CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIFTH SESSION, HELD MARCH 3RD, 1873.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS & SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, March 3rd, 1873, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR SYDNEY HEDLEY WATERLOW , KNT., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir JOHN MELLOR , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN , Esq., ROBERT BESLEY , Esq., Sir. SILLS JOHN GIBBONS , Bart., ANDREW LUSK , Esq., and CHARLES WHETHAM , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City (acting as Deputy-Recorder); and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
WATERLOW, MAYOR. FIFTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, March 3rd, 1873.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLET conducted the Prosecution; MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE with MR. COLLINS the Defence.
JOIN MASTERS . In August, 1871, I was in the service of Mr. Stubba—on 31st August I fetched away a horse belonging to my master from the Park Lane company's premises—I paid 2l. 10s. and received this receipt from the person to whom I paid it.
Cross-examined. The horse was not sold—it was brought away after being in livery a certain time—my master had put it there—it was taken there by one of the stablemen.
Re-examined. I could not say how long it had been at the Company's premises.
JAMES MANSBLL MOULIN . I am a medical man and live at 80, Porchester Terrace—on 28th October, 1871, I had a horse at the Park Lane Company's premises for sale—I paid 1l. 7s. to a person in their office, and got this receipt from the person to whom I paid the money.
FRANK SQUIRES . I am landlord of the City of York Tavern, York Road, King's Cross—in October, 1871, I had a horse at the Park Lane Company's premises for sale—on 31st October I paid 2l. 15s. and 2l. 16s. to the prisoner, and got a receipt which I have lost.
JOSEPH LONDON BUSCH . I am secretary to the Park Lane Company (Limited)—it was established in 1865—it is their business to receive horses on their premises, and sell them by private contract and by auction—we charge the customers the expenses of the keep, the auction fee, and advertisement—I have been in the Company's service five years—in August, 1868, the prisoner came into the service at a salary of 2l. a-week as clerk, accountant, and cashier—his salary was after increased, and, in May, 1871, there was an agreement in writing—this is it (produced)—it is signed by me on behalf of the Company and by the defendant—(By this agreement the prisoner was to be clerk and accountant at a salary of 3. a-week)—the prisoner continued in the Company's service up to July last year—in June he had a three months' notice to leave—before the notice expired he was directed not to attend at the Company's premises—when a horse is sent in there is an entry made in what we call the voucher-book—this is it—I know the prisoner's writing—this entry dated 21st August is his writing—(Read: "No. 5054 (that is the number of the voucher), 21st August, 1871,—Gentlemen, I hereby authorise you to sell for me by auction or privately, subject to conditions of sale exhibited on your premises, the following property: chestnut gelding for fifty guineas—G. Lee for S.R Stubbs, 21, Wigmore Street, Cavendish Square"—The figures 125 on this entry are I believe the office boy's—they refer to the yard-book—the entry in the yard-book on 21st August, at page 125, is the writing of John Holloway—on that entry there are the figures 86 in the prisoner's writing; that refers to the sales-book—that shows that the yardbook has been posted up into the sales-book—the entry in the sales-book is the prisoner's writing—"21st August, 1871. Stubbs, chestnut gelding"—that shows the date when the horse came in—it was the prisoner's duty to have entered in that book the date when the horse went out; that would be from the yard-book—he has omitted to do that—from the sales-book it was his duty to post up the transaction in the ledger—it is not posted up in the ledger—when he received money, it was his duty to give a receipt—this receipt of 31st August is in his handwriting—"31st August, 1871-Mr. J. R. Stubbs, for ten nights ches, g., 21., auction fees 10s.; total 2l. 10s. By cash, S. S. "'—those are the prisoners initials—he ought to have got the number of nights from the ledger; failing that he would have to refer to the yard-book—it was his duty to enter in the counterfoil of the rough cash, or paying-in book the sums he received—this sum ought to have been paid in on 2nd September—it is not entered—he paid in money on that day, as appears by his own handwriting—this 2l. 10s. ought to have been entered among them, and entered by the name of Stubbs, showing from whom he received it—he would enter in the counterfoil not the mere lump sum, but all the details—that is what we call the rough cash-book; we have a clean cash-book besides—I have looked at that and the other books, and there is no entry of the receipt of that sum—on 25th October there is an entry referring to Dr. Moulin's horse in the prisoner's writing—(Read: "25th October, 1871, 5144—Gentlemen, I hereby authorise you to sell for me by auction or privately subject to conditions of sale exhibited on your premises the following property, bay g., sixty guineas"—that is signed "Mitchell, on behalf of Mr. Moulin," with his address—the figures 151 are on that entry, referring to the folio of the yard-book—those are the junior clerk's figures—the entry at 151 of the yard-book is not in the prisoner's writing, but the figures 118 referring to the sales-book are the prisoner's figures—this entry in the sales-book is the prisoner's—"Wednesday, 25th Oct., '71, Moulin, bay g."—that shows the date when it came in—there is no date posted up when it went out, as there ought to have been from the yard-book—there is no posting up of this transaction in the ledger—the receipt in the prisoner's writing—"J. M. Moulin, Esq.; three nights, bay g., 12s.; auction fee and advertisement 15s., 1l. 7s. By cash, S. S. "By the rough cash-book payments appear to have been made by the prisoner on 31st
October—that does not include the 1l. 7s.—it ought to have been entered there under the name of Moulin—in the voucher-book en the 25th October there is an entry with reference to Mr. Squire's horse—that is not in prisoner's writing, but the number of the voucher is 5, 147—the entry in the yard-book is Hollo way's, but it has the prisoner's figures, 118, referring to the sales-book—the entry there is the prisoner's in the name of Squire, under the date of 25th October, a brown gelding—there is no entry of the date when it was taken away—there is no entry of the transaction in the ledger, and there is no entry or the receipt of the 2l. 10s. either in the rough cash-book or the other cash-book.
Cross-examined. The Company started about 1865 or 1866—I was not with it from the starting; I was appointed secretary in 1867—that involves the management of the entire concern—I do not manage the details—I have a controlling power over the whole matter—I am expected to know what is going on—the prisoner has been in the service of the Company from August, 1868—all the money would pass through his hands—I can't tell you how much would pass through his hands in the course of a year—about 25,000l. would be paid into the bank in a year—that would pass through the banker's pass-book—I can't say what amount would pass through the prisoner's hands—I can't tell within 1,000l. or 5,000l.—it would vary between 15,000l. and 25,000l.—I will swear that 80,000l. did not pass through his hands in a year, or 40,000l.—our business is slightly different from Tattersall's; we sell horses privately—our general rule is to charge auction fees, whether there is a sale or not; there may be exceptions—we charge 5s. for each horse, and 4s. a-night for the food—we charged 10s. for advertisements in Mr. Moulin's case—we advertise a number of horses at a time once a-month, and charge 10s. each—we do not give authority to any of our servants for any private disbursements of a kind which do not find its way into the Company's books—I swear that; to the best of my recollection, it is not so—there is no such understanding—there are no payments made to grooms who bring horses to our establishment for sale—I never heard of it being done—I never recognised anything of the sort—to the best of my recollection I have not heard of any moneys being paid—I have not heard of the prisoner paying moneys—this is the first time I have heard of the prisoner paying moneys to grooms—I never spoke to the prisoner about it—he never told me that he had been out of pocket through it—he may have been out of pocket in his petty cash, but if he was it was by his own fault; I never knew anything of it—I don't recollect taking the auction money on the 29th July, 1871—I did it on several days—I was once deficient 10s., or 1l., or something like that; the cashier happened to be in the auction-room on that occasion—I did not embezzle the money; it was an accident, in the hurry of business, and I had it openly charged in the books as a mistake of mine—I found it out myself—the prisoner did not find it out—I swear he did not call my attention to it—there is an entry in September, 1869; "Amount due to cashier, 8l. 6s. 10d.; the next day it was repaid him; it might have been repaid him the same day if he had made out a cheque for it—in April, 1870, there is an entry of 14l. 15s. 6d. due to cashier, and on 2nd May he gets 20l., that was an amount that he neglected to claim; that was very culpable of him, because it made the petty cash wrong; it ought to have had a balance on the other side—on 31st May, 1871, there is due to cashier, 24l. 14s. 11d., and on 3rd June he gets 40.—we did not ascertain before repaying him those sums how it
happened that he was in our debt—I don't know whether it was money that he had paid out of his own pocket; I only know it so stands in the books—the books show what those disbursements were for—there is "General expenses, 1l. 3s. 6d., brooms, railway fare on horse, 2l. 10s., policeman one day, 3s. 6d." and so on—here is an entry at page 258 in the handwriting of one of the clerks while I was secretary—"Ordered that the secretary exercise his discretion as regards the petty allowances usual in the trade on the sale and purchase of horses by private contract"—I don't quite understand that—it is dated March, 1868; I can only say that I never did exercise my discretion about it—I don't know what allowances it refers to; I don't at all understand what it means—I might have understood it at the time, but I don't now—I don't know what it alludes to in the slightest degree—petty allowances may mean bribes to grooms—I can only say that I never bribed anybody and never authorised it—I never acted upon any such instructions—I am not aware that it was left to Holloway's discretion, or the prisoner's; I never left it to them—they were certainly not sanctioned to carry out that minute—I don't know whether it was ever carried out; not by my authority—if it was carried out, I don't know that it would be by the prisoner—General Campbell was in the chair when that minute was passed—I am not aware whether he is here—he was at the Police Court—the other directors who were present were H. B. Garling, Esq., and L. N. Bonner, Esq.; they are not directors now—there were no usual Board days—I summoned them by a circular, not on my own mere motion, but on the approval of one or more directors who happened to be present—they called incidentally, and I asked them to come—if there was anything which the directors who called thought a Board was required for, I then summoned them, and I sometimes did it of my own accord—Hollo way is here—it is not true that the Board meet when I think it necessary to summon them—I have not sworn that—I heard after the prisoner left us that he started a rival establishment—I did not say at the Police Court that but for that I never would have prosecuted him.
Re-txamined. The non-entries of these sums was found out after he had left—I had the books examined—the prisoner was cashier—when horses were sold by private contract they would be paid for either by cheque or cash, the larger portion by cheque—it was the prisoner's duty to enter in the petty cash-book all the money he paid out—he was the only person entrusted with money—on the 31st of August, 1871, he had a balance of 3l. 2s. 6d. petty cash in hand, and on the 31st October 3l. 19s. 10d.—the disbursement book would show the money paid out, and the rough cash-book would show the money received.
By MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I cannot recollect, the circumstances which are entered in the books of the settlement of a claim by Mr. Smart of 122l. by the offer of a two months' acceptance, or of 9l. salary due to Holloway by a promissory note at three months—it may have happened; it was before the prisoner entered the service—our account may have been overdrawn at the bank.
By MR. POLAND. If it was overdrawn it was under a guarantee of the directors—they made arrangements with the bankers, and they were allowed to overdraw, they being personally responsible—every liability of the Company was always met—no cheque was ever returned, except on oueoccasiou, and that was owing to some mistake; it was for some 20l. or 30l.
NOT GUILTY .
GEORGE WILLIAMS . I am groom to Mr. Hardman, of Heath House, Twickenham—on the 24th of February, 1872, I paid the sum of 2l. 18s. to a clerk in the office of the Park Lane Company—I got this receipt for the money.
BURTON OSBORNE HILLIER . I live at Lansdowne House, Bayswater—Mr. Houghton is a friend of mine—I paid 12l. 6s. for him to the Park Lane Company, on the 19th of April—I received this receipt from the person to whom I paid the money.
FRANK DAVIS . I am a brewer at Plumstead—previous to the 5th of June I left at the Park Lane Company's office a 5l. note with the prisoner—my servant, George Parker, brought me this receipt on the 5th of June for 2l. 14s., and he also brought me 2l. 6s. change.
GEORGE PARKER . My master, Mr. Davis, gave me a note, and told me to call at the Park Lane Company—I went there on the 5th of June and received this receipt and 2l. 6s. in money from the prisoner—he signed the receipt—I gave the money and the receipt to my master.
JOSEPH LONDON BUSCH . I am the Secretary of this Company—the prisoner has been in the service since 1868, and the agreement of May, 1871, contains the terms on which he continued in the service—his salary was 3l. a week as clerk and accountant—I find an entry in the yard-book of a horse belonging to Mr. Hardman coming to the Company's premises on the 12th of February—the entry is in Holloway's handwriting—Holloway is here—I find the prisoner's figures, "175," on that entry referring to the sales-book—the entry at J. 75 of the sales-book is in the prisoner's writing—it was his duty to post up in the sales-book the time when the horse came in as well as when it went out—he should get those materials from the yard-book—he ought to post both in the sales-book—at 175 in the sales-book he has posted up the date when the hone came in, but he has not posted up when it went out—there is no entry in the ledger of that transaction—this receipt is in the prisoner's handwriting—"Park Lane Co., Limited, 24th Feby., '72. Chas. A. Hardman, Esq. To 12 nights, bay gelding, 2l. 8s.; auction fees, 10s.; 2l. 18s. By cash, S. S."—that is written by the prisoner—the date when the horse went out not being in the sales-book or in the ledger, he would get the materials to know what to charge from the yard-book—on the 23rd March there is an entry in the yard-book of Mr. Houghton's horse which came in, and against that entry I find the prisoner's figures 192, which have reference to the sales-book—on the 28th March there is an entry of a second horse of Mr. Houghton's coming in, and the prisoner's figures 195 are against that entry referring to the posting to the sales-book in the same way—on turning to 192 of the sales-book I find that the prisoner has posted the coming in of the horse on the 23rd of March—the next posting would be on the 31st, when it was posted at the end of the month—find that it is posted up to the end of the month at page 196, the amount being 2l. 17s.—5s. auction fee, 8 nights, 1l. 12s., and 1l. veterinary surgeon, total 2l. 17s., to be charged at the end of the month—at 195 of the sales-book the entry of Mr. Houghton's other horse is in the prisoner's writing—it is posted to Houghton, Match 28th, a chestnut mare—that was the day it came in—that is posted at the end of the month by the prisoner at 197, "Auction fee 5s. 3
nights 12s., and total amount of charges 17s.—that is posted from the sales-book by the prisoner to 86 in the ledger—at folio 206 of the sales-book I find a posting by the prisoner, "19th April, 1872, returned 2 horses, 9 nights for each horse, 3l. 12s., amount of keep 3l. 12s. carried out, and 84 the number of the folio in the ledger"—at folio 84 of the ledger I find the three sums, 2l. 17s., 17s., and 3l. 12s., posted up from the sales-book, and the folios in the sales book 196, 197, and 206 are referred to—the total amount was 7l. 6s.—on the credit side there is an entry in the prisoner's writing: "1872, July 4th, by cash, 7l. 6s."—the figures 89 are written against that referring to the cash-book, and at page 89 in the cash book 7l. 6s. is entered under the date of the 4th July—there is no entry on the 19th April, when the 12l. 6s. was received—the entry in the cash-book is "4th July, 1872, Houghton keep, 7l. 6s."—in the rough cash-book it is entered on 4th July "Houghton keep, 7l. 6s. "and that, including other sums amounting to 52l. 9s., was paid into the bank on that day—there is no entry in the rough cash-book of the receipt of that money on 19th April—the first payment in after the 19th was the 22nd April, but the 12l. 6s. was not included in that amount—this receipt is in the prisoner's writing: "H. J. Houghton, Esq, 19th April, '72, 27 nights bay mare, 5l. 8s.; 22 nights chestnut mare, 4l. 8s.; auction fees, 1l.; advertisements, 1l. 10s.: total, 12l. 6s. By cash, S. S."—out of that only 7l. 6s. is accounted for—the prisoner would get the number of nights to be charged from the yard-book—it was his duty to enter the money when he received it and pay it in with the next lot—I have had no explanation why the 7l. 6s. was entered on the 4th July instead of 12l. 6s. on 19th April—on the 25th May there is an entry in the yard-book to Mr. Davis of a horse coming in—on that entry I find the prisoner's figures 229 referring to the sales-book—the prisoner has posted up that entry at 229 in the sales-book on 25th May, the day the horse came in; at the end of the month, page 232, he has posted up the account: "Davis, 31st May, 1872, bay gelding, auction fee, 5s.; 6 nights, 1l. 4s.: total, 1l. 9s."—that is posted to the ledger 253—there is no posting on the 5th June when the horse went away—the entry at 253 of the ledger is in the prisoner's writing: "May 31. To 6 nights bay gelding, 1l. 4s.; auction fee, 5s.; making 1l. 9s."—on the other side there is an entry "5th July. By cash, 1l. 9s."—that is all that is accounted for—the ledger entry refers to 89 in the cash-book—it is entered there as the receipt of 1l. 9s. on 5th July, and also in the rough cash-book it is entered "5th July, Davis, keep, 1l. 9s."—there is no entry in the fair or rough cash-books of the receipt of 2l. 14s. on 5th June—this receipt is in the prisoner's handwriting: "5th June, '72. Francis Davis, Esq. To 11 nights bay gelding, 2l. 4s.; auction fees, 10s.: 2l. 14s. By cash, S. S."—that sum ought to have been entered on the day of its receipt, 5th June, and posted up in the ledger—there is a deficiency of 1l. 5s.—the agreement of the prisoner was to be determined at the end of three months' notice—he gave notice to leave on 21st June—that would expire on 21st September, but from something that occurred at the end of July he was desired not to come to the office—and after he left, in October, I called in an accountant to have the accounts investigated—the names of the customers all ought to appear in the ledger—if there is no entry there we should take the sales-book and trace it back to the yard-book, and then we had to find the customer, and see if he had got the receipt, and the way he had paid the money, and so on—the prisoner was summoned to answer this charge on 19th December—on 24th February
the petty cash the prisoner had in hand was 15l. 3s. 11d., on 19th April 21l. 16s. 4d., and on 5th June 13l. 19s. 10d.—all payments made by him ought to be entered in the petty cash-book, and he could always get money when he asked for it; he would present a cheque to me to get signed.
