CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
NINTH SESSION, HELD JULY 7TH, 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
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, July 7th, 1873, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR SYDNEY HEDLEY WATERLOW , KNT., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir HENRY SINGER KEATING, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, Esq., Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart., M.P., Sir SILLS JOHN GIBBONS , Bart., CHARLES WHETHAM, Esq., Sir FRANCIS WYATT TRUSCOTT, Knt., and JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., M.P., 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. NINTH 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, July 7th, 1873.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HOLLINGS the Defence.
PHILIP WILLIAM BLUNT BURGESS . I am one of the principals of the War Office—in April, 1872, a pension of 9l. 4s. 8d. a year was awarded to the prisoner, who had been employed at the laboratory in the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich—he ceased to be employed there, and that was the pension granted to him—in February of the present year he called at the War Office, and said he wanted to commute his pension—I furnished him with the conditions which are printed, and under which alone they are allowed to commute—I handed him this form to fill up, and I put his name on it in the corner before I gave it to him; it contains a list of questions required to be answered and a declaration required to be filled up—a few days afterwards he returned the paper, and it was then filled up as it is now (in this he represented himself as a single man)—I did not have any further conversation with him then—after the Pension Commutation Board had awarded that amount he would be referred to the Emigration Commissioners—the amount he was to receive was 134l. 4s. 6d.—we don't pay the commutation, we report to the National Debt Commissioners, who report to the Emigration Office, and the work is done there—I did not see the prisoner after he brought the paper back, that was some time in February—the declaration is dated the 4th—it would be between the 4th and the 12th—I did not see him again till 5th June—we had a communication from the Hastings Union—I have the regulations here under which the communication is granted, and these are the forms in pursuance of the regulations—it requires a man to state whether he is married or single, how many children, whether under sixteen, and dependent upon him.
Cross-examined. I did not see the form filled up—I was not acquainted with the prisoner's writing, but it is identified by the superintendent under whom he worked.
JOHN BRAITHWAITE GILL . I am a clerk in the office of the Colonial Board and Emigration Commissioners—on 7th March I received orders to pay 134l. 4s. 6d. commutation for William Berry—we received that amount from the National Debt Office on his behalf—on 7th March the prisoner called at my office—he asked me for an advance for outfit, and 9l. was given to him; that is the custom before we take the passage, and he was given a form which he filled up—he signed this receipt on 18th March, but previously to that he brought the form to the office filled up on 12th March—when he signed the receipt, the balance of the money, 95l., by a draft, was given to him—it was a draft on the Bank of Montreal, at Toronto—to the best of my belief the signature to the form and to the declaration is the same as the signature to the receipt I saw him write—the passage was taken for him. I did not see him again till the 5th June, when I had a communication, and the matter was reported to the War Office.
Cross-examined. The forms were not filled up in my presence—I only saw the receipt signed—the prisoner called at the Emigration Office on 5th June with a clerk from the Continental Bank, for the purpose of being identified as William Berry—the clerk asked me if I could identify the signature, and I saw Berry with him, and having had a previous communication from the War Office about the case I laid it before the Commissioners—Berry received 34l. 9s. 6d. for outfit and maintenance before he embarked, and 8l. odd was given to him—he would expend the money himself—I did not see him get the outfit—we don't see that he goes to Canada, only by the ship sailing; but the order which is given to him is only paid to him in Canada.
GEORGE HENRY HUMPHRIES . I am a clerk in the Continental Bank in the City—on 5th June the prisoner came to the Bank and presented a bill for 76l. 8s. 11d. on the Ontario Bank, Toronto—he wanted it discounted—the bank would not discount it without his being identified in some way, and I went with him to the office of the Emigration Commissioners—I was kept waiting about an hour, but they could not identify him—he came to our office the next day about 1 o'clock, an officer of police was there, and he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not say that Mr. Gill would know him—he did not mention Mr. Gill's name—he recognised him when he saw him—he said he would be known there.
(MR. POLAND put in the certificate of the prisoner's marriage, dated 6th June, 1858, with Emily Charlotte Hughes, at the Parish Church, Greenwich.)
ELIZA TUFNAIL . I live at 56, Napier Road, Deptford—I was present at the marriage of William Berry and Emily Charlotte Hughes—she is in Court—she has three children, and they are under sixteen years of age.
JOHN MARK BULL (City Detective Officer). I took the prisoner into custody on 6th June, at the Continental Bank, Lombard Street—I told him he was charged with making a false declaration, and stating that he was a single man when he was a married man and had a wife and three children living, and chargeable to the Hastings Union—he said "What am I to do, my wife won't live with me; I am anxious she should live with me, but we don't agree; I hope they will send for my wife"—I took this bill from his hand for 76l. 8s. 11d., from Ontario Bank, Toronto, directed to the Bank of Montreal, 27, Lombard Street, and endorsed "William Berry."
PHILIP WILLIAM BLUNT BURGESS (re-called). If he had represented himself as a married man, it would not have influenced the amount at all, it is on the express condition that he is allowed to commute that he takes his wife and children; we should not have allowed him to go unless he took his wife and children.
JOHN BRAITHWAITE GILL (re-called). If he was a married man with three children we should give him an allowance for them, and a corresponding amount to enable him to keep them till they started—we should not allow him to have money unless passages were engaged for him and his wife and children.
Witness for the Defence.
ANNA APPLEBY . I am the prisoner's sister—I am married and my husband is a painter—I saw my brother on his return from Canada on the Wednesday, as he was taken on the Thursday or Friday—he said he thought of going back again, and taking his wife and children—I was surprised to see him.
Cross-examined. I knew he was going to Canada, and that his wife and children were chargeable to the Hastings Union—I knew he was going without his wife and children—there are three children, under sixteen, I believe—when he went away I did not know he was coming back at all—I was surprised to see him back so soon.
GUILTY — Four Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Monday, July 7th, 1873.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
450. JAMES SIMMONS (21), and ARTHUR CLARKE (20), to stealing a handkerchief from the person of Henry Vaughan, they having both been previously convicted of felony.— Two Years' Imprisonment each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
451. FRANCIS SCAIFE , to stealing a bag of Ferdinand Baume , and also a portmanteau and other articles of David Wire Price, having been before convicted of felony.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MATTHEWS the Defence.
