket, a key, and a pocket-knife—he did not hold me very tightly by my throat, but so tight that when I got my mouth open I could not shut it again—I fell against the low wall of the church, and shouted "Help!" and "Police!"—they both ran away—I ran after the other man, but could not catch him, and then ran after the prisoner—I found a policeman with the prisoner on the spot where I was robbed—I am sure he is the man—the moon shone brightly on his face as he stood in front of me—this is my key and knife (produced).
Prisoner. Q. Did you ever see me before? A. Never, to my recollection—you had a dark coat on—you held me by my throat about a minute, not more—my purse had about 8s. in it, and the rest was looser—it was the other man who robbed me—you called him by name—there were two, not three—I did not say before I went to the station that I would not swear you robbed me—I ran about thirty yards after the other man—it was nearly 12 o'clock when I got off an omnibus at the top of Lombard Street—I had come from Bow, and had a friend with me who I left at his home in King William Street—I stopped there with him a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, and went straight through to the Borough Market down the steps—I am very likely stronger than you, but when a man is held by the throat and his breath is stopped, his power is taken from him—you were in front of me, and I was looking at you all, the time you were holding me—I said at the station in my confusion, that I was robbed at 11.30, but I told you the time directly after—I said 11.30 instead of 12.30—you said "What is the time now?" and I said "1.15."
Re-examined. Two men attacked me—I said at first that there were three—the prisoner called the other man O'Connor or O'Conolly—I am sure he is the man.
SAMUEL ROBINSON (Policeman M 235). On 22nd July I was on duty at London Bridge—I heard some one shout out "Help!" in the Borough Market, and saw the prisoner run out of Wellington Place very fast—he crossed the road on the way to Snow's Fields—a man after him shouted "Stop thief!" to the sergeant, but I stopped him before he got to the sergeant—he was very short of breath—I asked him what he had been doing—he said "Nothing"—I took him back to Pritchard, who said "Policeman, that is the man who has robbed me; one of them"—I said "Where were you robbed?"—he said "Here," and picked up a pocket-knife
and a purse, and a little further on a door-key—he charged the prisoner, and I took him to the station—Pritchard said that the other man's name was O'Connor.
Prisoner. Q. How far were you away when you heard the first halloa? A. About thirty yards, and I ran after you 100 yards—I did not say on the remand that I had made a mistake, and that you were 150 yards away.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I know nothing of it. I have no knowledge of it. It was not me."
Prisoner's Defence. I was in the Borough, and a lot of men were making a row. I wanted to get away from the row, and the policeman met me and took me back, saying "I think you have done something in the Borough Market." I said "Come and see." He said to the prosecutor "Is this one of the men who robbed you?" and he said "No."
SAMUEL ROBINSON (re-examined). You did not tell me you were running away from people where you were in a row—the prosecutor said "Policeman, I am glad you have brought him; this is the man who garotted me"—he did not say "I will not sweat to him."
PLEADED GUILTY. ** Thirty lashes with the Cat, and Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. POLAND and HARRINGTON conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BRANNAN . I am an officer employed by the Mint—I live at 39, Radnor Street, St. Luke's—about 9.15 on the evening of 29th July I met the prisoner in Lambeth Walk—I pointed him out to the officers who were with me, and they took him in custody—I told him who I was, and that I had a search warrant for him; that he was suspected of dealing with counterfeit coin—I said "Where do you live?"—he said "Up there"—I said "Where?"—he said "I have got no home"—I said "I will find one"—I took him to 3, China Walk—on entering the door he requested to go to the closet—I procured a light—I saw Inspector Hoskinson remove a loose board in the floor and take out this piece of paper, which he handed to me—before I opened it the prisoner said "I know nothing of that" or "them"—I found in it nine counterfeit half sovereigns, wrapped separately in paper, as they now appear—we took the prisoner up stairs to the second-door front room—I was present when Sergeant Kenwood took from the cupboard an iron saucepan containing white metal, which had been melted, a lid of a tin containing blacking, a piece of a brush, a file, and some copper wire, some of which had been dipped in solution—I afterwards received from Rodgent his galvanic battery (produced) and this piece of wire, which has been dipped in solution—the battery is complete—I also received two bottles, one containing cyanide of silver and the other nitric acid—all those implements are used for making and colouring counterfeit coin—I also found some plaster of Paris in powder, white sand, some rosin, and a piece of antimony, which is used to increase the weight of the coin, and to give it a clear ring—the following day I accompanied the officers back to the same room, and saw one of them find under an image on the mantel-shelf these two pieces of silver, which have been in acid, and almost reduced to nothing.
Prisoner. They are not mine at all.
JOHN HOSKISSON (Police Inspector L). I was with Brannan—I took the prisoner, searched him, and found some good money on him—I afterwards went to 3, China Walk—I handed the prisoner over to Sergeant Rodgent—I went into the closet, and found under the floor nine counterfeit half-sovereigns—the prisoner said he knew nothing of them—I saw Sergeant Kenwood find the articles mentioned by Brannan in the second floor front room—I saw two heavy deal boards which fitted between the bedstead and the door so as to make it impossible to open the door—it also formed a table—the room looked like a bedroom—I showed the things to the prisoner the next morning, and asked him whether he knew anything about them—he said "Yes, I know something about them, but I know nothing about the coins.
GEORGE RODGENT (Police Sergeant L 72). On 29th July I went to 3, China Walk—after I had conveyed the prisoner to the station I went back, and in a cupboard I found the galvanic battery, a piece of metal, some wire, a pair of pincers, a file, some plaster of Paris, three bottles containing acid, and a leather pad.
HENRY INWOOD . I am landlord of 3, China Walk—the prisoner lodged in the front room, second floor—he paid 3s. 3d. a week—I have had the place since Christmas, and he was a lodger there when I had the house—he lived there with his wife.
Prisoner's Defence. I never used the things myself, and I know nothing of the half-sovereigns.
PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted of a like offence, in February, 1863.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
644. HENRY ROBERT CLARK (16) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, whilst employed in the Post Office, a post-letter containing a pillow-case and a piece of crochet work; also, a post-letter containing a pill-box and twelve pills, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General— He received a good character.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY .**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. POLAND, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence— NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 23RD SEPTEMBER, 1872.