Cross-examined. There were no payments made with the full authority of the Company and with my knowledge that were expressly directed to be kept out of the books—the 5l. which appears not to have been entered was certainly not kept out of the books with my knowledge and concur-rence—payments were not made to Holloway or to the prisoner to meet expenses they had been put to in payments for grooms which have been suppressed from the accounts, not in any one instance—payments have not been made to Holloway on that account with my knowledge; never—I mean to assert that Holloway has not been paid sums of money which are not entered in any book—I am not aware of any such payments, or any orders from myself to that effect—sums were not allowed to be deducted out of payments that otherwise ought to have been made by the servants of the establishment; certainly not—not to my knowledge or by my orders—it has not occurred 30 or 40 times with Holloway, to my knowledge—I can't give you any explanation of that minute—I only tell you what I said before, that I never acted upon that minute, and had forgotten it ever existed—I have a minute directing this prosecution—Captain Durrant is the person now interested in this concern—he is not mortgagee; his father is—Captain Durrant is not the person who instituted this prosecution—I did not go with Captain Durrant to his own private solicitors—we did not go together nor meet together—Messrs. Bailey are his solicitors—I did not go to them at all, or send for them—I had a communication with them by letter—I did see them at Mr. Poland's office—that was before the case was on—we paid our liabilities out of our bank balance—if we were overdrawn at the bank it was by a guarantee of the directors—we took the sales money because it was at our banker's—I am the secretary, and I have to guard against responsibility—I can't take upon myself to order everything of that sort.
Re-examined. Not one of the customers of this Company have lost a single farthing—all the liabilities of the Company have been met—the directors found the money, and they have never received a farthing for fees during the whole time the Company has been in existence.
HORACE DURRANT . I became a director of this Company in 1866 or 1867—my father is also a director—since May last I have been managing director, giving casual attendance and supervision—the Company has always met its engagements in every way—the only persons who have suffered are the directors—the prisoner could always obtain money for petty cash if he wanted it.
Cross-examined. My father has a bill of foreclosure.
Re-examined. He has advanced money to the Company, and it is very unlikely after the foreclosure he could ever recover the money—the cus-tomers have not lost a single penny.
Witness for the Defence.
JOHN HOLLOWAY . I am in the employment of this Company, and have been so about six years—during four years of that time the prisoner has been in the Company's employ—when sales of horses take place I enter them in the order-book, and they are afterwards entered in the sales-book—the amount that the horse fetched and the commission charged would be in the
auction-book—the private sales would be entered when the cheque was paid—the amounts to be charged would be got from the day-book—I keep the day-book—that is the yard-book—I call it the day-book—I enter all the horses that come in—if it was required I was instructed to give fees to per-sons who brought horses for sale—I was instructed to do that five years ago—I was authorised by Mr. Hincks, one of the directors, I believe, with the authority of the others—I don't think I have had any conversation with Mr. Busch about it—I believe he knew about it—he must have known it from the petty cash—he knew how much petty cash was given out, and what it was given out for—it is open at the present time to give fees; it has always been paid back from the petty cash—Mr. Smith kept the petty cash—we were entitled, if a demand was made, to go to him and obtain the money from him to pay the people—I believe that would not appear in any of the books—I should think it was most likely done verbally—there was so much petty cash given out, and I have the privilege of allowing the servants money from the petty cash—I should not think that would appear in the books—that practice has continued the whole six years I have been there, and I have never had any censure passed upon me; the sums have been small, but I have always been allowed the privilege—the most I have given is 1l.—I don't know of any transaction in which 5l. was given to the groom; but it is quite possible—if a pair of valuable horses came in, and it was for the benefit of the Company, I should do so—I should consider it was within the scope of my authority—there never has been any concealment about it that I know of.
Cross-examined. I have always been on friendly terms with the prisoner, and all of them—I have always considered him a very good accountant—if I wanted any money for the servant of any customer I should go to the prisoner for it—he would have charge of the petty cash—he would hand over what I wanted, and have to account for it to the Company—I have had no difficulty in getting petty cash from him when I wanted it—I don't recollect giving any money this year to any servant or customer—I have been attending to the business of the Company all the time—last year I should think I did it half a dozen times—I may have given 5l. away alto-gether—I could swear that I gave more than 1l. away during last year—1l. was the highest I gave—I don't recollect the particular transaction—I will undertake to say I gave 1l. to one person for the sale of a horse—I don't know the date or the name—I got it from the prisoner—sometimes I give a shilling or half-a-crown, or five shillings—the prisoner never interfered with me about it—I suggested it, and then I got the amount from him—he would have to give a statement of it—it was never entered in my presence—I don't think it was ever intended to be entered—he kept his own accounts; I never knew anything about that—I can't say how much I gave away the year before last—I can't charge my memory—I don't know why it should not be entered in the petty cash—I have nothing to do with the books, only the yard-book, and I think that is correct.
He-examined. He has paid me out of his own pocket when I applied for money—the business has fallen off very much this year—I might have paid 5l. or 10l. in the course of a year; I don't think I ever exceeded that—the prisoner was always the paymaster—the small items entered in the yard-book are for expenses—here is "Ward's man for bringing a cart, 2s. 6d.," that was for the man bringing the dog-cart from Knightsbridge,
where Mr. Ward lives—we tell carts—he would hare that fee for bringing the cart—I don't know how it was the other things were not entered—I think it was the wish of the directors not to have them entered—I have nothing to do with the accounts.
J. L. BUSCH (re-called by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE). All the entries in this book are in the prisoner's handwriting; here is paid to agent 65s.—it is probable Mr. Festing, the owner of the horse, gave him orders to pay that—the horse was 65 guineas; he pockets the 65l., and the agent gets the 65s.
MR. POLAND. Q. Can you explain that in any way? 65l. is the money paid in; can you explain the 65s.? A. Perfectly; it is an order Mr. Festing has probably given to Smith to pay the agent, without referring to me in the slightest degree—he took those things upon himself—that would be paid to the agent on behalf of the customer, not out of the Company's money; we charge 1s. in the pound, but this was a private arrangement between the prisoner and the buyer.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
219. WILLIAM MORGAN (49) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image.] , to feloniously marrying Mary Elizabeth Furtado, his wife Lavinia being alive, having been before convicted in January, 1859, of bigamy.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. (It was stated that the prisoner had been nine times married.)
221. THOMAS JERHAM (19) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image.] , to stealing a purse, a pencil case, a locket, and 4s. 3d. of Alice Gadsley, from her person, having been before convicted in August, 1872.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Monday, March 3rd, 1873.
MR. CRAUPURD and MR. HORACE BROWN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HOLLINGS the Defence.
THOMAS COLLISON . I am potman at Hick's Tavern, King-street, Soho—on the 1st of February the prisoner came there and tendered me a florin for some drink—I broke it and returned it to him—he came again on the 14th for half-a-pint of stout and mild, and tendered a bad shilling—I Dent it, and told him it was the second time he had been there—I told my master, who gave him in oharge with the coin.
Cross-examined. I am the only potman—the barmaid was there—I had never seen the prisoner before—I am sure he is the same man—I broke the florin and returned it to him.
Cross-examined. He is employed as a hammerman at a blacksmith's shop in Grosvenor Mews—I have inquired into his character, and find nothing against him.
Re-examined. I hare not heard that he was convicted of larceny in 1868.
Jury to THOMAS COLLISON. When you returned the broken florin to the prisoner did he say anything? A. Yes—he said to some customers in the bar that he should have to work for two or three hours for that, but he would take pretty good care that he did not.
Prisoner. You found a good half-crown in my pocket? A. No, it was lying on the bar, and was given to me by the proprietor of the house, who represented it to be yours—the drink came to 1 1/2 d., but it is not paid for yet.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD and MR. DE MICHELB conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GLYN the Defence.
FANNY MARIAN MITCHAM . I am barmaid at the Coach and Horses, Greek Street, Soho—en the 10th of February I served the prisoner with some brandy—he gave me a good sovereign and I gave him an Australian half-sovereign and 9s. 9d. in silver—a few minutes afterwards he asked me for change for a half-sovereign, which he gave me, and I found it was light—I told him it was bad—he said that it was the same which I had given him—I said, "It is not, because I gave you an Australian half-sovereign, and if you look in your purse you will find it there"—he looked in his purse and found it—I gave the bad one to my master, and the prisoner said, "Let me look at it, anybody is likely to make a mistake"—Mr. Bendi asked him for it, and he refused to give it back.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prosecutor catch hold of him roughly by the collar, or hear the prisoner say, "If you do that I will blow your brains out"—I had gone up stairs to put my things on—he had been in an hour previously, and had something to drink—I noticed that I gave him an Australian half-sovereign, because Mrs. Bendi had been remarking upon it.
ANTONIO BENDI (through an interpreter). I keep the Coach and Horses, Greek Street, Soho—on the 10th of February, about 11.30, I saw the prisoner tender a sovereign to my barmaid, who gave him a half-sovereign and 9s. 9d.—a short time afterwards he tendered her another coin—she called me, showed me a half-sovereign, and asked me if it was good—I told the prisoner it was bad, and placed it on the counter—the prisoner took it up—I asked him to return it to me and he refused—I spoke to him in English.
FREDERICK BROOM (Policeman 190 C). I was called and found the prisoner in front of the bar—I could not understand what Mr. Bendi said, and the barmaid spoke to me—I asked the prisoner for the bad half-sovereign—he said that he had got it and should not give it up—I said that if he did not I should take him and search him—he said, "If you lay hands on me I will
blow your blasted brains out"—I was then attempting to take hold of him—he thrust his hand into his coat pocket, and as I thought he had a pistol I hit him on the side of the face and then thrust my hand into his pocket, but he had no pistol—I then asked him for the half-sovereign, and he gave it to me—I took him to the station and found on him 3l. 10s. in gold, 18s. in silver, about six pence, a watch, and two knives—among the money was this Australian half-sovereign (produced)—the gold was in a purse, and the other money in his pocket—he took the bad half-sovereign from the same pocket in which I afterwards found the small change.
Cross-examined. He had no pistol—I have told you all I found on him—he was asked his address and gave it—I went there—the house was occupied by persons whom I knew to be prostitutes—I did not catch hold of him by the neck—I am sure he said he would blow my blasted' brains out—I said so before the Magistrate, but I noticed that the word "blasted" was not put down—he was very violent—two of us had to lead him to the station.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
227. LEWIS MOSES (17) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image.] , to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences divers large quantities of velvet and cloth, from Joseph Barham and others— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
229. ARTHUR LYNN (17) , to stealing a knife, a cigar-case, and other articles; also one pair of sleeve-links, one set of shirt studs, and one writing-case, of Victor Blumberg and others, his masters; also stealing one box of compasses, the property of Herbert Gay — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. And
230. RICHARD EDWARD POWNEY (20) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image.] , to unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, the sums of 7s. 3d., 1l. 18s. 4d., 1l. 14s. 6d., 2l. 3s. 6d., and 2l. 10s. 9d., from George Martin Heard— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
JAMES CHARLES BRIGHT . I am sub-cashier at the Civil Service Co-opera-tive Stores, Monkwell Street—on 6th December, between 3 and 4 o'clock, the prisoner brought the cheque to my desk—James Davies, another cashier, was with me—with this cheque was a piece of paper, which is lost, and on it was written "Please cash this cheque, Wm. Rodgers"—William Rodgers is the secretary—on the faith of that I cashed the cheque, and handed the money, 30l., to the prisoner—I was not in the service of the association while the prisoner was there—I called Davis's attention to the circumstance.
Cross-examined. I gave him some notes—we always put down at night the numbers of the notes we have left when we pay in—I never saw the prisoner again till he was in the dock.
JAMBS DAVIS . I am a cashier in the service of the Civil Service Co-operative Stores—I was present when the prisoner came on the 6th of December, between 3 and 4 o'clock, and saw the cheque and the piece of paper pinned to it—I saw Bright cash it—I had known the prisoner by his coming to the stores, and had seen him not very long before—I knew him thoroughly well by sight—the moment he had gone Bright and I said something to each other.
Cross-examined. I never saw him again from the 6th of December until he was in custody.
WILLIAM RODGERS . I am secretary to the Civil Service Supply Associa-tion—the prisoner was in the Society's employ from July, 1869, to March 1872, except for a short period, when he was ill—about the 9th of December I received this cheque back from the bank—this "W. Rodgers" is my signature—all cheques which are payable to my order come to me before they go into the bank—this cheque came from the chief cashier with a batch of other cheques, and it was returned on the 10th by our bankers, Robarts & Co., marked "No account"—the cashier ought not to cash a cheque without authority from me; if he did so the chief cashier would report it to me—this signature, "W. Rodgers," in two places in this book is not my writing—I have seen the prisoner write, but I can scarcely say who is the writer of this cheque.
Cross-examined. Books of this kind would be used in the stores—I cannot say that this is not part of an old book used there—mine is rather a peculiar signature—I write "Rodgers" with a oapital "D" in the middle.
GEORGE COLLINS . I am a cashier in the Ludgate Hill branch of the City Bank—on the 10th of December this cheque, dated the 4th, was paid by Robarts into our bank—we have no account of W. B. York, and we wrote "No account" on it and returned it to Robarts's.
RICHARD YORK . I live at 9, Pelham Crescent, Brompton—this "Wm. B. York" on the back of the cheque is not my signature—I do not know a Mr. William B. York in Pelham Crescent—I do not keep an account at the City Bank.
WILLIAM GREEN (Detective Officer). I took the prisoner in Houndsditoh—I read the warrant to him—he said that he was some miles from the City at that date, and he could prove it—I found in his portmanteau this book (the one containing the two signatures of W. Rodgers) and 60l.