CHARLOTTE SMITH . My husband keeps the Stafford Hotel, Westbourne Villas—the prisoner was his barman till 31st October, or November lst—I usually go to bed first, and my husband sits up to count the money, but on 18th June we went up together, and at 1.30 I heard a noise under the bed, my husband got up and got a light, and I saw a man under the bed—I went into another room to fetch the barman, and when I returned my husband was holding the prisoner, saying "You vagabond, what do you come here for?"—he said "I have come for money"—he was given in custody.
my usual habit while he was there, but at this night I went to bed with my wife—she awoke me and I saw a man under the bed—I called him out—he came out and I recognised him, and said "What do you do here, you vagabond?"—he said "I am hard up, and I came for the money"—I took him in custody and sent for the police—I saw a revolver produced at the station, and said to the prisoner "Do you mean to say you would have used this weapon I"—he said "You may judge for yourself, it is loaded."
Cross-examined. I had been asleep.
CHARLES DAVEY (Policeman X 93). About 1. 45 on the morning of 18th June I was called to Mr. Smith's, and the prisoner was given into my custody—he said "It is all right, policeman, you can take me"—going to the station he said "I have a shilling and some coppers, you can take them, for it is all up with me now"—I searched him at the station and found a six-barrelled revolver loaded with cartridges, a dark lantern, some matches, and a pair of false whiskers—I found this box of cartridges at his lodging—it is a needle pistol and does not require a cap, every barrel had a charge in it.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRIFFITHS the Defence.
WILLIAM WESTON . I am a smith, of 20, Moreton Terrace, Pimlico—last Saturday week, about 12 o'clock at night, I was with a friend in Parliament Street, near Charing Cross—I felt a snatch at my chain, it did not break, and there was a second snatch—I turned round and caught Mahoney by the neck—I immediately received a blow on the ear from Kenningham, which caused the blood to flow from my ear until Monday—Mahoney kicked me across the nose, which gave me a black eye, which caused me considerable pain—when I caught hold of Mahoney, his hand was on the chain—I have not recovered it—they were given in custody.
Cross-examined. I had been drinking, but was not the worse for liquor—I began to drink about 7 o'clock, at the top of Great St. Andrew's Street—I did not know the name, it was not at a place called the Sheep's Head, there is no such place—I did not see the prisoners there—I did not call for some 4d. ale—I was drinking 6d. ale—my friend was with me and another man and his young woman—we had two pots—I will take my positive oath that the prisoners had nothing to drink there—I said to my friend "Well, we will get home, but I did not say anything, to my recollection, about going to Pimlico—I live at Pimlico—I did not ask anybody to help me home—I was capable of going home myself—I was walking arm in arm with my friend—we left the house about 10. 30—we had been drinking at intervals since 7 o'clock—we then walked to Drury Lane, but not to another public-house—this took place between Charing Cross and Scotland Yard.
Re-examined. I caught hold of Mahoney's arm, when he had hold of my chain—the blow almost stunned me—I hardly knew where I was.
GEORGE PARKHURST . I am a moulder, of 20, Morton Terrace—I was with Weston, and saw both the prisoners knocking into him—I saw him struck on the side of his head, Kenninghan was there, right in front of me, and I caught hold of him and held him till a policeman came—I had not seen the prisoners before, they were not in a public-house with us, that I know of—we had not been drinking with them—Weston did not ask them
to take him home to Pimlico-they did not say so when they were taken in custody.
Cross-examined. He let go of my arm when the, prisoners got hold of Ins chain—I told them at the Police Court about both the prisoners pitching into Weston—Weston got the least one on the ground—as soon as he lost his chain the big one stepped over and hit him directly—we had only been into one public-house, that was in Drury Lane, but I am, a stranger in Loudon—we went out about 5 o'clock and went to Seven Dials and Drury Lane—we went into no public-house except the one in Drury Lane—we drank about two pots—we only had the pot filled twice, we gave some of it away to a young friend who I am working with, and his young woman—we had no spirits, I do not like them—I heard the prisoners say at the Police Court that Weston asked them to take him home.
GEORGE COLLINS , (Policeman A 222). I heard cries of "Police!" went to Craig's Court, and saw the prisoners, the prosecutor, and Parkhurst struggling on the ground—Weston showed me his watch, the chain was gone—he gave the prisoners into my custody, they said that they did not, do it—the chain has not been found—the prisoners said nothing about a tall man till they were brought before Mr. Vaughan on Monday.
Cross-examined. There were a good few people round when I took them—Weston and his friend had both been drinking—Mr. Chester, who is. Kenningham's foreman, gives him a very good character—the neighbours speak well of Mahoney.
The Prisoners statements before the Magistrate, Kenningham says:—"At 10. 30 on Saturday night I went into the Sheep's Head Tavern, Great St Andrew Street; we called for some 4d. ale, and the prosecutor and his witnesses called for a pot of 6d. ale. After a little time they gave me and Mahoney a glass of ale each, and they drank out of our pot, then, they paid for another pot of 6d. ale, and it was shutting up time. The prosecutor asked me where I lived; I said 'Battersea, 'he said he lived in Pimlico. I said I would see the party home, and I took hold of his arm, and so did a tall man, and away we went. Just as we got to Trafalgar Square, the four of us were knocked down and this tall man ran away. He had hold of the left side of the prosecutor, and I had hold of the right. The witness knocked me down and gave me a severe kick in the ribs. The prosecutor had Mahoney down on the ground: they called out 'Police!' and the prosecutor said he had lost his watch. "Mahoney says: "I have nothing to say but just what Kenningham has said."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LYON conducted the Prosecution.
MATTHIAS BARNETT . I am a journalist, and live at Malcolm Lodge, Hammersmith—the prisoner was in my service as general servant—on Wednesday, 11th June, I left her alone in charge of the house—when I returned in the evening she was not there—I found the door locked and the key was not there—I had the occasion to go to my desk when I left, to get some money for my travelling expenses, I took out a 10l. note and a 5l. note, I left the 10l. note on top of the papers, and locked the desk, locking the 10l. note in it—when I unlocked the desk, on Saturday, the bolt did not fall back and it opened very easily—the desk was in the back dining room, and when I took out the 5l. note the prisoner was just outside the dining room door, and she saw
me with the note in my hand—I did not see her again till she was in custody.