Cross-examined. He did not say that he was going abroad, and went to bid some friends good-bye.
Witness for the Defence. MARGARET MACRITGHIE. I am a widow, and live at 1, Crescent Terrace, Southampton—I keep a lodging-house—the prisoner lodged with me from November—he was there on Friday, the 6th of December—he had dinner about 1 o'clock and tea at 6.30—he was suffering from a bad cold—I know it was Friday, because I made up his account that day—I got him some brandy for his cold—I have come from Southampton to give my evidence.
Cross-examined by MR. H. BROWN. I was first spoken to about a fort-night ago by Mr. Stackpool—he is the prisoner's attorney—he did not write to me to say that he was coming, nor did I know that he was coming—he called on mo—the prisoner was employed at Mr. Bull's, the builder—
be came to me on a Friday, but I do not know the date—he went away to Lincolnshire and came home, I believe, on the Thursday before the Friday we are speaking of—I do not know where he went to—he did not say—he went away again on December 24th, and came back on the 27th—I know Mr. Bull, where he is employed—he generally paid me with silver, but sometimes in gold—he once paid me his own cheque on the Dorset Bank, Southampton—this (produced) is his account-book—I do not put the data of each day down, only the week—the brandy is the last thing down—after the prisoner left, the book was lying about, and my little girl tore it—the prisoner had his breakfast in the house when he was employed at Mr. Bull's, but not always his dinner—he left Mr. Bull's previous to the Friday I am speaking of—the brandy is not written in a different hand—it is all in my writing, but if I was called away I might write it hurriedly—it was all made out on Friday evening, the 6th of December, just after tea—I have tea about 5.30.
Re-examined. Mr. Stackpool told me he was the solicitor employed to defend the boy, and I looked for the book and found it torn—I knew nothing of the prisoner before he came to live with t me—that is all the interest I have in him.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT, Tuesday, March 4th, 1873.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution.
MR. GRIFFITHS the Defence.
Cross-examined. I saw Mr. Hart in prison—he did not tell me he had neither letters nor telegrams, neither had he seen any—he was engaged in cleaning his cell.
ST. JOHN WONTNER . I am the solicitor for the prosecution—I handed in certain documents to the Court on the trial of John Garner, William Garner, and Henry Poore, in August last—I have a list of the documents here, which I have compared with those I still have, and I can say that those which are missing, are those that were handed in—I have copies of the whole correspondence, and I have the originals that were not given in evidence—some were given in evidence and some were not—I have searched for those which were handed in and have not been able to find them—I inquired here a day or two after the trial, and they were not to be found—I inquired in the office of Mr. Avory and of the housekeeper, and I have inquired in the office several times since.
Cross-examined. Those conspirators were tried and convicted—Hart was not here then—a warrant was issued for his apprehension upon the finding of the bill—the indictment was found at the July Sessions, and the case postponed in order to find Hart, who was then at Dieppe—at the August Sessions, Hart not being apprehended, the three prisoners were tried, and about a month ago I had a letter from Mr. Vivian that Hart had written to him—that was the first we heard of him—as soon as his address was found I believe the police apprehended him—the documents which I have given
the prisoner notice to produce are not the documents which were handed in at the trial.
Re-examined. The copies which I have here were used at the last trial as correct copies.
FREDERICK EDWIN VIVIAN . I am a coal merchant at Swansea—on 11th April last I received by post a letter, of which this is a copy; it is signed "John Harvey"—(This stated, "1 have received an inquiry from my nepheu at Dieppe for best steam coal, please favour me with your lowest prices")—In reply to that I wrote, "I am in receipt of your letter of yesterday; the price of best steam is 17s.; your order shall receive attention"—I wrote on 16th April, saying that I wanted cash unless the hill was approved—I was not satisfied with the way they proposed paying me—in reply to a letter saying that I wanted to he satisfied as to the means of payment, I received a reference to Messrs. Thompson & Co., of 61, Watling Street—I wrote to them, and subsequently received a reply from them stating that John Harvey was a respectable man—I knew a firm of Thompson & Co., and I was under the impression it was the same firm, until I came here after-wards—I then agreed to ship the cargo—I thought it would be more satis-factory to have a personal interview, and I wrote to John Harvey to make arrangements for an interview—I have since ascertained that John Harvey was John Garner—this is the letter I wrote: "Telegram received: Will meet you at Herman's Hotel on Friday"—when I got to Kennan's Hotel I met a person who called himself Johnson, the brother-in-law of John Harvey—in consequence of his own conversation, and from what he said to me, I have since found out that Johnson, who represented himself to be John Harvey's brother-in-law, was, in point of fact, John Harvey, and really John Garner—there was no such man as John Harvey—we spoke of the manner of the shipment and how payment should be made—I told him I would not part with the bills of lading until I had security or the money—he regretted very much John Harvey being from home, and he produced a letter signed "John Harvey," to show that he had full authority to act for him—the day of the appointment was the 17th May—the letter stated, "Whatever arrangements you make with my brother-in-law will be binding on my part, John Harvey"—I concluded I was dealing with Johnson, and that Johnson was the brother-in-law of Harvey—after some conversation he took out a cheque for something like 130l., and said, "I have a cheque here for 130l., but it is not endorsed by John Harvey; I have no authority to give it up; I can't part with it; I will tell you what I will do; I have some good bills at home, and if you like I will let you have those as collateral security," and he subsequently wrote on a piece of paper, at my request, "I hand you the following acceptances as collateral security for cargo per Cumberland"—he signed that "John Harvey"—I expressed surprise that the writing was the same as Harvey's, and he told me that although Harvey was a most respectable man, he had had no education, and that he did all his correspondence; that it was perfectly straightforward, and I should find the whole transaction an honourable one, or words to that effect—I asked him the name of the person he wanted the coals for, and he said "John Hart, his nephew at Rouen," and I wrote the name down in the letter at the time—he said John Harvey was a respectable man, a man well off, and had heavy contracts under Government—he left me for a short time to obtain the bills he had at his house—he returned in about an hour afterwards, and handed me the acceptances, three or four in number—after
looking at them, I asked him if they were legitimate bills, and he said quite so; that they were trade bills—he said that Freeman, whose name was or one of them, was a Government contractor—one of the bills was for 178l. 12s., signed John Harvey, addressed to Mr. Henry Poore, payable at the London and County Bank, Hackney Branch; another, accepted by John Freeman, Government contractor, payable at the London and Provin-cial Bank; and the third was payable at the Bank of England—there was another bill, accepted by a man named Standing, which I received at Swansea—I took the first three to my bankers, and asked them to make inquiries before placing them to my credit—I was not satisfied with any of the bills—I wanted to see John Harvey again, and I made a second appoint-ment with him at Kennan's Hotel—I went there with Sergeant Peck, and he concealed himself—I saw a man who represented himself to be Buckley—I had some conversation with him—he regretted the absence of John Harvey, who, he said, was at Hull, and Johnson, who was at Sunderland—he said he had full authority to act—he said he was a coal merchant at Chalk Farm, and he represented Harvey to be a very respectable man, and Johnson also—we had some conversation, and the result was that I desired him to telegraph to Harvéy, and if he did not return I was to have a tele-gram from him—not receiving the telegram, and Buckley not making an appearance, I started for Dieppe that evening at 7 o'clock—I went first to the ship and saw the captain, and found there were only a few tons out of her—the same morning I went to the broker's, De la Rue, and had some conversation with him, and Hart was sent for—before that I went to Mr. Le Prate, who was the purchaser of the cargo from John Hart, and received the bills of lading and the sale-note from him—the prisoner came to Mr. De la Rue's office—this is the document that was handed to me by Le Prate, it is a sale to him by John Hart—my invoice price was 247l. 10s., and the coals were sold to Le Prate for 202l.—I showed Hart the bill of lading, and asked him what he knew about it, how he got possession of it—he said he got it from John Harvey—I said "Are you aware that that cargo is stolen?"—he said "No; I have bought the cargo of John Harvey, and the cargo is mine"—I said "I don't wish to charge you with stealing it, but I must ask you to give possession, as it was stolen"—he said "No, I shall not give possession; I cannot, because I have borrowed money on the bills of lading; I borrowed 150l. of Mr. Spratt, who is a shoemaker in Eleanor Street, Hackney Road"—I pressed him, and Mr. De la Rue pressed him, to give possession of the bills of lading—I said, "Where is John Harvey?"—he hesitated, and said he was not in Dieppe—I asked him then where John Garner was, as I had ascertained from Mr. De la Rue that he was staying at the hotel with Hart—I asked him to fetch John Garner—he went away and came back again in a few minutes, and said that John Garner had left that morning for Rouen, and he declined to give 'me the bill of lading or the possession of the cargo—I went to Hilton's Hotel at Dieppe—I asked the landlord for the visitors' book, and found the two names of John Garner and John Hart together—John Garner was in the same handwriting as that of John Harvey—I went again to the hotel about 10 o'clock, and found John Garner in bed—that was after Hart had told me he had gone to Rouen—I had some difficulty in waking him until I put a candle to his nose—I asked him whether he knew me—I called him Johnson—he hesitated for some time, and then said he did know me—I asked him if he was going to hand me over the money for the cargo—he said he could not do that—I desired him not to move
from there for twenty-four hours, thinking he would leave by the boat at night—I went on board, but did not find him there when we got to England, but he came two or three days afterwards, and he was taken into custody and tried—I left Hart behind—I afterwards received this letter from him: "25th January. Dear Sir,—I have been in London some time looking for a situation, which I am promised next month. Since obtaining the above, I have been informed that there is in the hands of the police a warrant for them to take me into custody, in connection with the coals; I can only say I am innocent, which I believe you know, although I am sorry for what I have done. I have lost all my money, and find my wife and children starving. I hope you will allow me to earn my living and Bupport my family; if not, I am willing to go before any Jury, but I hope you will spare me the trouble and disgrace. An answer will greatly oblige, J. Hart."
Cross-examined. When I arrived at Dieppe I saw Mr. De la Rue, the broker—he sent for John Hart, and he came at ones—I said, "Is your name John Hart?" and he said, "Yes"—he was asked where Garner was, and he said he had left that morning for Rouen—I told him that I believed he was John Harvey, and that he was a swindler, and that he had swindled me out of a cargo of coal—I also said I hoped he, John Hart, had nothing to do with it—Hart said he had purchased the coals of John Harvey—I dare say I said, "He is your uncle"—Hart said, "No, I have never seen him but twice before"—he said Garner was a friend of his, and was staying with him at Hilton's Hotel till that morning—I pointed out Freeman's signature to him on the bill of exchange, and said I believed it was his—he said it was not—I asked him who endorsed the bill of lading—he said John Harvey, and that he believed it was done in Dieppe—I told him I knew Garner as Johnson, and that Garner had admitted he wrote the letters as Harvey—he said he knew nothing of that, that he had purchased the cargo of Harvey, and had sold it to Messrs. Verdu and Le Prate—I told him he had sold the coals at 60l. less than they cost, and I believe he said he knew nothing of that—I then went to Hilton's Hotel, where I saw Garner in bed—Hart said he had borrowed a sum of money of Mr. Spratt, on account of the cargo, before he could get possession of the bills of lading, that was in part payment of the coal—Garner's name was not used in the matter at all; it was Harvey all the time—everything the prisoner said was apparently open, and straightforward—I went several times to Hilton's, but it was at 10 o'clock at night I found Garner in bed—it was from 8 to 10 in the morning that I saw Hart—I could not find Garner all day.
JOHN MARSDBN . I did live at Prospect Place, Cambridge Heath—I now live at Old Ford—I have seen John Garner, William Garner, and Henry Poore—I believe I have seen the prisoner in their company on one occasion—I never was in their company.
Cross-examined. The three persons whose names I have heard used to pass my house pretty well every day—I have a slight recollection of the prisoner—I don't know him—I believe I have seen him once, but I don't know where or under what circumstances—I am a traveller.
warrant for him since July—the bill was found against him in July—I told him the charge—he said nothing at the time, but at the Kingsland Road Police Station he said to the inspector on duty in my presence, "I do not know that writing my own name is forgery"—he was taken on the charge of forgery.
Cross-examined. I heard from Mr. Vivian that the last time he saw Hart was at Dieppe—inquiries were made there, but not by me.
The prisoner received a good character.— GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury en account of his good character. — Two Years' Imprisonment.
233. HENRY SCARBOROUGH (18), HENRY FULLER (18), and ARTHUR CARLTON (17), were indicted for a burglary in the dwelling-house of Samuel James Willis, at Willesden, and stealing therein two coats and other articles, his property.—Second count—For feloniously receiving the same.
SCARBOROUGH and FULLER PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
SAMUEL JAMES WILLIS . I am a grocer, and live in Park Place, Kilburn, in the Parish of Willesden—on Thursday night, 24th January, about 11. 50, I went to bed leaving everything safe and shut up, as far as I can remember—about 5 o'clock in the morning I was awoke by the constable, and came down—I found that the house had been broken into through the closet window on the ground-floor—that had been all right at night, I believe—I found the front door open; that must have been opened from the inside—there was a chair in the passage, which had been taken out of the parlour, and used in unbolting the door—I missed two overcoats, a jacket, a shawl, two scarves, a pair of trousers with four copper coins in the pocket, a pouch, a meersohaum pipe, and a shirt—I have since seen the whole of the property, with the exception of an overcoat—the value of the articles is about 6l. or 8l.
THOMAS FLEWIN (Detective). On Friday morning I went to the prose-cutor's and examined the premises—I found that there had been a burglary committed—they must have got over some gates leading from Pembroke Road into the back garden, and made an entry through the water-closet window leading into the passage; they must then have undone the side door leading into the street—I found the side door open, and footmarks, I can't say of how many persons—I apprehended a man named Dale.
WILLIAM SMITH (Detective Officer X). I know Carlton; I saw him in Crawford Street on 28th January; Fuller was with him—I apprehended Fuller on another charge, but let Carlton go then—I saw him again about an hour afterwards in the Edgware Road, and from what I was told I then apprehended him—I found in his pocket this pawnticket referring to a coat pawned for 10s. at Mr. Smith's in the Edgware Road—I told Carlton I should take him into custody for being concerned with Fuller, Scarborough, and Dale, who were in custody, for committing a burglary at 7, Park Place, Kilburn—he said "I know Fuller, I don't know nothing about the robbery"—I also found a key on him, but that was proved at the Police Court to be his own property.
Carlton's Defence. Fuller gave me the ticket; I did not know the coat was stolen. My mother was going to buy me one, and I thought it would save me the money.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, March 4, 1873.
234. EDWARD BLACKWALL (23) PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Elizabeth Harvey, and stealing therein some cakes and gingerbread her property.— Three Months' Imprison-ment.
235. JOHN DODGSON (58) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to three indictments for stealing orders for the payment of 135l. 10s., 120l. 10s., and 130l. 10s., and various other sums of John Ewart & Sons, his masters.— Eighteen Months' Imprison-ment.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Frosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence. SAMUEL SHUTER . I am a hat and cap manufacturer, of 13, Brassfield Street, Spitalfields—on Sunday, 16th February, between 11 and 12 o'clock, the prisoner, whom I knew by sight, brought me these boxes of buttons (produced)—I told him I did not use them in my business, and asked him how he became possessed of them—he said that he bought them at a sale—I did not want them, but he pressed me to buy them, and I said "You can leave them here two or three days, and give me an invoice"—he gave me this invoice (produced), but I did not pay him, as they were only left on approbation at 11s. a box—he came next day, Monday, between 12 and 1 o'clock, and said "I want the money for the buttons"—I said "Are you sure you bought them at a sale? I will pay you if you will put a receipt stamp on the bill;" which he did, and I paid him—he came again the same evening, and said "Are you open to buy eight more?"—I asked him how he got them—he said again "At a sale," and I paid him 4l. 8s. for the eight boxes—I had sold the others that morning for 16s. a box to Mr. Marks, a shirtmaker, who said that that was the market price—I sold the eight boxes for 13s. 6d. a box, to Messrs. Sherrett & Son, on the Tuesday morning.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether Mr. Marks or Messrs. Sherrett are here—I actually sold the buttons before I bought them—I told the prisoner that if I could get a shilling or two, I would buy them—Mario did not come in by accident, I sent for him—Sherretts came to me quite by accident; they are trimming sellers, and buy buttons; they are constantly at our house, they are opposite neighbours—it is not unusual in my business to buy on a Sunday; I keep my shop open till 1 o'clock.
SAMUEL COX . I am a button manufacturer of 9, Noble Street—these buttons are my property; I missed them on Monday the 17th—the average cost price is about 34s. per gross—I do not know when they left our premises, but I saw them a few days before I missed them.
CHARLES BROWN (City Detective Officer). I went to Mr. Shuter's shop by accident, and found the prisoner there; he passed me and Lanley, and went out of the shop; I spoke to Lanley, who went after him and brought him back, and Shuter said "That's the man I bought the but tons of, I gave him
11s. a box"—I said to the prisoner "How did you come into possession of these buttons?"—he said "T bought them over my counter at my shop"—I said "Where is that?"—he said "No. 12, Thomas Street, Wandsworth; I bought them of a man who came in to purchase a pair of shoes, I don't know who he was"—he said that he had no receipt—I told him I should charge him with stealing a quantity of buttons of Mr. Cox, of 9, Noble Street, and also with receiving them, knowing them to be stolen—I took him to the station, and then went with Lanley in search of Thomas Street, Wandsworth, but there is no such place.
Cross-examined. There is no such place in Wandsworth Road either.
FREDERICK LANLEY (City Detective). I was present when the Inspector took the charge—the prisoner said "I bought them at my shop over the counter, at Thomas Street, Wandsworth—he was asked if he had a receipt—he said "No, I never take receipts, neither do I ask questions of any one who brings things to my shop"—I went with Brown in search of Thomas Street, Wandsworth; there is no such place.
Cross-examined. We went all over Wandsworth and Wandsworth Road, and Vauxhall Bridge Road—it took us about three hours.
GUILTY on the Second Count.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
ISAAC DAVIES . I am a bedding manufacturer of 63, High Street, White-chapel—I know the prisoner—on 23rd January he showed me some patterns of bed-ticking at Johnson and Dimond's, and asked me if they would suit me—I said "Yes, at a low figure," because they are not often used—I asked him what he wanted for them—he said "Fourteen pence "I said "That is about it; who did they belong to before you had them"—he said "That is in confidence, I bought them of a person who wished to raise money"—I said "Have you an invoice?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Let me see it"—he said "Then I betray the confidence"—I bought 420 yards at 1s. 2d. a yard, which were delivered on 24th January—he afterwards came again, and said that there were six pieces more—I said "I shail have to keep them a number of years"—he persuaded me, and offered them at 1d. less—I bought five pieces, containing 347 yards; that was on the 28th—I paid him by cheque for the two lots, and delivered them to the officers on the 31st.
Cross-examined. I have been in business about 18 years in this line—I have known the prisoner attending sales at places where such things are sold—it is an article I should not be able to sell. a great quantity of.
HENRY RANDALL (City Detective). On Friday afternoon 31st January, I went with Brown and Lanley to Thomas Terrace, Mile End—the prisoner was then in custody—we saw his mother and searched the house—in the ground-floor front-room we found thirteen rolls of ticking, one of which is here—in some drawers in a back-room I found these two receipts—(These were dated January 21st, and January 25th, for 420 and 423 yards of ticking, bought of Edward Morrisson, 48, Packington Street, for 21l., and 21l. 3s. Signed, Paid, Edward Morrisson.)—I showed the prisoner the ticking and the receipts—he said "The ticking I bought of a man named Morri-son, who attends salerooms," and I believe that is the correct address.—I
went there, but could not find a party of that name—it is at Islington—I made every enquiry—I also went to Mr. Davis's premises, and found eleven pieces of ticking—Mr. Davis gave me every facility—this (produced) is one piece.
FREDERICK LANLEY (City Detective). On 31st January I took the prisoner, from Mr. Davis's information—I told him I was a policeman, and asked him if he had sold any ticking to Mr. Davis, who was present—he said "Yes, I sold him 11 pieces; here is a receipt which I have got for 13 pieces more, which I have at home," producing this receipt—I said "Who did you purchase them from?"—he said "From a man named Morrisson, whom I met on one or two occasions at Johnson & Dimond's sale-rooms"—I said "Where does he live?"—he said "I suppose he lives at the address on the invoice"—(Read: "48, Packington Street. Mr. F. M. Tapley. Bought of Edward Morrisson, 12 pieces of ticking, 84 yards at 1s. 42l. Edward Morrisson.")
Cross-examined. I have traced 24 pieces out of the 41 missed—I have heard that other ticking of mine has been sold in different parts of London, and have traced three more pieces to another place—they were stolen from the warehouse.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LATIMER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GLYN the Defence.
ANDREW HUMPHREY BROCKWELL . I am a carrier, of Kingston-upon-Thames—on 19th February, about 7 o'clock p. m., I was in Camomile Street, City, with a van—I went into a booking-office, came out almost directly, and saw the prisoner at the side of the van—he had hold of a chest of tea with both hands—I had seen him standing there when I went in—his leg was on the fore wheel—he dropped the box into the van again, and I collared him—he had lifted it, and another box, which wedged it up, fell down,. and it did not go back into the same place—he wanted to know what I was doing; he said that he was going to make water—he dragged me down, and dragged me further than I am from you—I called "Police!" and gave him in custody—the chest contained 28 lbs. of tea.
Cross-examined. There was only the pavement between the cart and the booking-office—this is the chest (produced)—he actually had it in his hands when I caught hold of him—he said at the station that he was making water.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor said that he did not see him remove the tea, but that he had hold of it, and saw him drop it.
COURT. Q. Did you see them struggling? A. Yes, the prosecutor was hanging to the prisoner.
GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court in June, 1865, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WEATHERFIILD conducted the Prosecution.
BENJAMIN HUGHES . I am employed by Mr. Spire—on 17th October I called at Messrs. Burns', and paid the prisoner 23l. 15s.—he gave me this receipt—I saw him write it—(This toot an invoice amounting to 23l. 15s., signed "G. Robinson, 17l. 10l. 72.")—on a subsequent day I called and paid him 13l. 1s. 6d., and received this receipt (produced), and afterwards I called and paid him 12l. 7s. 8d. and received this receipt (produced)—I gave the money into the prisoner's hand.
HENRY BURN, JUN . I am a member of the firm of Henry Burn & Son—the prisoner was our cashier—he received 2l. per week, and lived in the house—some time in November I found out that certain sums had not been accounted for—I wrote to a person, who came up, and said that he had paid money to the prisoner—I found by the books that it was so, and that the money had not been paid in—I told the prisoner that he had abused our confidence, that he was very clever at accounts, and had used his intellect to rob us—he said he was very sorry that it was so—I asked him how he had spent the money—he said "In waste and extravagance"—my father asked him to look through the ledger, and let us know how much he had not accounted for—he took the ledger, and wrote down these names and amounts—this list is in his writing—(The list included the sums charged in the indictment)—this is the day-book—it is in the prisoner's writing—there are no entries in it of these three sums—I have never received them.
Prisoner. Q. Is there any credit to Pyatt? A. Yes, 22l. 7s. 6d.—when you confessed to these embezzlements I did not tell you you could go home—I saw you pass through the shop, but I will swear you did not go home with my father's permission or my own—you had our permission, from the Wednesday evening when these defalcations were discovered, to correct your accounts, and, I believe, during that time you went into the country to your father, and remained there—my father received from you, during the following week, a security from Bromley, of Newcastle, for 116l., but that was in the form of a promissory-note—I do not know how it came—Buckler & Co. are our solicitors, with whom we placed your matter to apprehend you—this telegram (produced by the prisoner) is from them to you—I was not aware that they had sent it—they would get information where you were when we got it from your wife—I gave them no authority to send you this other telegram (produced)—your defalcations extend over twelve months, by your own admission—these are our books for Christmas, 1871—I see you have entered here what appears to be an overplus of 20l., but your money does not appear to have been received at all on that day—I did not receive it; when I receive it, I tick the book, which has not been done here—this is December 19th, 1871—I do not remember saying that that 20l. belonged to you; certainly not—if I paid in 23l. 2s. to my credit, it does not follow that it should be represented as 23l. 2s. over to yours—the cash-book is made up from the day-book, and I have the opportunity of checking it; but these figures appear to have been entered since; this 11l. odd is in entirely different ink—I do not know whether Mr. Gibbs, the other clerk, is here—the cash-book is not here—you sent me a letter to produce it, and here is the rough cash-book, which is an exact copy of it—my father told the clerk to put all the books up—(The cash-book was sent for, from which che prisoner cross-examined the witness as to the errors in
the casting-up of various turns, which he contended would reduce the amount of his deficiencies.)—you had no business to mix up your private money with this; you put money belonging to us into your pocket, and then pay it out as your private money; it is only done to confuse us—I did not consent and did not object to your going away—I did not stop you, because you and your wife were crying in the room, and it was questioned whether we should send for a detective, and lock you up at once, or allow you to remain for the night, and my father said he would give you from then, Wednesday, till Saturday, to correct your accounts—I did say that it was no satisfaction to us to punish you, nor was it because of having lost the money; punishing you would not restore it; but you are now trying to confuse us—I took some money from you—my father thought you must have money in the house—you admitted having taken about 180l., and subsequently we found it was about 300l.—you said you had no money in the house, but you took 18l. odd from your pocket, and my father said I was to take it from you—in December, 1871, there were some disputed items, but the mistakes arose from you—some turkeys were charged to Richardson's account; they were consigned to us, and if you or-Gibbs entered them wrongly, it was for you to discover who did have them—I did not instruct you to charge them to three or four different people, only to inquire about them. (The prisoner searched through several books, and questioned the witness as to several accounts for turkeys and rabbits, charged to the wrong persons, to prove irregularities in the manner of keeping the books.)
Re-examined. If this 8l. 11s. was entered in the rough cash-book it would not be to the prisoner's credit, but if it was entered in his own day-book it would be to his credit—he always kept the day-book, it was his duty to do so, and any mistakes which arose would be from his not keeping it properly—I have added up these two lines of figures to the same day; there is more on the debit side than on the credit side—he had no account with us, and had no right to keep any money—he was paid by salary.
HENRY BURN . I am the head of the firm of Henry Burn & Son—on the 24th November I told the prisoner we had discovered that he had taken some money which he had not accounted for—he said "Yes, I have"—I said "Is there any more? if there is let me know," and he sat down and wrote this list, amounting to 182l.—I saw him write it—I have no securities of Rackstraw affecting the prisoner, but Rackstraw owes us 150l.
Prisoner. Do you swear that Rackstraw owes you 150l.? A. I suppose so, it is in the book—the acknowledgment which was stamped at Somerset House is an order to pay in 12 months; I have not got it here—you asked me to bring the security, but that is no security—I do not remember cut-ting the date off and putting another date on, nothing of the kind occurred—you gave, I think, 19l. to my son on the night that you acknowledged the defalcations—there is no amount in this day-book to Mr. Pyatt—I did not tell you to place en amount to Messrs. Pyatt's credit on November 14th, 1872, nor did you do it; neither did you have this book there—I don't see "Pyatt, 18l. 5s." down here—oh! you have been writing across, it seems a new entry, this never was in the books before—you had access to the books because you lived in the house.
Prisoner. I made that entry in your presence, and I have never touched the books since; one entry was made in the morning and the other at night, which accounts for the difference in the ink.
COURT. Q. Did you hold out any inducement to him to make that confession?
A. None whatever—I merely said "Let us know what you have taken," and he wrote it down at the desk and handed it to me—I said nothing about prosecuting him or about going to his father.
WILLIAM POTTS (City Policeman 19). On the 6th February I went down to Loughborough in Leicestershire, and found the prisoner in custody—I said "I have a warrant to arrest you"—I handed it to him, and said Are you the one named in the warrant?"—he said "Yes," and that he had done it and was sorry for it.
Witness for the Defence.
EDWARD LOW . I am clerk to Mr. Buckler, of Fenchurch Street, the attorney for the prosecution—these telegrams to the prisoner may have been sent from our office, but not by me, I do not know them—this letter (produced by the prisoner) is in Mr. Buckler's writing (this was to the prisoner, dated 25th November, 1872, from Mr. Buckler, stating that he had received the prisoner's telegram from Market Drayton that morning).
Prisoner's Defence. What Messrs. Burn have stated relative to my going away without their consent is an untruth. They knew and gave me permis-sion to go, and they knew where I was at the time my Wife received letters from me, and they acknowledge receiving Bromby's security for 116l., which came to my home while I was away. They would have settled the matter if my father could have paid the money. He paid the 50l. security, and was told that if I kept out of the way no proceedings would be taken against me. I did not abscond or go away without their full permission, and these telegrams prove that they knew where I had gone to. Mr. Burn took all the money I had, and I had not enough to go home with, I am very sorry it has taken place. I cannot make restitution, but if my father had paid the money there would have been no prosecution.
GUILTY . He was further charged with a previous conviction of embezzlement at Middlesex Sessions in 1868, when he was sentenced to Two Years Imprison-ment, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, March 5th, 1873.
Before Mr. Justice Mellor.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. COOPER and GLYN the Defence.
CHARLES WILES . I am landlord of the Old George public-house, at Heston—on Saturday, 25th January, at 10 o'clock at night, Mrs. Westwood came to my house—I served her with 3d. worth of warm rum and water—just before 11 o'clock the prisoner came in—he asked for a pint of half-and-half—I refused to serve him, as it was near 11 o'clock—after the other customers left, the prisoner and, his wife left—when she was leaving I noticed that she seemed overcome in some way or other, I could not say what it was from, and at the door she sort of slipped down on the step, in a sort of sitting position—she did not fall—I assisted her to rise; the prisoner also assisted her, and she then left with him—Beckett was there—he went out with the other persons who went out when I closed the house
—the prisoner appeared perfectly sober, and Beckett was not drunk, in my opinion—he appeared as though he had been drinking a little, but not to be drunk.
Cross-examined. I had known them for a very little while—they always seemed quite friendly, what little I have seen of them at my house—when she slipped, he assisted her up as a kind husband would do under the circumstances—he did not appear to me as if he had been drinking—I noticed him—all the persons seemed sober—there were not many there.
CHARLES THOMPSON (Policeman T 190). On the night of 25th January I was at Heston, at a few minutes before 11 o'clock—as I was coming up Church Lane I heard a female's voice scream out—I could not understand what it was—I came a-top of the lane, and saw the prisoner and Beckett dragging a woman along—each had an arm, her head was leaning forward, and each of them had her by the arm, under the arm-pits—she was helplessly drunk; she had no use in her legs at all—it was very dark; I turned my light on them, and asked where they were going to take her to—the prisoner said "To New Heston, at the back of the Queen's Head"—I Baid "Don't drag the woman along like that; here are two of you, carry her home"—that was opposite Mr. Spooner's, the clergyman's—they then picked her up, to carry her—the prisoner said "You b----, I will pay you for getting like this in the morning"—she muttered out something about the New Cut, or some street in London, but I could not understand what she said, she seemed so drunk—she was very quiet; I never heard a bad word come out of her mouth—she did not say more than that—I did not know who she was—I thought, after those threats, he might ill-use her on the road, so I followed at a distance behind them—I followed them to the cottage where the prisoner lived, which was up a yard, at the end house—there are four or five houses in the yard—from the time I spoke to them the prisoner and Beckett carried her along, but the prisoner carried her on his back some little distance—that was before they approached the house—they were both carrying her as they approached the house—they carried her up to the door—I can't say what took place at the door; I did not go up to the door; everything seemed quiet, and I went about 50 yards on—I did not hear anything—I was there about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes—I did not see the door opened before I went away; I saw them up against the door—they saw me—I had my lantern, and followed down close behind them—they knew I was following them—I did not hear anything at the door—the prisoner was sober; he did not appear to have had liquor, he seemed sober and quiet—he never offered to ill-use the woman—Beckett was the worse for drink; he was staggery drunk; he could not walk straight—he assisted in carrying the woman—I did not see anything take place at the door—I heard the prisoner and Beckett wish one another good night, and Beckett went on towards Heston Church, to go home—I was about 50 yards off.