GEORGINA BARNETT . I am the prosecutor's wife—I was away at the time, and received a telegram from my husband on Thursday morning, which brought me to London in three hours—I found a box in my wardrobe open, which I had left locked, and missed from it about 8s.—I opened the prisoner's box, and found a small smelling-bottle and a cup containing something—the prisoner had been there a month and a day—the lock of the box is now loose, it was not so when I left it—the prisoner never came back—I saw her on the following Monday, in King Street, Hammersmith—I followed her and seized her; she gave me a blow in the chest—I asked her for the key of the house; she made no reply—her clothes were in her box, but nothing of mine but a smelling-bottle.
WILLIAM BLAKE (Detective Officer T). On 16th June I took the prisoner and told her she was charged with stealing a 10l. note and 5s. worth of silver from a little box—she said "Oh, don't bother me, I know nothing about the money"—I received a key from the female searcher, and found that it fitted the area door.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not take it When I went back my master was in the house, but I would not go in, because I was afraid he would swear at me for leaving.
NOT GUILTY .
455. WILLIAM EFFIN RIPPIN (38), and JOHN GAVIN (39) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Charles Stuart Watkins, and stealing therein a cruet frame, a butter-dish, and other articles, his property.
MR. SIMS conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES BUTCHER (Detective Officer C). On the morning of 25th June I was in Cleveland Street, Fitzroy Square, aud saw the prisoner about 3. 40—I said to Gavin "Scottie, I want to see what you have got about you"—he resisted—I shoved him in a doorway, another detective helped me, and we handcuffed them both together—I then pulled open Scottie's waistcoat, and under the waistband of his trousers found this butter-dish—we went a little further on and he took out this article (produced), and gave it to me—I asked him how he came by it—he said "It is my property"—he said afterwards, at the station, that they had found it, and that if we had stopped the other two men who were ahead we should have had the bulk of the property.
Rippin. Q. Did not you put some articles in the doorway? A. No, you never saw me till I took hold of you.
PHILIP SHRIVES (Detective Officer C). I was with Butcher—I stopped Rippin—he became very violent—Verity came to my assistance, and we took him to the doorway where Butcher was struggling with Gavin—we handcuffed them together and I took these articles from under the waistband of his trousers, and took this silk umbrella from him.
MARY LONG . I am servant to Dr. Watkins, of 16, King William Street—on 24th June, at 11 o'clock, I locked up the house—the things produced were then safe, they are Dr. Watkin's property—I was called up about 4 o'clock in the morning and found the house had been broken into and the articles removed.
—I was called up at 3 o'clock, and found the dining-room door open, and the sideboard ransacked—there was a bludgeon on the table and a whiskey bottle—the back room was also ransacked.
FREDERICK CURLEY (Detective Officer). On the morning of 25th June I examined the premises and found that an entry had been made by the area grating—the house had been opened and a pane of glass broken.
They were both farther charged with former convictions, Rippin at this Court, in September, 1861, in the name of Sullivan, and Gavin in January, 1865, to which they both PLEADED GUILTY.
RIPPIN— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. GAVIN— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, July 8th, 1873.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
REBECCA GOLDSMITH PLEADED GUILTY MR. METCALFE Q. C. with MESSRS. STRAIGHT and GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
SIR FRANCIS TRUSCOTT . I am an Alderman of the City of London—here are six bills of exchange, purporting to bear my name as acceptor—none of them are written by me, or by my authority, they cannot possibly be, because I never gave a bill in my life—I never gave anybody authority to write my name—I never heard of the Goldsmiths, I never had any transactions with them in the way of jewellery—there was certainly no probability of my being married to Rebecca Goldsmith, I could not very well do it without committing bigamy.
CHARLES DUPIN DRAYSON . I carry on business with my father and brother, as diamond merchants and manufacturing jewellers, at 15 and 16, Brewer Street, Golden Square—I have known Montague Goldsmith about seven or eight years—I had known him as assistant to two or three of the large houses at the West End—I have not known Michael so long as his brother—I remember the business being started at 66, Conduit Street, Regent Street—about October, 1870, Montague called on me and made some communication to me in reference to the new business—from that time down to the time of the prosecution here, two Sessions ago, goods were supplied to that business at 66, Conduit Street—they were supplied on approbation, we allowed him to have them to show to customers; if he reported a sale to me it would be booked to him, and those that were not disposed of would be returned to us—some of the goods were paid for by him with acceptances that were afterwards met; I should say to the amount of about 4,000l., those were the earlier transactions—the amount of goods supplied to him which were not paid for and for which I had no security waft 7, 600l.—besides those he had about 7, 400l. worth on approbation, altogether, about 14,000l.—I was dealing with Montague—in April 1872, the transactions became larger, rather suddenly—and they continued to be of an extensive character, until I received a communication from Mr. Charman, that was in December, last year—I recollect a transaction about a pearl necklace in reference to Sir Francis Truscott.