Cross-examined. After giving them the advice, I followed close behind them; at times I was about a yard from them, and sometimes a little further—I did not see any rough handling—the prisoner took her on his back, pic-a-back, with her arms over his neck—he carried her in that way very near to the Queen's Head; that would be within 15 or 20 yards of his house—he carried her about 100 yards in that way—he handled her tenderly—I did not say before the Magistrate that the prisoner had been drinking; he did not seem to be the worse for drink at all—I could not tell whether
he had been drinking—I could smell him—I mean he had been drinking, but he was not the worse for drink—it is hardly a quarter of a mile from Wiles's to the prisoner's house—when I left I was about 15 or 20 yards from the door of the prisoner's cottage.
JURY. Q. You say your attention was attracted to the woman by a noise: did that proceed from any injury that was inflicted then? A. No; I did not understand what she said; it appeared like the noise of a drunken woman; she did not seem to be ill-used; they were dragging her along.
JOHN BECKETT . I am a carman, residing at Langton—on 25th January last, at eight o'clock, I went to the Old George—I stopped till half-past 10—I saw Mrs. Westwood there when I came out of the tap-room at half-past 10—I did not know her before—she was standing leaning against the bar—I did not leave till the house closed, which was about 11 o'clock—she went out first—when I got outside the prisoner bad got hold of her round the shoulders, holding her up, he said she was helpless, she could mot stand, and asked me to assist her—I did not see anything happen to her outside the public-house—I assisted him to carry her—we did not carry her at first; one had hold of one arm and one the other; he was on her left side and I on the right; we took her along in that way as well as we could—she seemed quite helpless; she could not stand on her legs—after we had gone some distance I saw the policeman Thompson; we had not done anything to hurt her before Thompson came up—we never hurt her in the least—Thompson wished us to catch hold of her and carry her bodily up—we attempted to do that, and we did carry her some distance—I did not hear the prisoner say anything to her about paying her out, or anything to that effect; if he did say so I did not notice it—I had hold of her shoulders and the prisoner had hold of her legs, and we carried her part of the way like that; after that the prisoner carried her on his back—when we approached his house we were both carrying her—when we got to the door the prisoner and I together stood her up by the side of the wall close to the door, because the door was not open—he called out—Whitebread, the lodger, came down and opened the door—I let go of her and left her to her husband, and stepped back a little way—as soon as the door was unfastened the prisoner reached out to push the door back, and he let go of her, and I was not close enough to stop her, and she fell—I saw her fall; she fell on her back in the court—the court is paved a little way along in front of the houses with bricks, and some of them are rather rough, some of them are rather larger than others, and some worn down more; there are varieties in the surface—she fell on the part that is paved with bricks—as soon as the door was opened the prisoner picked her up—I did not assist; I was going to do so, but he said he would pick her up; I was close to him—he carried her indoors before him, turned himself round and pulled her a little way up the floor, and laid her down on her back on the floor, and then he put the couch ready, and he catched hold of her two shoulders and pulled her up on the couch—she might lie on the floor a minute, it was a very short time—as soon as he got the couch ready he put her on—Whitebread caught hold of her legs as the prisoner lifted her up on the couch by her head and shoulders—she cried out once opposite the parson's house—I could not understand much that she said, it was something about Blackfriars' Road; and the prisoner said to her "Don't make a noise, we are opposite to the parson's house, you will disturb them"—I did not hear her speak while the prisoner and Whitebread were putting her on the couch—there was a light
in the house, Whitebread brought one down when he came—I did not go iu-doors, only just a step over the sill of the door—I saw no blood—there was nothing done to hurt her all the time I was there, no more than the fall—when I left her Whitebread was there—she was not hurt in the least except by the fall on her back—she was placed rather sideways against the wall, and the prisoner had his arm round her under her arms, on her shoulders, like, and she fell right backwards; she was standing, and he had his arm round her, but in reaching to open the door he let go of her, and she slipped out of his hand, and fell right backwards.
Cross-examined. It was a dead fall; her head went direct back bosh upon the pavement—I did not know them at all, only by sight—I had never been in their company much; I have seen them, but not to know anything of them—some of the bricks are rough, some are worn down more than others; they are bricks and bats, having projecting edges.
WILLIAM WHITEBREAD . I am a labourer—at the time in question I lodged with my wife at the prisoner's cottage, and had done so about three months—the prisoner and his wife lived there the whole of that time—he used to go to work in London during the week, and come home on Satur-days—on Saturday night, 25th January, I was at home, after 11 o'clock; the prisoner called me down—I had not gone to bed—I came down to the door; I did not bring a light with me—when I opened the door, the pri-soner stood at the door with his hand on the latch, his wife was leaning up against the wall, and as I got the door open I saw her fall right back on the pavement in front of the door—I told him to stop while I got a light; I got one and put it on the table, and the prisoner went outside and brought his wife in, and laid her on the floor of the front-room, down stairs; that is a sitting-room; it has a wooden floor—he laid her down there while he got the couch ready to put her on; he pulled it out from underneath the window—Beckett was there—the prisoner asked me to help him lift her on the couch, and I caught hold of her legs and he caught hold of her round the shoulders—she was dressed—I did not notice what she had on her head—(Beckett. She had a bonnet on when we were carrying her; a very thin one)—After we had put her on the couch, I noticed a little blood on the floor; the prisoner asked me to wipe it up; I did so—he asked me if I knew where it came from; I said I thought it came from her mouth—I saw a little blood on her mouth—after we got her on the couch, she called out for my wife to come down—she said "Come down; yes, darling, come down, darling, dear"—my wife came down—she did not say anything to her; she did not speak; she appeared then as if she was going off to sleep, and my wife and I went up stairs, and went to bed—Beckett was then outside; the prisoner went out and showed him the way out of the gate, as he was going home—the prisoner and his wife used to sleep in the front room down stairs; the same room where the couch was; there was a bed there—our room is up stairs—nothing attracted ray attention during the night—about 6.30 on the Sunday morning, the prisoner came up and knocked at our door, and asked if he could come in—I said "Yes, open the door"—he did so, and came in—we were in bed—he said "Bill, what shall I do, for I think my wife is a croaker?"—I thought he meant that she was very ill, or dead—I did not know what to think—my wife told him to send for some brandy to give her to keep her warm—she did not think she was dead—I did not exactly understand what he meant by a croaker, but I thought what it meant, and I put on my trousers
and went down; I found that she was dead—she was on the same couch—she had got her bonnet on then—I have never seen her wear more that one bonnet that I know of—when I saw that she was dead, I told the prisoner that he had better send for the doctor and the police—I did not notice any difference in her position to what I had left her over night—I thought she seemed to be lying just in the same position—I had not noticed any wound on her head overnight, or any blood coming from her head, only the blood I saw coming from her mouth—I threw the cloth that I wiped up the blood with on the floor into a little back place; the sergeant has it—I should say before it was wiped up, it was about half the size of the palm of my hand; about the size from my fingers to my palm—I did nothing to the room in the morning—I left the woman just as I found her; a chair was placed against the couch over night, to prevent her fall-off; it was placed up against her shoulder—it was about 6. 45 when I told the prisoner he had better go for the doctor and the police—he went out, and the police afterwards came.
Cross-examined. The rough pavement outside the houses, was put down by the inhabitants themselves—when I came down in the morning the deceased seemed to be lying in the same position on the couch—the couch was about a yard or a yard and a half from the bed where the prisoner slept—he placed the chair against the couch to prevent her falling off—as far as I could see he bestowed ail the care upon her that was necessary, he seemed very kind to her; he always appeared to be a kind-hearted man, and kind towards her—she was a fine-looking woman, and stoutish—she would fall very heavily; she went down with a thud, like a dead person would fall—I thought the blood came from her mouth—I did not take any further notice, because she had been home like that so many times before—the prisoner appeared in a hurry to get to bed—he pulled his bed down before I left the room; it was stuck up underneath the window; there was no bedstead.
Re-examined. They, always lived on good terms; they always seemed to live very comfortably—about six weeks before this she came home about the same, drunk, and when she got indoors she sat down on a chair and began halloaing "Murder?" and the police came—I never saw or heard the pri-soner do anything to her—she kept saying "Take my husband into custody"—she did not say what for, that I heard—he was not taken into custody.
ELIZABETH WHITEBRBAD . I am the wife of the last witness—on Satur-day night, 25th January, my husband was called down—I called down and asked if they were in—the prisoner answered "Yes," and I heard Mrs. West-wood call out "Yes, dear, come down, darling, dear"—I went down; she was then lying on the couch; she looked at me—she looked to have got a nice colour—she did not say anything more when I got down, she seemed very quiet—I did not hear her make any noise—I stayed down a few minutes, and then went up stairs again—she had her bonnet on—I saw a spot of blood on the floor where it had been wiped up—I did not notice any blood upon her—next morning the prisoner came up and knocked at our door, and said he believed that his wife was a croaker—my hus-band got up and went down; I went down afterwards, I think about 8 o'clock—the deceased then looked to be lying just in the same state as when I left her the night before.
Cross-examined. When I left her at night she seemed very quiet; I did
not see her shut her eyes—she seemed just in the same position next morn-ing—she had got a blanket over her, that was the same the night before—I believe the prisoner put it over her—she had slept on the couch before.
THOMAS GURR (Policeman T 436). I live near the prisoner's cottage, at Heston—on Sunday morning, 26th January, about 6. 50, he came to my place; I was in bed—he said "I have just found my wife dead"—I got up and went to his house—I found his wife dead on a sofa, with a blanket over her up to her chin, and her bonnet on—I asked the prisoner what he thought was the cause of it—he said "Well, I will tell you; I brought her home last night on my back, intoxicated"—I asked him where from—he said "From Wiles's—he then asked me what he had better do—I told him to send for a doctor at once—I saw marks of blood on the woman's mouth, and a stream of blood under the right ear, trickling from the ear; it appeared as if it had been wiped off from the mouth, and not wiped round under the ear—I did not notice the state of the couch—that was all I noticed—I then gave information to Sergeant Tate—the prisoner sent for the doctor.
JOHN TATE (Police. Sergeant T 9). At 8 o'clock on the morning of the 26th of January I went to the prisoner's house—I saw the body of his wife lying on a couch in the front room dressed—the mouth and eyes were closed—I noticed some blood about the mouth and cheek, which appeared to have been wiped—she had a bonnet on—I noticed a few blood-stains on the floor, and a patch where blood had been wiped up—outside there was a patch of blood about six inches long—that was about 5 1/2 feet from the door—there were spots and a streak—I measured it—there were a few drops, apparently from the streak, leading into the house up to the couch—I have the bonnet here—I did not notice any blood on it at the time; there is blood on the left side—I cannot say whether the bonnet was on in the right way—I saw the prisoner there and asked him what was the matter—he said, "I brought my wife home, with the assistance of a man named Beckett, about 11 o'clock last night; she was very drunk; she fell down; I stood her against the wall, between the door and the window, while Whitebread opened the door; I let go of my wife, and put my hand to the latch of the door; she then turned round, apparently to go in at the door, and she fell backwards; with the assistance of Whitebread we carried her indoors and laid heron the couch"—he said he wished her to be undressed to go to bed; she said she would rather lie on the couch; he then laid down on an old bed in the corner of the room and went to sleep; he awoke about 6.30 in the morning and called his wife, and as there was no answer he went to her and found she was dead—he afterwards said he had sent for the doctor, and also for the coroner's officer to give notice, and he had called the constable Gurr in—he also, in conversation, talked about the funeral of his wife—I remained there till about 11.30 when the doctor arrived; he made a post-mortem examination about 3 in the afternoon—I searched the house—I produce a cloth which I found in a small place at the back of the front room, a kind of wash-house or scullery—in the afternoon I took the prisoner into custody, after the post-mortem examination—I charged him on suspicion of having caused the death of his wife—he said "I am innocent"—I had not seen Beckett at that time—I had spoken to Whitebread about it, and also about the blood being wiped up, but not to get full particulars—he told me that he had wiped the blood up in the morning—after the doctor left, the prisoner
said he should like to go to Hounslow to inform his friends that his wife was dead—I let him go—he came back at 3 o'clock, the time I had told him—that was before I had taken him into custody—he returned at 3—about half-past 3 the doctor made the post-mortem examination, and the prisoner was taken into custody about 5.
JAMES MEADS . I am, constable of the parish of Heston—on the Sunday night, when the prisoner was in custody, I went with him towards Houns-low—I had not charge of him; the sergeant had, but I was walking by his side—he said his wife had been a deal of trouble to him, that she had been drinking for six or seven years, that she had pawned all he had, that he might have said what the policeman said, and what he had done he done in the heat of passion—after he said that to me I told him not to say anything to me, and he said nothing further. I did not ask him any question—he was not exactly sober at the time, and he was not drunk.
Cross-examined. I was walking by his side, alone with him—the police-man was close behind us—I had not known him before.
WILLIAM MICHAEL WHITMARSH . I am a doctor of medicine, a member of the Royal College of Physicians and of the Royal College of Surgeons—I practise at Hounslow—on Sunday morning, 26th January, about 10. 30, I went to the prisoner's cottage—I found the woman lying on the sofa, quite dead and cold—I should say she had been dead about eight hours—her head was flexed forward on the left breast, slightly resting on the sofa, upon which was a mark of blood corresponding to the injury at the back part of the head—I found marks of blood on the mouth, which appeared to have been wiped—at this period I asked the prisoner how he accounted for the blood on the face of the woman—he said that she fell the night before on her face—I then made further examination, and found a slight quantity of blood oozing from the back part of the head—I asked the prisoner how he accounted for that wound at the back part of the head—he said she did not fall on her face, but she fell on her back—I asked him where she fell, and he took me outside his door, and placed himself in the position which he stated she was in when she fell—I could not possibly see how she could have fallen in that position—I don't think I said so to him—in my opinion she could not possibly have fallen in the manner in which he stated she had done to have caused the wound at the back part of the head—a small quantity of blood, which he pointed out to me as the spot where she fell, was in the middle of the brick path outside the door—that is not altogether my reason; it is part of it—I noticed several spots of blood about the room, and one large one in the middle of the room, on the floor;. that appeared to have been wiped—I asked the prisoner how he accounted for this blood—He said he put his wife on the floor when he brought her in, and when he went to Whitebread the following morning at 6.30 he had asked Whitebread to come down and wipe it up—the police-officer was present when I put these questions to him—he had not been taken into custody at that time—I then left—I don't think I took the deceased's bonnet off then—I did not at that time take a precise account of the nature of the injury at the back of the head—I returned at 3.30 in the afternoon—she appeared to be in the same position as when I left her—I then carefully examined the mouth, and found an abrasion on the right cheek, internally—I took off the bonnet—it was tied so tightly that I was obliged to cut it; the strings seemed to be tied in knots; it seemed very tight indeed under the chin—I looked at the bonnet when I took it off—
I noticed that, although the wound was on the right side, the blood on the bonnet was on the extreme left, and there was no track of blood from one side to the other—I believe this is the bonnet—I did not notice any mark or indentation upon it—the wound at the back of the head was a jagged wound, about an inch and a quarter or an inch and a half in extent; a clean wound, not a contused wound—it was right to the bone of the skull, dividing the pereostum; it had not fractured the skull—I had the body moved, and made a post-mortem examination—the couch was stained a little with blood on the upper part, but not to such an extent as to go right through to the lining; there were no clots of any kind—my opinion was that the woman had not died on the couch; if she had, in the first place, from the extensive wound on the back part of the head, there must have been a large quantity of clotted blood immediately in connection with it surrounding the wound, or we should have it at the bottom of the sofa, having run down from the same; secondly, her head would have been reclining backwards, or at one side or the other, and resting on the sofa, whereas it just barely touched the sofa, and was flexed forwards on the chest—I should imagine that she died on the floor—in all probability some-thing might have been under her head on the floor, and then, on account of being stiff and cold, when she was put on the sofa she would be in the same position; and there is another point, her bonnet was on when I saw her, but it was impossible for the wound to have been caused at the time she had it on, because the blood must have percolated through the bonnet before it got on to the stones outside—I should have expected to find a large quantity of blood on the right side, and there was not any—there was one place on the floor where a large quantity appeared to have been wiped, quite as much as I should have expected to find on the sofa—when I cut the bonnet off, I noticed that it covered the wound, because I felt the wound through the bonnet—on removing the skull I found a rupture of a blood vessel on the right side of the lesser brain, and which was on the same side as the external injury to the head—from that rupture she died—the blood had not got on to the membranes of the brain, it was at the back part of the head entirely; the brain was very much congested, but the blood had only got to the lower portion—I am satisfied that death was caused by the rupture of the vessel—the skull was not actually fractured—I should imagine death would take place perhaps in a couple of hours after the rupture, perhaps in an hour; it is impossible to say exactly—a blow of this kind on the head sometimes does not produce insensibility at the time, but it comes on afterwards—there were no bruises about the wound—she was not a particularly heavy woman; she was about 5 ft. 4 in., but not a very large woman—I should say that if she slipped from the wall, and fell backwards on her head on the brick pavement, it would not produce the wound I found, because I should expect to have had a contused wound, whereas this was a clean cut; I should have expected a contused wound in all probability, unless the head was well protected—I looked at the pavement, I saw no projections that would account for it—in my judgment a violent blow with a thick stick would have caused it, or a kick with a heavy boot; it need not have been a sharp cutting instrument; the reverse, a blunt one—I could not account for the blood on the mouth unless she fell on her mouth; a fall against the door or anything in coming out of the public-house might have produced it—all the organs of the body were perfectly healthy, the stomach was quite empty.
Cross-examined. A violent kick would not produce a contused wound, not if done with the corner of the boot; it would have just such an appear-ance as this wound presented; there need not be any contusion—what hospital I was educated at has nothing to do with the case; I am a registered medical practitioner—I was at an hospital, where I took the first prize for surgery, Westminster—I did not tell you at first because I thought it a very irrelevant question to ask—I have been in the accident ward there some thousands of times—in the medical profession we often have things that perplex us; as a rule we can form a very fair estimate of how wounds are caused, at least those who know their profession can—I have very rarely, indeed, been surprised at wounds—another surgeon was called in in this case, Dr. Glengall—he came to the same conclusion that I did; he is not here—bleeding would cease the moment death occurred, or in a very short time—there is very rarely any convulsion before death sets in in a case of this kind; it may occur where there is irritation of the brain.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY of the attempt. — Two Tears' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT, Wednesday, March 5th, 1873.
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLOUGHBY the Defence.
JOHN JOHNSON . I am an engineer, of 65, Minories—on Saturday after-noon, 1st March, I was in Trafalgar Square, at 4. 50, when a stranger accosted me, entered into conversation, and we both walked along the Strand and into a public-house, where he asked me to take a glass of wine—the prisoner came in and spoke to us there—we were there five or ten minutes—the prisoner said that he had had a legacy left him, and that his lawyer's idea of a gentleman was the man who could show the most money—he showed some 5l. notes, and wanted me to show my money—the third party showed his money too—I did not do so, but I said "I will pay for whatever you like to ask for"—after about ten minutes we all three left together, and went into two other public-houses—I drank a little in each of them, and then we went to Anderton's Hotel, Fleet Street; that was the fourth house we went to—we sat down in the coffee-room, and the third man wanted the prisoner to lend him 100l. at five per cent.—the prisoner said he would do it, and went out to get a Government stamp—the third man was left in the coffee-room with me—the prisoner returned in two or three minutes, and said that he could not get a stamp—he said "I have bought two bags of an old woman, and I don't know what to do with them"—the third man said "I will have one to keep my money in," and he asked me if I would have the other—I said "Yes," and then the third party put his watch and his pocket-book into his bag, and the prisoner said to me "Put your watch and chain and purse into the other bag"—that was in order to show my confidence in him—I did so—mine was a gold watch and chain,
I don't know the value of it—the prisoner tied the bag, and while he wag tying it the other man put his hat before my eyes, and when it was taken away there was a tied bag before me with something in it—I put it into my pocket, and they then wanted me to go out and buy a hat—I did not want one, but they were going to make me a present of one—I accepted their offer, and they wanted me to go to the shop and get the hat myself—we came out to get it, but there was no hat shop near—the prisoner then gave me 2s., and wanted me to go into a hosier's shop and buy a scarf, but I refused—he then tried to get away, but I held him by the arm and ran him into the passage of the Portugal Hotel, which is close to the hosier's shop; there were two gentlemen there, and I told them I had been robbed—the prisoner tried to get away but I kept hold of him, and during the scuffle he dropped a bag containing my watch—there were three of us, and I had to give him a blow—a policeman was sent for—I had the other bag with a watch and chain in it in my pocket—I don't know what became of the other man.
Cross-examined. I had come from on board a ship, and had been walking about for about an hour and a half—I had no refreshment before I met the stranger—we drank stout and bitter—at the hotel I had one Irish whisky, which the prisoner paid for, and I pitched away a second glass because I thought they were trying to get me tight—they would not let me pay for any of the drink—we had cigars at the place we were at before going to Anderton's, which they paid for—we had nothing to eat—the bags were empty on the table, they were both alike—I knew it was a bag which the prisoner handed to me, but I did not know what was in it—we walked out together arm in arm, and I was in the middle—the bag was in my pocket—I do not know what the prisoner did with the other bag, it was not in his hand—I pushed him down in the passage of the hotel, and Í struck him once or twice—he has a black eye now—there was not much scuffling, he was made fast immediately.
Re-examined. It was at the police-office that I found I had not got the bag containing my property—when I was holding him I did not know whether I had got ray own watch or not, but I believed I had not.
EDWARD PRICE . I am the son of the proprietor of the Portugal Hotel, Fleet Street—on Saturday evening, March 1st, I saw the prisoner and pro-secutor in the passage—I did not see the other man—I sent for a constable, and, before he came, I saw the prisoner drop this bag—I picked it up and gave it to the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. The scuffle took place near the stairs, and I was nearer the door—the prisoner was put down on the stairs, and he was knocked down afterwards by the prosecutor in the parlour—I picked up the bag, and gave it to the prosecutor, who said "This is the duplicate"—he said that before I gave him the bag, and he pulled one out of his pocket—the one the prisoner dropped was opened in the parlour; the other wag opened at the station—I have no doubt the prisoner dropped the bag; I saw him drop is.
JOHN MACGREGOR (City Policeman). I took the prisoner—a scuffle was going on, and he was being held down on his back—this bag was handed to me by the prosecutor at the hotel; it contains a silver watch, a metal chain, and an empty purse—the other bag was handed to me at the station—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found two 5l. Bank of England notes, a 1l. Belfast note, and 3l. 19s. 5 1/2 d. in money; also a satin purse, containing a sheet of blank tissue-paper, folded up, to represent bank-notes
—ho became very excited, and kept calling out about his eye; he said nothing else—he had had a violent blow on his eye—he would not allow us to search him, and we had to handcuff him.
J. JOHNSON (re-examined). I had not the two bags in my possession at the same time.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRIFFITHS the Defence.
He received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HARSWORTH conducted the Prosecution, WILLIAM BENNETT (Policeman V 345). On 27th January I was on duty in Westbourne Street, Pimlico—my attention was called to the prisoner's house, and I saw the prosecutrix standing at the door, saturated with blood—she said something, and I went up stairs to a front room, and found the prisoner sitting by the fire—I told him his wife charged him with cutting her on the head—he said "I will b----y well have two years for her"—he had been drinking—I got assistance, took him in custody, and sent her in a cab to St. George's Hospital—I found this broken frying-pan (produced) in the front room; the handle was partially hanging to it then, but it dropped off afterwards—here is a dent in it, as if it had bounded from the wall.
Prisoner. That frying-pan was bent like that before.
ANN HAGAN . I am the prisoner's wife—on 27th January I came home between 9 and 10 o'clock, or it might be later—I was out in the yard when the prisoner came in, and sent the child out for something for his tea—I went in, and took the warming-pan, to warm something for his supper—he was rather nasty because I had taken 8s. out of his pocket; he wanted me to give it to him, and I said that I had not got it—we had had a dispute about it in the morning—he went out; I gave him a shilling to go to his work, and then he wanted another shilling, but I said I had not got one—I did not see him afterwards till he came home at night—I then got the frying-pan, and was going to the table; as I passed him he jumped up, seized the frying-pan, and hit me over the head with it once or twice—I bled, and went down stairs to the door—I was sent to the hospital—I know he would not have done it if he had not been in drink, for he is a very good husband when it is not for the drink, and I wish you to be merciful to him—I was three weeks and three days in the hospital—my head is well now—the frying-pan was a little bent at the side before; the handle was not broken off, but it was rather loose.
Prisoner. Q. Were you not going to cook some cabbage, and did you not knock my finger? A. The frying-pan may have knocked your hand—I know you would not touch me with the intention of wounding me unless you were in a temper—you have had your skull fractured with a piece of iron—you gave me a sovereign two nights before.
JAMES GODFREY THRUPP . I am house-surgeon at St. George's Hospital—I examined the prosecutrix there on 27th January—she was faint from loss of blood, and had two wounds on the back of her head, one about an inch and a half long, and the other about three inches, clean cut, and each
went down to the bone, exposing the bone—the larger wound of the two had made a fissure in her skull, and was of a dangerous character—the fissure was an indentation, very nearly approaching a fracture; it was a groove in the skull—a frying-pan would be likely to produce it if wielded by the handle, but it would require considerable force—she was under my care three weeks as an in-patient, and about a week afterwards as an out-patient.
Prisoner's Defence. I was struck on the head with a piece of iron, and have been in the hospital, and when I have any drink it flies to my head. I promise it shall not happen again. It is the first time I have been charged with knocking her about, and it will be the last.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. —(He had been several times convicted of assaults.)— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
HUGH ALOYSUS HAY . I am a cashier at the London Joint Stock Bank, Princes Street, City—Mr. Jabez Tuck, a stationer of Old Broad Street, keeps an account there—on Thursday afternoon, 30th January, between 3 and 4 o'clock, the prisoner came in and presented a cheque purporting to be Mr. Jabez Tuck's for 300l.—I had a doubt as to the genuineness of the signature, and asked him what he would take for it, he said "Three 100l. notes"—I then compared it with the signature in our book, and showed it to our chief cashier, who sent to Mr. Tuck to ask him if it was his signa-ture—it was brought back with Mr. Tuck—the prisoner stood at the counter part of the time, but when we thought there was a chance of his escaping, we invited him into the private room, but previous to that the chief cashier asked him whether he knew the drawer or the payee, and said "Where did you get it?"—he said "From a gentleman round the corner"—he said "What do you mean by round the corner?"—the prisoner said "At the public-house"—I think he said in King Street—Mr. Tuck then returned with the messenger, and had an interview with the prisoner—Haydon, the detective, who had been sent for, asked the prisoner how he got the cheque—he said from a person whom he met at a public-house—he was then asked if he knew the person—he said that he did not know his name or address, but he had had two or three transactions with him in the way of business—he was asked what they were—he said he had made him a small table or desk as he was a cabinet-maker, but he did not know who he was or where he lived—the chief cashier told him he must consider himself in custody for presenting the cheque, as it was forged, and Haydon then went with him to a public-house, but not to the one he named—the messenger brought back Mr. Tuck's cheque-book—this (produced) is it—this cheque is one which has been taken out of it about a dozen pages on beyond the place where the counterfoils have been used.
Cross-examined. Several other persons were standing at the counter—I had half-a-dozen yards to go to the cashier—I was talking to him a few minutes—I had to find out the signature taken in the book on opening the account, and to compare it with the cheque—the cashier and I then went back to where the prisoner had been left, and we found him in the same place—the cashier invited him into his room—Haydon arrived in about ten minutes.
—I saw the prisoner at the counter, and asked him if he had got the cheque from Mr. Tuci—he said "No"—I asked him if he knew who he got it from—he said "From a gentleman"—I asked him where he was—he said "Round the corner at a public-house"—I asked him if he knew Mr. Wilson, the payee—he said that he did not—I asked him to wait, and sent to Mr. Tuck to ascertain if it was right, asking one of the messengers to go to the door—when I ascertained that the cheque was incorrect, I asked the prisoner to go into the waiting-room, where I told him that there was a great doubt about the cheque, and left Haydon to ask him questions.
Cross-examined. My opinion at first was that it was Mr. Tuck's writing, but that it had been done with a steel pen—I certainly should not have paid it because the genuine ones have the appearance of being written with quill pens; they are thicker writing—it appears to have a resemblance in the termination of the surname—the figures are not usually filled up by Mr. Tuck—I was on one side of the counter and the prisoner on the other—I asked him to wait, and he showed no disposition to go—I said "Will you step this way?" and I walked on the inside of the counter on the private side, and he walked on the public side—we joined at the end of the counter, and went into the room together.
MICHAEL HAYDON (City Detective). I went into the private room of the London Joint Stock Bank, and saw the prisoner—I said "You have been told that I am a police officer—it will be my duty to ask you for the best explanation you can give with reference to this matter—the cheque which you have presented is, as you have been told, a forgery"—he said in substance "I had an appointment at 1.30 this afternoon with a gentleman at the public-house, at the corner of Coleman Street; I have known him about twelve months, and have had two or three transac-tions in business with him; I don't know his name or his address or occupation; I kept my appointment and waited a considerable time, and was leaving the public-house and met him coming in; I went with him to a public-house, at the corner of the street, just round to the left; he asked me to have some refreshment, and then asked me take this cheque to the London Joint Stock Bank to cash it, and bring the money to him at the public-house"—he said that he had on one or two occasions done business with him—I requested him to point out the public-house, and went with him to the Three Bucks Tavern, at the corner of the Old Jewry—I asked the barmaid in his presence if she had any recollection of his being there with a gentleman—she said "Yes," and that she overheard some conversa-tion in which mention was made of 25s. or 30s., she did not know which—the prisoner questioned at the Mansion House the accuracy of part of my evidence—he said that he did not say he had known the gentleman twelve months.
Cross-examined. He said "I will take you to the public-house where he gave, me the cheque, and the barmaid will remember it as she was observing us at the time"—I think I told you that before—I only took him to one public-house—he did not tell me the name of it; there is only one at the corner of Coleman Street—he mentions two public-houses in his statement—I have seen him before.