MR. M. WILLIAMS objected to evidence of conversation which related to other bills
than the one charged, and referred to "Reg. v. Cooke" (8 Carrington and Payne, 586) and "Reg. v. Brown," (2 Foster and Finlaison, 559). The COURT however admitted the evidence.) The necklace was of the value of 3, 500l.—on 22nd October, he came and said he thought he had a customer whom it would suit—he did not on that occassion say who the customer was; a day or two afterwards he did; he only asked me to let him have it to show, he took it away with him—he afterwards came and saw me again about it—he then said "My customer is Sir Francis Truscott"—he said that he liked it very much, and he thought he should be able to sell it to him—he said he could only see him early in the morning, or late in the evening—I had before that requested that as it was a valuable necklace he should take it away in the morning and bring it back at night—he asked me to allow him to have it altogether for a few days; I consented and he took it away with him—he called upon me either the last day of October or the beginning of November, and told me that he had sold the necklace to Sir Francis Truscott—he said that he had seen Sir Francis on several occasions in reference to the necklace—in November he called again and said that he had a chance of selling some jewellery to Sir Anthony Rothschild, that Sir Anthony's daughter was going to be married, and asked if I could let him have some goods to take and show to him—I promised to get some; the goods he required were out at other shops—he ultimately had goods for the purpose mentioned, to the amount of 9,000l.—out of these he afterwards returned goods to the amount of 3, 840l., leaving in his hands goods to the amount of 4, 500l., amongst those things there was a brilliant bracelet valued at 1, 650l.—he afterwards came and said that he had been to Gunnersbury, but had not succeeded in selling anything—some few days afterwards he called again and told me that he had sold the bracelet to Sir Sills Gibbons for 1, 950l.—he said "I have seen Sir Sills Gibbons and he has given me these two bills in payment for the bracelet"—these are the two bills (produced) for 975l. each—they purport to be accepted by Sir Sills John Gibbons—he handed one of them to me, but afterwards took them both away to enter in his bill-book—I was to have it again, and he said that I had better place it to the credit of his account—I was to send for it when I required it, and credit him with the amount—a few days afterwards I sent my cousin for it, and it came to me—this is the bill, at four months—(This was doted 20th Novemberf 1872, drawn by Montague Goldsmith on Sir Sills J. Gibbons, Bart., 13, Upper Bedford Place, for 975l., at four months and accepted Coutts, S. J. Gibbons, endorsed by Montague Goldsmith)—this is the bracelet (produced)—I afterwards found it at Thompson's, the pawnbroker's, in Queen's Road, Bayswater—in the beginning of December Montague Goldsmith came and said that there was to be a double wedding in the Pakenham family, and he asked me to make some drawings for bridesmaid's lockets—I made the drawings, he called and saw them and took them away with him—he afterwards brought them back, and said he had got the order for them—I could not say that he said he had seen any of the Pakenhams—he said there was a mistake in one of the drawings, which I had to correct—there was something wrong in an initial letter, and I had to make another drawing—about 5th December he called about something that Colonel and Captain Pakenham wanted—I could not say whether he said that he had seen them—he said that an expensive present would be required for each of the brides, that one he thought would be a head ornament, bracelet, locket, and earrings, all in diamonds,
and the other would be in pearls and diamonds, handing me this paper with the prices—he brought this paper with him—I should say it is his handwriting—it is either his or his brother's—I have often seen him write—I think it is his—the only thing I had in that particular way was a black pear and diamond suite—he had that—I had not the plain diamonds—about 16th or 17th December I received a communication from Mr. Charman, in consequence of which I stopped an order that I was then in the course of executing for Montague—that was an order for the bridesmaid's lockets, and the pearl and diamond head ornament—down to that time Montague had been very often in the habit of coming to my premises, sometimes two or three times a week, but after that time I never saw him again until he was in custody—I saw Michael once afterwards, at our premises in Brewer Street—previous to that I had seen Michael quite as often as Montague—it was always in reference to the business in Conduit Street.
Cross-examined. I trusted Montague with property to the amount of something like 15,000l.—it was on sale or return—we marked the price on all the articles—if he only sold for that price there would be no profit to him—his profit was anything that be could make over and above the marked price—we have no shop; we entrust property of value to other persons to sell, on the footing I have described—I knew of Montague going to Baden, in September, 1872—I know nothing of his sister going—I should think he had goods of mine in his possession at that time worth 5,000l.—he told me that he was going to endeavour to sell some of it at Baden, and other places—he returned afterwards with the jewellery, which was returned to us—I don't think he sold anything—I have never seen Rebecca—I have seen her once in the shop, that is all—I did not see her subsequently to finding out that this was a forged bill—Montague paid us something like 4,000l. in bills, which were duly honoured, from time to time, taking up those bills, and getting fresh goods from us—before he started in this business I had known him as an assistant to Harry Emanuel and others, E. and E. Emanuel, and Metcalfe and Co.
Cross-examined. I treated entirely with Montague in this matter—I negotiated exclusively with him in Conduit Street.
Re-examined. When I say I negotiated exclusively with Montague, I am speaking of the person to whom I trusted the goods—Michael has often come to me for goods on approbation, but I looked to Montague for payment—I frequently had conversation about the goods with one or the other.
ALFRED DRAYSON . I assist my uncle and cousin, who are jewellers, in Brewer Street—the prisoners have been to our premises on several occasions, and sometimes I took articles of jewellery to their shop—on 22nd October I took some goods, which were for Alderman Truscott—I saw either Montague or Michael, I don't remember which—on the 4th November, after the order for the wedding supposed to be in Sir Anthony Rothschild's family, I took jewellery worth 9,000l. to the shop, and amongst those goods was the bracelet which has been produced—Montague told me after that he had sold the bracelet—he did not mention to whom—he said he had sold it for 1, 950l.—I called subsequently, on several occasions, and got back some of those goods—they used to say the goods were out at customers', on approval, if they did not return them; they both said that—I tried subsequently to get other articles back, I mean I asked for them—on the 7th December Montague came to our place and I asked him for some earrings, and he said "You
had better write up to Conduit Street," he believed they were sold—he said "You had better write up, Michael will know"—he endorsed the note with a few words to Michael—I wrote and he wrote also—it was written in his presence—the endorsement is "Dear Mike, I think the pair earrings 47, 300, 2, 500 you will find are sold to Lady Truscott or somebody else; if that is so, please say. Yours, Montague Goldsmith"—this is the answer written by Michael "Earrings, 47, 300, 2, 500 sold. Yours faithfuIly, Montague Goldsmith"—about the 20th December we had a communication from Messrs. Charman, and in consequence of that I went to 66, Conduit Street, the prisoner's shop—I saw Michael, I told him we were about to take stock, and I should like him to clear up the things as near as he could—at that time they had a great many articles of ours—Michael said "Yes," and he returned me the cheaper things, the more expensive he made the excuse that they were out at customers'—on 21st November Montague called in Brewer Street and told me he had sold the bracelet for 1, 950l.—he saw my cousin with reference to that, but subsequently I received a bill for 975l.—I took a note from my cousin to Montague for the bill, he turned to Michael, and said "Give me that bill out of the safe"—Michael went to the safe, and handed the bill to Montague, and Montague made a remark about it being torn at the time, and then he handed it to me in an envelope—that is the bill the subject of this indictment—I took it back to my cousin—I did not see any other bills at the time he took this one from the safe.
DR. LOCKHART CLARKE . I am a physician—I have seen the bills purporting to bear my name—they are not in my handwriting, nor written by my authority—I never had any transactions with the Goldsmiths in any way; I did not know there were such persons in existence until this inquiry.
SIR GEORGE BELL, BART . I am a Lieuteuant-General in the army—I have seen the bill that purports to bear my acceptance; that is not my signature nor the least like it, nor by my authority—I never signed a bill in my life, and never will—I don't know anything about the Goldsmiths.
GEORGE SCOVELL . These bills are not accepted by me or by my authority—I never heard of the Goldsmiths before, and had no jewellery transactions with them—I never accepted a bill in my life, and therefore I never paid one.
HENRY CHARMAN . I am a wholesale jeweller and manufacturer, at Beak Street—I dealt from time to time with the Goldsmiths, commencing in April, 1872—the first transaction was 460l. and that was ultimately paid—the transactions got larger until December, and in that month the amount outstanding was about 8, 500l.—some of that was on approbation, and some had been charged, it having been suggested that they had been sold—our mode of carrying on business is exactly the same as Mr. Drayson's; goods are sent on approbation, and if the customer is suggested by the Goldsmiths it is charged to them—there were some goods supplied on the suggestion of a double wedding in the Pakenham family—the date of that transaction was the 5th of December, 1872; to the best of my recollection, Montague Goldsmith came about it—he said that he wanted two suites, diamond and pearl—we could not supply the pearl one, but he had one pearl object away with him, and the suite of diamonds, earrings, bracelet, head ornament, and so on; that was on the suggestion by him that there was to be a double wedding, and it was for that purpose—I did not hear of the name until a later date the value of the goods supplied for that purpose
was about 4,000l. or 5,000l.—some of those goods were returned and the residue remained in the hands of the Goldsmiths—they were repeatedly sent for—my man went for them, I did not myself—some short time afterwards Mr. Flower, who is in the employ of Ortner & Houle, showed me one of those articles and made a communication to me, and on the following morning I went to the Goldsmiths—I saw Montague and Michael—I said I wished to have the goods—that he had on approbation—Montague said "I am sorry not to be able to return them; I have been several times to the customer respecting them, and I have an appointment at 11.30 to see her to get her determination"—I told him I had seen a portion of the goods, and I considered it a gigantic swindle, and I should like to go to the party who had my goods—he made no objection to it—we got a cab and went to Portman Square; we went all round the square, and afterwards stopped at Lady Pakenham's house, No. 40—the house was shut up, the door-step was not cleaned, and there was only a charwoman in the house—I then said I thought it was a farce which had lasted long enough, and I desired the cabman to drive me to my office, in Beak Street—Montague accompanied me; I then sent for my solicitor, and in our presence Montague said that it was capable of explanation, and he thought he could explain it to us if we went to Conduit Street—we went there, but the explanation not being forthcoming, and after looking at the books and so forth, I could make nothing of it, but he still said that an explanation would be given—I then said "Pending the explanation, give me some security for the amount of my debt"—he said he had no security to offer me unless it was the bills of customers for the articles sold, and on my desiring to see them he asked Michael to give him a packet of bills out of the safe—Montague handed me these bills, after having endorsed them in my presence—they are the bills which have been shown to the various gentlemen—I took those bills to my office in Beak Street—I sent them to Coutts's, where several were made payable, and ascertained very shortly that they were all forgeries—there are sixteen of them—there are two in the name of Horace Lloyd, of Tiverton Hall, Devonshire—it has been ascertained that there is no such person—during that interview I asked to see the books, and they were given to me—I looked at the ledger; it is not in the same state that I saw it; undoubtedly it has been written up since—I did not look at it very particularly, but at the time I saw it I did not find anything like business transactions—I wanted to find evidence that there was business done, and I could not find any—there did not appear to be any legitimate business in the books at all—I said "It appears you have never done a shilling's worth of business in your life"—I did not see Montague again after that until he was brought in custody to this country—a warrant was issued on the following morning—I saw Michael on two or three occasions, and he gave me a number of pawnbroker's duplicates affecting my jewellery, and through the medium of those duplicates and other ways, I have traced a large portion of my jewellery, to the amount of thousands—I have not been able to trace any legitimate transaction at all—after I had received the duplicates, I saw Michael again, and I was taken by him and his father, and I saw Rebecca—after that Rebecca was given into custody, but not by me, by Drayson's, and also Michael; they were tried here the Sessions before last.
Cross-examined. I think the last amount entrusted to Montague was the largest, that was something under 5,000l.—I was not aware that in September,
1872, he and his sister went to Baden for the purpose of selling jewellery—he did not have a large quantity in September, 1872, he had none that I am aware of—Montague did not say after we had been to Portman Square, and offered me the bills as security, that he saw there was something wrong—he did not say "I can see there is something wrong, and I will give you those bills to secure you against loss, pending inquiry"—he simply said it was capable of explanation, and would I go to Bayswater and see a lady who was ill—he did not tell me who the lady was—I found out subsequently that his father lived at Bayswater, and Rebecca lived there too—I did not ask him who the lady was—after I had taken out the warrant for Montague's arrest I met his father at the Great Western terminus, and proceeded with him to Colville Terrace, Bayswater—I saw Rebecca there—I was told that she had been ill in bed, and I saw her in the dining-room on the sofa—I don't think a medical man was there when I went, but he was there while I was there—her mother and father and two brothers were there—I would not swear whether Michael was one of them; in that case there were three, I think—I put some questions to Rebecca with regard to the goods, on being invited to do so—I enumerated a few of the goods, but I did not know what I was going for, and I could only remember a few that were on approbation—in consequence of what she said I recovered a portion of my property—I recovered some from Morris Moses—I drew on a piece of paper, and in consequence of what she said, I communicated with Messrs. White, of Great Portland Street, and recovered a portion of my property from them—I asked her questions with regard to the bills, but I don't remember how the questions were put, she offered some explanation about them—she mentioned the name of Mills, of Oxford Street, to me; he is a jeweller, but she had no transactions with him, except leaving a brooch with him, which was not sold, and was returned to her—she made her statement perfectly voluntarily—she made a compendious statement with reference to these bills; if it was in reply to a question, it was not a direct question—she was given into custody, but not by me—I think the conversation was on 18th or 19th December, 1872; at that time there was a warrant out against Montague—I should think it had been out three or four days; it was three or four days after I had seen Montague for the last time.