LOUISA DOWNS . I am barmaid at the Three Bucks, Gresham Street, at the corner of Old Jewry—on 13th January, between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, the prisoner was there—a strange man had come in previously, and I served him with a glass of ale—the prisoner came in two or three
minutes afterwards, and I heard 30s. mentioned first by the prisoner—the other man said "No, I will give you 25s."—the prisoner said "and you will stand a glass of beer, will you?"—the man said "Yes"—the prisoner then left—that is all that I heard pass—I heard it directly he came in—the prisoner joined the other man when he came in and spoke to him—he merely drank a glass of ale and went out—they were standing in the private box—after the prisoner had left the strange man made a statement to me—I answered him, and he went out two or three minutes after the prisoner had left, and I saw no more of him—some time afterwards Haydon came back with the prisoner.
Cross-examined. After the prisoner left, the man said "I have given him a cheque to change; "I asked if he knew him; he said "No"—I said "It is strange giving him a cheque if you don't know him"—he said "Don't you think it would be well if I was to watch him?"—I said "Yes," and he went out.
JABEZ TUCK . I am a stationer of Union Court, Old Broad Street, and have an account at the London Joint Stock Bank—this cheque has not my signature, nor is it written by my authority—I do not know Wilson—I find the form has been taken out of the middle of my cheque-book—I have not the slightest idea how.
Cross-examined. I sometimes kept the book in one drawer in my office, and sometimes in another, and sometimes left it locked up in the iron safe—it was not open unless somebody pulled the drawer open, and it was always covered with a mass of paper—I am sure it is not my writing—I compared it with some 200 cheques, and there is not the slightest similitude—it is painted up and I always write very quickly.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: I did not say I had known the gentleman twelve months; I said the gentleman had bought of me some time ago, about nine or twelve months since. I had to meet him on Thursday, and he walked as far as a public-house at the corner of the Old Jewry, where he asked me to have something to drink. I was to get a table from him, which was not ready. He said how much shall it be, 25s.,? I said "No. 30s.; "I then had a glass of beer with him. While I was agreeing with' him as to the price, he took me off my guard and asked me if I knew the London Joint Stock Bank. I replied I knew almost all the banks, but not by name. Then I went with the cheque, which the bar-maid saw him give me. I wfas told at the bank it was a forgery, and the officer came in, and I took the officer back with me to the public-house. The barmaid then told him that the gentleman did not stop long after I went.—(The prisoner received a good character.)
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, March 5, 1873.
HENKY WILLIAMSON . I am manager and partner in the firm of Messrs. Williamson, carrying on business at 42, Cannon Street as gunmakers—on 18th February Mr. Brown brought the prisoner into the office, and left him there—I was writing—Mr. Brown left him, and said he would be back in a few minutes—I told the prisoner to take a seat, and he did so—he sat within
about a yard from me—I did not speak to him then—a bag was placed on the table, which he afterwards moved on to the show-glass adjoining the window; two or three feet from the window—as soon as Mr. Brown left he sat down and rose up again—we kept some of our revolvers in the show glass, and others are on the window-ledge—the prisoner reached across my back, and then I turned round and said "If you wish to see the revolvers I will move, I am in your way," and I heard him remove the revolvers in the window—I afterwards heard something from Gibson, and on 20th February I went to Mr. Vaughan's, in the Strand—we did busines with them, and I went there by accident—I saw a revolver first, which was brought into the shop during the time I was there—I recognised it immediately as our revolver—I saw the prisoner, and I told him it was one that we missed, and that he was in our place on the Tuesday—he said it was one that some one had given to him to ask the value—I telegraphed to Bow Lane; he was detained, and then taken into custody.
Cross-examined. I am not in partnership, I am manager—this (produced) is a tolerably correct representation of the office—there is a table close up to the window—the prisoner occupied a chair at the end of the table—the show-glass runs from the window; it does not go the whole length of the office—there is a chair between the table and the show-glass—he would reach over the chair to get at the show-glass—that revolver wag in the window, on the window-ledge, so that it could be seen from the street—I had not seen the revolver at all on that day—the prisoner did ask at what price we could supply rifles and guns, and such things, but there was not much conversation about the price of revolvers—he mentioned revolvers, and I showed him one out of the window—that was a nipple revolver—I placed them back in the window myself—my attention had been called particularly to this pistol; it is a liege action, it is twelve barrelled, and has been in stock for two years—it was the only revolver we had of that kind—it has a defect which I can swear to—the firm that manufacture our revolvers would manufacture a large number of the same kind, but I don't suppose you would find half a-dozen of this kind in London—the barrel of this is loose, I can shake it; that is how I know it, and it has the Birmingham proof—that is not always usual for foreign pistols; it is not an uncommon thing—the whole of the pistol is made abroad except the stock part—the prisoner came to our place on the Wednesday following the Tuesday—I believe he came on business, and was there for some time—we do business with Mr. Vaughan—it is a well-known house in the gun trade—I saw the information of this pistol there—they have notice when anything is stolen—I believe it was Mr. Vaughan who gave him into custody—I wanted him to tell me where he got it from, but I should have given him into custody.
Re-examined. He was sufficiently near the glass to have reached the pistol where he was—it is a peculiar kind of pistol—I could not swear that the stock was made by us, but I believe it was—we have had it two years in stock—the pistols are not moved from the window every night—they are left there.
RICHARD NEWSOM GIBSON . I am assistant to Mr. Williamson—on the 18th of February I saw the prisoner there—it was my duty to examine the revolvers every morning and evening, and clean them when they required it—I identify this one—I saw it last on Tuesday morning, the 18th—I went to the window at 3 o'clock in the afternoon and missed it, it was the largest
revolver we had, and it had been two years in stock—I gave information to Mr. Williamson and a description of the revolver, and I was afterwards called to Mr. Vaughan's, where I identified the revolver—I saw the prisoner there—he said something about a man had given it to him to get pledged—I had seen the prisoner before.
Cross-examined. I have seen him at our place several times; he called to see Mr. Brown—I think I went into the office once on the Tuesday when the prisoner was there—he had been in the office a long time before I went in—he was there when I went in—I went out about once previous to missing the revolver—I was not in and out—the pistols were kept in the window—I was in the room when the prisoner went out with Mr. Brown—I had not been told to take any pistols out of the show-case and put them back.
ARNOLD JAMES BROWN . I am the show-room manager—I remember the prisoner coming on the 18th of February, and I took him into Mr. Williamson's office—I had a conversation with him, and left him in the office with Mr. Williamson; he was then standing by the side of the table—he had a bag with him, and he put the bag on the table—I went away for about a minute, and when I came back the prisoner sat on the table, and the bag was on the case opposite the table—the case was close to the window—I saw some pistols shown to the prisoner, and I saw him go away with the bag—after he had gone Gibson gave me information.
Cross-examined. I was the person whom the prisoner went to see—there is a show-case besides the window that is used for firearms also—this pistol came from the window—Mr. Williamson would be sitting between the prisoner and the window, and in order to get to the window he would have to reach over him—he could not pass—the prisoner came on the following day with his daughter—nothing was said to him then.
FRANK SWAISLAND . I am assistant to Mr. Vaughan, pawnbroker, 39, Strand—on the 20th of February the prisoner came there and offered this revolver in pledge—I took it to the front shop to show to another assistant, and Mr. Williamson was there—he identified the pistol as his—Mr. Williamson went round to the prisoner—he said he brought it from some one to pledge—he was detained, and then given into custody.
Cross-examined. Mr. Vaughan's house is well known for business of that kind—we do a large business in guns—it was in the afternoon the prisoner came in—he came in the pawn department—he asked what the value was—I took it to the other assistant, who is more in the guns than I am—Mr. Williamson was with the other assistant, and he saw it at the same time—I took the pistol back and asked the prisoner where he got it from—I also said to him, "It is stated that this pistol has been stolen"—he said, "Who is it says so?"—I said it was Mr. Williamson, the gunmaker, and he said, "Let me go and see Mr. Williamson"—the prisoner went out in the street and came in at the other door and spoke to Mr. Williamson—I believe Mr. Williamson went out to him on the pavement—I have seen a pistol of this make once before about five years ago.
JOHN FRANCIS MITCHELL (Detective). I went to Mr. Vaughan's, the pawnbroker's, and took the prisoner into custody—he was there with Mr. Williamson—I told him he was charged with stealing this pistol—he said, "I was at Mr. Williamson's shop on Tuesday, the 18th; I afterwards left, and I met a gentleman, a friend of mine; I don't remember his name nor his address; I went to Mr. Vaughan's in the Strand for the purpose of
ascertaining the value of a pistol, having been asked by my friend to lend him 20s. or 30s. on it"—he refused his own address, and would not give the name or address of the gentleman who had sent him.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his age — Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. SMITH conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN DAVIS (City Detective). On 16th February last I saw the two prisoners in Petticoat Lane, about 10. 45—I watched them for about an hour—I saw Clove first put his hand in a gentleman's pocket, and after-wards Keen put his hand in, but did not get anything—I saw them after-wards both go up to a young man; Clove put his hand in his right-hand pocket, took his handkerchief out, wiped his face with it, and shoved it down the sleeve of his coat—I spoke to the gentleman, and told him, and he gave me the name of Duke, and said he worked for the East India Company—I went after the prisoners, and caught Clove—I told him I was a police officer, and should take him for stealing a handkerchief from a young man—he became very violent, and it took three of us to carry him to the station—I found the handkerchief in his sleeve—I saw Keen the next morning, opposite the Bishopsgate Street Station—I told him I should take him for being concerned with Clove, now in custody, for stealing a handkerchief from a, person in White Street—I took him to the station; the charge was read over to him, and he made no reply—I could not find the gentleman who lost his pocket-hankerchief; I made every possible inquiry, and could not find him.
Clove's Defence. I took my handkerchief out to wipe my nose, and the officer came and laid hold of me by the collar, and asked me what I had there. I said I had nothing belonging to him, and I gave the handkerchief to him. It belonged to me; it has been washed about eight times, and there was a small hole in it about the size of a sixpence. I am the owner.
JOHN DAVIS (recalled). The Inspector on duty asked me if there were any marks about the handkerchief; I held it out, and the prisoner was present when I showed him there was a hole—after the prisoner was com-mitted for trial, he said to me "if I had tore that handkerchief you would not have found an owner for it"
Keen's Defence. I went with Clove down Petticoat Lane. I saw him wipe his nose, and the officer laid hold of him. I had no idea what he was took for, and the next morning I went to the police-station with his break-fast, and the policeman said he should take me for being concerned with Clove.
GUILTY . They also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted, Clove in May, 1865, and Keen in April, 1870. CLOVE.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. KEEN.*— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosetution; and MR. GLYN the Defence.
JAMES GARDNER . I live at 24, Haggerstone Lane—on Wednesday, 29th January, I was coming home from my club, a little after 12 o'clock—I was in the Kingsland Road—I saw two or three men and two women there—they had got the Woman, Mary Wetherall, down, knocking her about—I
said "What are you doing to the woman; why don't you let her get up; are you going to murder the woman?"—they said "What has the woman to do with you?" and one of them hits me in the face, and knocks me down—I got up, and said "What do you mean by that?"—he said "What has the woman to do with you?" and he knocks me down again—I went about 20 yards away, and two people came up in a few minutes, and then a policeman came up, and moved the woman from one side of the road to the other—she had lost her boots, and several things—the men and women were all gone when the policeman came up—the prisoner was standing there when I was knocked down—I did not see him when the policeman came up—the prisoner came up with the rest of them—there were five or six men and two women, and I heard them say "There is a woman now, pay her," and the two women started, she was knocked down, and then the men started on her—the prisoner was with the men when they first came up.
Cross-examined. There were five or six men—the assault started as soon as they got up—I saw the prisoner there, but I did not see him after the row was over—I did not see which way they went away.
MARY ANN WETHERALL . I am a widow—on the morning of Wednesday, 29th January, shortly after midnight, I was passing along the Kingsland road—I went into a fish shop to have a bottle of ginger-beer, and as I was leaving the shop up came two men and two women and said, "Here is Paul Sheen; let us pay her"—the prisoner was one of them—I had seen them before, but never spoke to them—my name was Sheen before I was married—I had never quarrelled with them—with that one of the women made a tear at my bonnet—I stood back; I don't wish to tell lies; and I took off my cloak to fight the woman, but before I had time to defend myself I was knocked down—they took hold of my hair and held me down, and caught hold of my throat.
The COURT considered there was no evidence of the robbery.
NOT GUILTY .
MARY ANN WETHERALL . Shortly after midnight I went into a house to have some ginger-beer, and when I came out I saw two men and two women—the prisoner was amongst them—one of the men said, "Here is-Paul Sheen, and pay her"—it was not the prisoner who said that, I am certain—one of the women made a tear at my bonnet—I would have fought and defended myself, but I had not time—I was knocked down, and they began tearing me to pieces—I don't know who knocked me down all of them knocked me down before I could defend myself—I did not hear the prisoner say anything—they took my boots off—some one said, "Take the b----cow's boots off," and they were taken off—the prisoner did not strike me at all—I wish to withdraw from the charge against him.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN Ross. I am a constable employed at the Dock Tea Warehouses in Cutler Street—on Tuesday afternoon, 13th February, I saw the two prisoners and another lad come into the yard—Snell and Richards each had a bundle—Richards dropped a bundle—I saw him pick it up again—Snell
said "What did you do that for? we shan't get off the place"—I turned to ask them what they had got, and they ran away—Snell dropped his bundle and Richards was stopped with three waistcoats in his hand—I picked up the bundle that Snell dropped.
Richards. I only had one waistcoat in my possession.
Richards. That was the one I had in my possession, and that I picked up.
JAMES WANT (City Sergeant, 43). I was called to the Cutler Street ware-houses, and found the two prisoners in custody—I told them they would be charged with the unlawful possession of those waistcoats—they said nothing—they both gave correct addresses.
GEORGE HOLLINGTON . I am a wholesale clothier, at 166, Bishopegate Street—these waistcoats are my property—they are worth 50s.—I did not miss them till a constable came to me—they had been stolen from an inner room, where the work was received—they were safe in my place within half an hour of the constable coming.
Richards' Defence. I met Snell and another boy walking together in Bishopsgate Street. I said, "What have you got there?" and he said, "Some waistcoats; I am doing a job for the Jews. "I kept with them to the warehouse yard. Some one called out, "Stop him! "One of the waistcoats dropped, and I picked it up. I saw the two running ahead, and I ran away. I got round the corner, and I was stopped. Snell. It was the other boy who was carrying the bundle.
SNELL— GUILTY .**— One Month's Imprisonment, and Four Years' in a Reformatory.
RICHARDS— NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
DUNCAN MCGILLORY . I am book-keeper to Mr. William Tulloch, of 54, Leadenhall Street, wholesale grocer—about 1. 50 on the afternoon of 25th February, I saw the prisoner standing on the step of the warehouse in the act of receiving a small chest of tea from another man—the man put it on his shoulder, and the prisoner immediately walked across the street and entered Creed Church Lane—I went into the warehouse, made in-quiries, and sent the foreman after him.
EDWARD WILLIAM JOHNSON (City Policeman 932,). I saw the prisoner in Creed Church Lane with a chest of tea on his shoulder—he said he was going to take it to Bermondsey for a man, and the man was going to give him a shilling for taking it—while I was speaking to the prisoner Mr. Tulloch's foreman came up and charged him with stealing it, and I took him to the station.
The prisoner in his defence stated that a gentleman gave him the dust to carry.
GUILTY .**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
253. GEORGE CLARK (64), was indicted for that he being entrusted by John Wood and others with 89l. 3s. 8d., with a certain direction in writing to deliver such moneys again to the said John Wood and others, or any trustees of the Perseverance Birmingham Society, in violation of good faith did convert the same to his own use.