Re-examined. The duplicates given up by Michael referred to Drayson's property, not mine—I sent my assistant after the property, and he will be able to tell you about it.
SIR SILLS JOHN GIBBONS, BART . I am one of the Aldermen of the City of London—I never heard of the Goldsmiths at all before this inquiry—it is perfectly untrue that I bought a diamond bracelet worth 1, 600l.—it is not true that I gave these two bills, and it is not my signature and does not bear the slightest resemblance to it, nor did I sign these bills; I never had a banking account at Messrs. Coutts's—it is not true that Montague saw me about the bills—I knew nothing of them till this inquiry.
GEORGE HARRIS . I am assistant to Messrs. Charman's—during the time that goods were being supplied to Conduit Street I was frequently in the habit of going backwards and forwards there—I recollect the transaction with reference to the double marriagein the Pakenham family—I had a conversation with Montague Goldsmith about that order—he told me he wanted a pearl suite and a diamond suite for a double wedding—in consequence of its being such a valuable order I told him he must see Mr. Charman himself—he said I was not to take notice to any one in the trade, in case they should find his
customer—Michael was present at that time and heard the conversation—I had frequently seen Michael on the premises and also in Beak Street, and I had had conversation with him about this business, and I banded him goods from time to time on approbation—he appeared to be taking an active part in the business—later in the day, when I had the conversation with Montague, he came and saw Mr. Charman—I have Seen eight articles produced by various jewellers, and amongst them there is a diamond bracelet—Mr. Herbert produced it to me; that was at Mr. Drayson's—the other articles I saw belonged to Mr. Charman.
ALFRED DRAYSON (re-examined). The bracelet, worth 1, 600l., and said to be sold to Sir Sills John Gibbons, I got from Mr. Thompson, the pawnbroker, and it was obtained by one of the tickets given up by Michael—I did not take the duplicate any where—the bracelet was handed into Court and we had it from the Court—my cousin first went to Thompson's shop.
DANIEL DAVEY (Detective Sergeant). I apprehended the prisoners Rebecca and Lewis—on 21st February I communicated with Sergeant Marchmont, and sent him to the City, and subsequently I received Michael Goldsmith into custody at Marlborough Street Police Station—I found a pocket-book on him, containing three bills of acceptance—they were given into Court at the last trial, two were drawn by Montague and one by Michael—I don't know the handwriting at all—a warrant was taken out for the apprehension of Montague on 2nd December, but it did not come into my hands until the 29th—on 30th December I traced him to Paris, where I lest him—I could get no further trace, and I returned again to London—subsequently I received information, which caused me to send to the Foreign Office, and communicate with the authorities in Lisbon, and eventually I apprehended Montague at Lisbon, and he came over in custody—he made no communication tome on the way—we had scarcely any conversation.
Witness for the Defence.
REBECCA GOLDSMITH . I am at present a prisoner in Newgate—I was convicted here at the Session before last, in conjunction with my brother Michael—I have looked at the acceptances purporting to be the acceptances of Sir Sills John Gibbons—I wrote these acceptances—I cannot remember whether I afterwards gave them to my brother Montague, or to my brother Michael, but I think it was to my brother Montague, my brother Michael being present—the acceptances to these other bills are all mine—I cannot remember when I handed the first one to my brother—I was induced to hand them to him because I had entered into an affair my brother knew nothing about, and I tried every effort in my power to keep from him the mischief I had brought upon him—I held no position at all with regard to the business in Conduit Street—I received articles of jewellery from my brother from time to time—the business in Conduit Street was my brother Montague's, my brother Michael was clerk—oh, I remember, it was Mr. George Scovell's bill that I first accepted—I found out the names and addresses of the people merely by looking at the Directory—I represented to my brother when I gave him the bills that I had received them from the different people for payment of the jewellery—Lovell was the first customer I told him I received them from—I told him that he was an old gentleman married to a very young wife, who had not made her any handsome presents
yet, but that he intended to do so—in consequence of that he entrusted me first with a small pearl ring and a turquoise bracelet—I took them to Mr. Thompson, in Queen's Road, Bayswater, and received 12l. on them—I afterwards returned to my brother and told him that that was the amount I received from the old gentleman, and that if he kept it he would name the time when he would settle for it—a few days afterwards I pretended that I had been to see the old gentleman, and that I had left the bracelet with him to approve of it or return it to me—I afterwards said that Mr. Lovell had kept it and would pay me at Christmas, when he might require other jewellery—I afterwards obtained a diamond bracelet, that was the first, a pair of earrings and a brooch—I took the diamond bracelet to Mr. Jeck's, of Bayswater Road, he sold it to a private lady living at Kensington, and received 300l., which I handed to Michael, who was the only one in the office—I said that it was worth 600l., that I had received 300l., and was to receive the other 300l. in July—when the payment was about to come due for this jewellery, which I had already sold, I told my brother that this old gentleman would introduce me to another gentleman, named Walcot, living at Kensington—my brother was perfectly satisfied and trusted me with a diamond bracelet, some diamond earrings, three rings, sapphire, ruby, and brilliant, that was all—but, my Lord, will you allow me to add one thing, my prosecutors have believed I went away—and I say that I wish not to put one word against this because I have wrought all this mischief, and I wish to suffer for it, though I have given them a perfect clue to it, and I am willing to tell them every mortal thing—that has such an immensity to do with this affair—I sold property from time to time and always paid cash to my brother—I never asked him to draw any bills—I was getting rather anxious when he allowed me to have so much jewellery, and I think he gave me the bills in blank—I afterwards wrote the acceptances upon them, and as I gave each to my brother I represented that they came from the different people whose names were on them—met some of the bills from time to time—when I found that a bill was coming due, I told my brother of fresh introductions I had had from the old gentleman and raised money and so paid off the old forged bills—I told my brother that if he would give me two acceptances, Sir Sills Gibbons would accept them—previous to that I had said that I had received an introduction from Sir Benjamin Phillips—he also is an Alderman of the City of London—I said what Sir Sills Gibbons wanted, and my brother furnished me with the jewellery—it was in return for that jewellery that I gave him the fresh acceptance—my brother had no reason to believe that that was a forged instrument—the representations I made with regard to Sir Francis Truscott's bill were very similar to what I made with Sir Sills Gibbons' bill, and my brother entrusted me with a diamond bracelet and earrings—I do not mind stating what I did with them because they have come round to the prosecutors, I took them to Mr. Attenborough's—the whole sum I have received from Mr. Attenborough is 1, 200l.—I gave that to my brother—I did not lead him to suppose that it was anything but a genuine document—with regard to Sir Anthony Rothschild, I represented that as I had done so much business and transacted it so well, as he thought, if he would procure more jewellery from Messrs. Charman I would take it to him—I went with my sister Julie to Sir Anthony Rothschild—I made no representation to my brother about the jewels for the Pakenham wedding, I did not wish to tell him what I had done—I wished to meet this bill and then I would have
told him—I did state that there was to be a double wedding in the family, and I gave him the names out of my own head—this was to meet one of the bills in the name of Sir John Gibbons which had been passed away and which was becoming due—I found out where Lady Pakenham lived by looking in the Directory—my little sister Miriam has been with me when I have done so, she was with me when I found out Sir Sills Gibbons' address in the Directory, I told her I had forgotten where Sir Sills Gibbons lived—she did not know that I was forging these names—I made the same representations with regard to the other forged bills—when I was convicted two months ago it was of misdemeanour—I have never been tried for forgery—I remember being ill in bed in Bayswater, and remember my brother Montague coming home and telling me that there was something terribly wrong in the matter, and saying would I give him an explanation about it; I declined that because I wished not only to keep from my poor brother, but from my family, the mischief I have brought upon them—he passed the bills away to Mr. Charman, and then I told him "I have ruined you"—I remember when I was lying ill on the sofa and the medical man being there, Mr. Charman coming—Mr. Charman said the whole truth as to the affair, that I had carried out the whole of it and that my brother was innocent, and Mr. Charman refused to touch me although I offered myself to him—he asked me who signed them, and I said "I did"—that intimation was made to me by Mr. Charman before any intimation was made by me, and Mr. Charman said "My poor girl I shant think of touching you, I only want to arrest your brother Montague"—I said "No, no, Mr. Charman, if any one is to suffer, don't arrest the innocent, let the guilty suffer"—I have had no means of communicating with my brother Montague since I was in the dock; the Governor has recused me times out of number to see him—until I saw him here this morning, I have not seen him since he left England—my brother Michael, who was convicted on the same indictment as myself, was from first to last the servant of my brother Montague—I was taken in custody first about six weeks after, I had seen Mr. Charman, and subsequently my brother Michael was taken, and my brother Lewis—Lewis was acquitted—Mr. Charman stated at the interview that my brother Michael was present, but that is false.
COURT. He has not said so to-day. The Witness. My Lord, I thank you for that, that, has reminded me of something I wish to say; Mr. Charman took out a piece of paper from his pocket and read these words: "What do you think? I think your brother would have signed his death-warrant by passing away those forged bills."
MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. In September, 1872, do you remember going to Baden, with your brother Montague? A. Yes; he had between 20,000l. and 30,000l. worth of jewellery in his possession—we were at Baden, a month or five weeks—we brought back all that jewellery—I took care of it almost the whole time travelling—we did not sell any, although—we were promised—from first to last on my having introductions to the old man, in the statements I made to him up to the time the Pakenham wedding discovery was made in Portman Square, I always represented to my brother that this was a genuine transaction, and that these were genuine documents.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I was not the only person conducting the business; nothing of the kind—my brothers Montague and Michael did so also—they never went to any of my customers—I cannot tell you what
customers they did go to—they went to the Baroness Lionel de Rothschild several times, also to Mr. Costan, and Mr. Wears a very good customer, and Mr. Boot—my brother Montague has been with me to Lady Pakenham's—we went to the left-hand side of the square—he did not go into the house, or up to the house—he did not go near the house with me—I should not think he could see the house—I really cannot tell you how close he went—he generally went with me in the cab to Portman Square—Conduit Street is not very far from Portman Square—we always went in a cab—I have been twice by myself, and once with my brother—the cab was stopped on the left side of the square—Lady Pakenham lives on the right side, but it is on the left coming from Conduit Street—Lady Pakenham's is on the west—you are trying to confuse me, but that you cannot do—the cab was stopped on the opposite side to Lady Pakenham's house—I used to get out and walk across the square—there is a confectioner's, and when I have been there I went in there—I don't say that I enjoyed myself there—I think it is in Orchard Street—my brother enquired the name of the people in Portman Square—I always told him that my customers were under the impression that while I was transacting business they were equally doing so, and that is the reason I objected to my brother coming near the house—Michael did not go with me at all—I told Michael, and I told Montague that I objected to his coming to the house—that applies to other places also—Mrs. Lovel was the name I gave—there is no such person—I gave Harley Street to my brother as the address of the old gentleman with the young wife—I expected that to be in the book, and the full statement is in the books, and as I have sold the property the full statement has been put in the book—I do not know which book—not into that book, but into another book similar—it was not put into a similar book to this—it is one of the books which Mr. Straight held up just now—you will find Lovell, of Harley Street—I went half a dozen times certainly to the Baroness Lionel de Rothschild—you will find that in the book, if it is not taken out—here is "Baroness Lionel de Rothschild, 3l."—she bought very little, but she promised to buy more—Mr. Boot's account is 20l. and 9l.