MR. WILLOUGHBY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN WOOD . I live at Gales Gardens, Bethnal Green—I am a carpenter and secretary to the Perseverance Birmingham Society—we met at the Crown and Anchor public-house, Temple Street, Hackney—the defendant was the landlord of that public-house since 1868—he was appointed treasurer of the society in 1868, and he has acted in that capacity up to December, 1872—we have certain rules, and when he became treasurer I gave him a copy of the rules—I have got my book here—I paid money to the defendant from time to time—the entries are all initialed by him—I have paid him 89l. 3s. 8d. last year—I have paid him that from time to time, and his receipt is here—I paid him 89l. 3l. 8d. in the course of the year 1872; that was the total amount left in his hands; that is the balance—Brown, whose signature is here, was his servant; he received for the defendant when he was not there—money had been paid to sick members, but 89l. 3s. 8d. is the amount which he received after we had paid bills and everything—we arrange as to what payments shall be made, and the net cash goes into the treasurer's hands, that makes 89l. odd altogether now in his possession—I spoke to him on 10th December—I told him that I had heard he was going to leave his house on the 17th, and he said "Yes, he was"—I said "Will you be able to square up with me, Mr. Clark, the day before the 16th?"—on the Monday night that would be—he said "Never mind, it will be right enough, I will square up on the club night"—that was the 17th—the 17th arrived, but he did not come—I saw him again on the 18th at the place he had moved to in the next street—we asked him then for the money—two of the trustees were with me, Diggins and Patterson—we asked him for the money, and he said he had not got it—he said we must go to his security (bond), and we went to his bond, and he said he would have nothing at all to do with it, Mr. Clark must pay his own debts—Mr. Clark said he had not got a farthing—I have not received any of the 89l.—lie had no authority to deal with the money. Prisoner. If they had let me alone, I should have made it up.
Prisoner. I never had a copy.
JOHN WOOD (continued). This is a copy of our rules—I gave the prisoner one like that—I am the secretary—two trustees went with me to the prisoner—there are three trustees—Diggins and Patterson were there when I asked for the money, and they heard it—the rule says there shall be three trustees—the prisoner was not a member.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. HARMSWORTH conducted the Prosecution.
Street, Woolwich—on a Saturday in February I served the prisoner with a pair of boots for her little girl, who was with her—she then asked for some stockings—I fetched them, and when I came back I missed a pair of boots—as she went out the boy who stands outside called out—I called her back, she dropped the boots, and the boy brought them into the shop—when she was charged she said that she had not been outside the shop.
FRANK JOHNSON . I am in Mr. Payne's employ—I was outside the shop at 6.30, and heard Mr. Lashmar call out "Here, I want you"—the prisoner was then outside the shop, she had just come out; she turned and went back into the shop, and dropped a pair of boots from under her shawl, on her left side; I picked them up; they were fastened to each other by a string.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am quite innocent, I never went outside the shop. I must have the case looked into by a Jury.
Prisoner's Defence. I never did such a thing; there are a quantity of boots outside, on the pavement. I keep a shop, and work very hard, and have a very good character. I am quite innocent.
GUILTY .— Three Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. MEAD and HORACE BROWN conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN NORCUTT . I am the niece of William Sumpster—on 27th January the prisoner came to the shop for 1d. worth of cocoanut candy—he gave me a half-crown, I put it in the till; there was no other half-crown there—I had to go to the till very soon afterwards and looked at the half-crown, after which I kept it in my purse till I gave it to the policeman—on the night of 3rd February the prisoner came again for 1d. worth of cough drops, and gave me a florin—I tried it with my teeth, aud found it was bad—I called out "George, just come out here, here is the man who gave me the bad half-crown"—the prisoner then ran out, without his change—I kept the florin in my hand till I gave it to the policeman.
Prisoner's Defence. I was not there on the first occasion; I had a fit the day before, and never went out of doors for sometime.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Month' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. MEAD and HORACE BROWN conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH CATHERINE BARBER . I live with my uncle, Mr. Lyon, a watch-maker, in Camberwell New Road—on 3rd February, between 6 and 7 o'clock, the prisoner came in and asked to look at a watch; I showed him several—he went away, and came back and looked at another watch—I found him one at 21s.—I wrapped it up, and he said he had only 26s.—I let him have it for 26s.; he paid me with six shillings and two half-sovereigns
—while he was there my uncle came in, and found that the two half-sovereigns were bad—I am certain the prisoner is the man.
Prisoner. Q. What do you know me by? A. By your face.
JAMES LYON . I am a watchmaker, of 39, Camberwell Road—on 3rd February I went into my shop, and saw some money on the counter—I said "Those are two bad half-sovereigns"—I gave them to the constable—I cannot swear to the prisoner, but I can swear that this watch (produced) was in my window that evening.
Prisoner. I bought the watch and chain as they are for 9s., of a strange man in a public-house, and it has been repaired; the seconds hands have been altered.
Witness. It has been repaired, because the hands did not work, but it is the same watch—somebody had bought it, and paid a trifle on it as a deposit—the hands have been altered since—I do not know the number, as we do not always take the number of cheap watches, and this is a very cheap one, they only cost 14s. wholesale.
EMILY JANE BROOKS . My father keeps the St. George Tavern, Lambeth Road—I remember serving the prisoner with a glass of stout—he gave me an Australian sovereign, and I gave him a half sovereign and the rest in silver and copper—I went to another part of the bar and saw him with his hands on the change—a man came in who wanted a light, and inquired for somebody—he had some conversation with me, which took my attention off the prisoner, who then pushed a half sovereign forward and wanted change for it—I tried it, and it would not go through—it was different in colour to the one I gave him—I called my father, who said to the prisoner "This game won't do here"—the prisoner said that it was the one I had given him—they searched him, but found nothing—the man who asked for a light leaned over the prisoner, but I could not see what the prisoner was doing at that time—a policeman then came in, and he was given in custody, with the bad half sovereign—the prisoner then took a watch and chain out of his pocket and put it on the engine.
Prisoner. Did you see me counting the silver you gave me? A. Yes; I did not see you put anything in your pocket—I went away—you said that you would go for your master.
JOHN BROOKS . I keep the St. George Tavern—on 4th February my daughter said to me "Father, this man is ringing the changes, offering me a bad half sovereign for a good one I gave him"—I said "Young fellow, this game won't do here; I must take care of you"—my son held (he door—the prisoner said "I will fetch my master"—I said "Tell mo who your master is, and I will send for him; I will not let you go out"—he put down a watch and chain and said "I will leave this and fetch my master"—I cannot swear that this is the watch; I gave it to the constable.
Prisoner. I did not say anything about leaving my watch; Í took it off when the constable came in to search me.
ALFRED HAZLEDEAN (Policeman L 228). I was called—this watch was lying on the counter when I went in—I took it—no one said where it came from—I took the prisoner and received three florins, a half-crown, and a bad half sovereign—I showed the watch to Mr. Lyon—the prisoner then said it was his watch, and that the half sovereign was the same as they gave him—I asked his address, but did not get it.
Prisoner. Did not you say "Take off that watch" when you came in? A. No; it lay there.
Prisoner's Defence. I received 19s. 10d. in change for a sovereign, among it was this half sovereign; I shoved it away, and said "Give me all silver. "She picked it up and tried it; but she did not try it before she gave it to mo. She said "It is bad; "I said "It is the one you gave me. "After a good deal of talk, I said "If you don't give me the change I shall summons you for it. "Somebody jumped over the counter, and three policemen came and searched me. I gave 9s. for the watch, and had the small hand and the glass repaired.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. MEAD and HORACE BROWN conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS PHELAN (Detective L). On Friday evening, the 7th of February, I saw the prisoner and another man in Lambeth—I went up to them, and one of them ran away—I took the prisoner into a shop, searched him, and found nine bad florins in his jacket wrapped up in tissue paper which went between real coin—he said he picked them up in the road—afterwards at the station he said that the man who ran away gave them to him.
Prisoner's Defence. I was with another man who picked up the packet of coins. I tried one going along, and said they are not good, you will get into trouble; you had better get rid of them as quick as you can; we will put them down this sink, and just as we were going to do so, the detective came up.
GUILTY .*— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. MEAD and HORACE BROWN conducted the Prosecution.
MATTHEW Fox (Police Inspector M). On the 14th of November I went into the Equestrian Tavern, Blackfriars Road, and found the prisoners and a lot of men—I took the prisionera in custody and to the station, and handed them over to the female searcher who gave me, after searching Jones, a packet containing ten counterfeit florins wrapped up in tissue paper, a purse containing 9s. 6d. in good silver and some copper—the two prisoners were in different parts of the public-house—when the search was ever they were put together, and Jones said, "I never saw this woman before, I merely went in to get a glass of ale"—they denied all previous knowledge of each other.
Jones. Q. Did not I tell you I found them? A. Yes, but it was impos-sible for you to stop without my seeing you.
Seymour. Q. Was not I standing against the door? A. Against the bar you were apart, but facing each other.
SARAH ANN FENSOM . I am female Bearcher at Stones End Police Station—I searched the prisoners—I asked Jones what she had about her—she said, "Nothing, but a 6d."—I said I cannot find one—in searching her dress I found something in the gathers done up in paper—I said, "You have more than 6d. here"—she said, "That is something I picked up"—I
gave it to the inspector—I found on Seymour a purse containing a florin, in a separate compartment, and some half-crowns.
HENRY HARRIS . I keep the Equestrian Tavern—I have twice spen the prisoners there together—I saw them on this Friday afternoon, and they were taken about 7 in the evening—they were drinking together then and were taken away, and they went away together on the previous night—I ordered them out.
Jones. Q. You never saw me in the house before; did you serve me? A. No, but I was watching you on account of the male company you wore in.
JOHN HARRINGTON . I am assistant to Mr. Hams—I saw the prisoners there together on the Wednesday night with several men—I requested them to leave, and they did, but on the Thursday night they came again—I did not see them on the Friday night.
Jones's Defence. I went in to have a glass of ale, and was standing five or six yards from this female, and a man dropped this at my feet. I picked it up. When I was searched I did not know what it contained.
Seymours Defence. I am an unfortunate girl, and a gentleman made me a present of 12s. I was not aware they were bad.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment each.
259. GEORGE WILSLOW (47) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Thomas Cato, and stealing therein eight shirts, and one counterpane, his property, and a quantity of skirts, chemises, petticoats, and other articles of Margaret Morgan.
MR. GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES GRAHAM (Policeman M 19). On 27th February, about 10. 30 p. m., I entered a passage at the rear of Mrs. Cato's house, and found some skirts tied up in a bundle, at the rear of No. 103, close to No. 105—I saw the prisoner on the leads, which is a flat roof, over the kitchen, and level with the first floor—with assistance I took him in custody—these are the things (produced)—they were tied up in a skirt, and there was also a canvas bag—I told the prisoner the charge was entering the house, and stealing these things—he said "What things? I know nothing about it"—I took him to the station—I afterwards got on to the leads, and found that access to the house had been gained from the wall—there were marks on the wall and on the window-sill—there were no marks of violence on the door—it closes with a latch—I went inside, and found myself in the hall—I spoke to Mrs. Cato and the inhabitants, who came out, and I showed them the property—the prisoner was quite sober, but he pretended to be drunk.
EMILY LEWIS . I am assistant to Thomas Cato, of 105, Newington Causeway—I identify this property as belonging to Mrs. Cuto and Mrs. Morgan, a lady stopping with her—there is a skylight to the flat over the leads, and we were assembled in the room below—all the articles were in Mrs. Cato's bedroom, and there was no one there but the baby, who was asleep—the door was shut—it opens with a latch—I heard a noise about 10. 30, and found the police there.
ELIZABETH CATO . I am the wife of Thomas Cato, of 105, Newington Causeway—on the night of the 27th I was in my bedroom, and saw this property safe—the door leading to the leads was closed as I passed down—no one went up stairs, to my knowledge, till the polios arrived—the door that goes on to the leads leads to the water-closet, and we do not look it till we go to bed—nobody has a right on those leads but our own family.
Prisoner. I had been drinking all day. There was another party who has escaped. A man came to the station, and said that he saw another man.
Witness. A boy came to the station, and said that he saw a man in the passage—the leads are 8 feet high.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
JOSEPH SMITH . I am a baker of 144, Wyndham Road, Camberwell—on 18th January a man named Woollett called on me and bought two sacks of flour, in payment for which he handed me this cheque—(This was dated 18th January, 1873, drawn by Peter McEwen on the National Bank, Old Cavendish Street, West, for 4l. 16s., payable to Mr. Smith or bearer)—believing it to be a good and genuine cheque, I let the man have the flour—I should not have done so had it not been for the cheque—I afterwards paid it away to my miller, and it was returned to me, marked "No effects"—some time in the next month I saw the prisoner, I don't know the date—I went to his office, 5, Billiter Street, City, he is a wine-merchant, I think; it was about three or four days after I received the cheque bask dis-honoured—I asked him for the money for the cheque, as it was returned to me—he said he was very sorry, and he would come down in the evening and pay me; he did not come that evening—he gave me another cheque two days afterwards; it was on 30th January—this is it, it is for 4l. 16s.—I did not present that—he paid me 2l. on it on the Monday before he was taken—I did not see him again until he was in custody.
GEORGE HART . I am a baker at Cold Harbour Lane, Brixton—on 23rd January I was carrying on business in East Street, Walworth—I advertised that business for sale, the prisoner came and offered to buy it, he agreed to give me 90l. for it—there was an agreement in writing—Mr. Hagan, the pri-soner's solicitor has it—he acted for us both—at the time it was written out the prisoner also agreed to give me something for the flour—he paid me this 5l. cheque as a deposit on the 25th, and I gave him this receipt—he also gave me this cheque for 17l. 10s. at the same time; that was for the flour—(The cheques were both on the National Bank, Oxford Street Branch.—The agreement was produced)—I let him have the flour, it was in eight sacks—on the following Tuesday, I paid both the cheques to Mr. Barrett, the miller, and they were returned marked "No effects"—I gave the prisoner 2s. change at the time he gave me the cheques.
Cross-examined. It was on Saturday, 25th January, that he gave me the cheques—they are dated the 27th—I did notice that—I know the 5l. cheque was dated the 27th; I did not look at the other—I did not know it was post-dated.
to 5, Billiter Street, and found the prisoner there in an office—I told him who I was, and asked if his name was McEwen—he said "Yes"—I told him I held a warrant for his apprehension for uttering two cheques to Mr. Hart, who was then present; he made no answer—I said "You will have to go now to the station with me"—he said "No, don't take me, for I will get the money and pay him"—I took him into custody.
HENRY LEWIS . I am accountant at the Oxford Street branch of the National Bank—the prisoner opened an account there on 20th December—he paid in 55l., and subsequently, on the 21st, 20l.—his account was overdrawn on 30th January—I have the ledger here—it is not in my writing, it is the writing of Mr. Renaud, a clerk—without looking at the book, I can say that on 31st January there was no money to the prisoner's credit—he had no authority to overdraw his account.
Cross-examined. I am not the person who would give him authority to overdraw, the manager is—he is here.
THOMAS BERRY (Detective). I searched the prisoner's office, at 5, Billiter Street, and there found this letter. (This was dated 31st January, 1873, from the Bank manager', stating that the prisoner's account toas overdrawn 2l., and requesting his attention to it.)
MR. RIBTON submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury; the cheques being post-dated, it was a mere promise to pay in future, and there was no proof that at the time he made that promise he did not intend to fulfil it.
MR. GRIFFITHS contended that it was no promise, but a mere trick to obtain possession of the goods, he having no funds in the Bank to meet the cheques.
THE DEPUTY RECORDER. The false pretence must be of some existing fact; this is a mere breach of a promise to pay. If he had, handed the cheque on the day it is dated, that would have been evidence of a false pretence that he had authorised his bankers to pay it, and that he had money to pay, but a post-dated cheque cannot be presented till it is due, therefore it is a broken promise only, and no false pretence.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, APRIL 7TH.