—I do not know whether it is paid, or whether it is not—I never interfered with what ray brother did—I did not say that I was going to be married, nothing of the kind; it is spite on the part of the prosecution—I said that it was family jewellery,. and with no untruth—I said that my mother would pay the money—I did not say that I wanted to get the trousseau for my wedding—Mr. Metcalfe, you may try to confound me, but you never will; you can't, you can't: I am in a very cruel position, but I will see, if I can, that my innocent brother is—I am no coward—I cannot tell you when these books were bought—my brother commenced business in November, 1871, as near as I can remember—I am positive I never pawned anything before that—I afterwards sold property to different people, and raised money on it—I doubt very much, if Messrs. Drayson & Charman's books are gone into, whether 20,000l. is the amount of what I sold and pawned—I can't say whether the transactions amounted to 25,000l., they may have—I was not aware that my brother Michael was pawning—I pawned goods at Mr. Rowley's—I have already stated that I did not know that my brother Michael had pawned goods there—I know Grant's—I don't know that Michael pawned there, or Montague either—I can't tell you how long it was before I saw any books—there were certainly books before 1872, but not books like this one—I can't tell you when I first saw this book; I will not
swear that it was after October, 1872—I don't recollect what Rowley said, but my brothers kept their books on lined paper, so that when they wished to procure the books all the statements on that paper would go into them—it is no use asking me what I don't understand—do not call me a lady of business; I have made a mistake, that is all I have done—they always used lined paper, something like this (produced)—Mr. Montagu Williams appeared for my brother—on that occasion I heard Mr. Giffard, who was instructed for me, say, in addressing the Jury, that if Montague Goldsmith, whether he was carrying on business for himself or not would not have added a feather's weight to his evidence, and that if he wanted to raise money upon them he must in some way conceal his identity—I could not stop Mr. Giffard in what he said—if I had known the defence that was going to be set up for me I should have objected to it—from the very first, when my brother was absent, they put everything upon him, that is exactly what has been done—you are right in saying that in order to extricate me on the last trial, every mortal thing was put upon Montague, who was absent—Mr. Williams did not know it as far as Mr. Giffard did—I told my brother that if he would give me bills drawn, Sir Sills Gibbons would accept them—these bills are drawn by Montague, in his writing, but the signature and endorsement I know nothing at all about—every mortal one of these is in my handwriting, and some of them were written with my left hand, this one (selecting one) was written with my left hand—when Montague told me he had paid over all the bills to Mr. Charman, I immediately told him about my conduct; that was on the morning he came home to me and found me ill in bed—it is an untruth that having said that he immediately left me and took himself off; he stayed in England, and he was in the house when Mr. Charman came—he was in our house in Colville Terrace eight or nine days—I stayed there till it was absolutely necessary to give up the house—my mother and my sister went with me to Maldon, as Mrs. and Miss Ward—my brother Montague had left England the day before Christmas Day—I knew that a warrant was out against him, and so would any sister who knew she had brought all this trouble upon him—I did not know that a warrant was out or to be taken out, I won't admit that—he went away, and my brother Michael remained in the house after my brother and sister had left—I was taken before they could find him, but he was always about Regent Street—I was taken five weeks before him, and he was at Colville Terrace—I had to leave because the house could not be kept up any longer; the furniture had to be sold off—I don't know where my brother went—I know Mr. Alfred Drayson—I saw him bring the jewellery which was to be shown to Sir Lionel Rothschild—my sister was there—I did not say to him "My brothers never allow me to see the jewellery; I should like very much to see it," nothing of the kind.
Reexamined. From first to last during the whole of the interviews with my attornies I never gave the slightest instructions to cast the blame on Montague and protect me; I have always said that I would rather suffer twenty years in a right cause, than that my innocent brother should suffer a single day—I always represented that—I have said that I was only convicted of a misdemeanour, but I am now aware that forgery is a felony—I have not been sentenced yet.
GEORGE LEWIS . I am one of the firm of Lewis & Lewis, solicitors, of Ely Place—on the last trial we acted as solicitors for Rebecca and Lewis Goldsmith—we are no longer acting in this matter—I saw Rebecca before
she was arrested, and took from her the statement of the whole of the facts she has detailed in Court to-day—she said that her brother Montague was entirely innocent, that she had committed the fraud, and that Montague Goldsmith was at home at her father's house, and I saw him there after Mr. Charman had been there—I saw him several times after the warrant was issued against him, and it was against his wish, I am bound to say it in the interests of truth, that he left the country—he was desirous of staying and living in England, and he asked my advice; I said that it was impossible to say what a Jury might say; that Rebecca might, he believed, or might not, and I said "If you stop, you must take the consequences, whether you are rightly or wrongly convicted; if you don't stop you will not have any trial to undergo"—it was on the pressure of his brother and family that he left the country rather than stand his trial, and not before he had told me several times that nothing should induce him to leave the country.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. He undertook to surrender; it happened in this way, Mr. Richards was acting for Mr. Charman, and I gave Mr. Richards our opinion that Montague was innocent, and said "Montague is perfectly prepared to surrender, does Mr. Charman wish to prosecute a man who is innocent?" Mr. Richards said "I will see Mr. Charman"—it was contrary to Montague's wish to go away—I instructed Mr. Giffard, Rebecca was his client—her instructions to me were to take it upon herself—she pleaded not guilty, and was defended, and Mr. Giffard made a very strong appeal to the Jury, as he always does—he put it, in my hearing, that Montague was the real culprit—my instructions to Mr. Giffard were in accordance with the facts, that it would appear that Rebecca was the guilty party; my instructions were also to defend Rebecca, and put the whole facts before the Jury, to take their verdict one way or the other upon them; Mr. Giffard advised me that if the facts were such as they were represented, Rebecca had no defence to the matter; upon that I saw Rebecca in the dock, and told her Mr. Giffard's advice to me on the matter—she said "Mr. Lewis, I am the guilty party, I am perfectly prepared to take the consequences, my brothers are entirely innocent," and she wanted me to say so to Mr. Giffard; I said nothing to save her from being convicted, and it was after considerable pressure on my part, and telling her she should take advantage of what the law allowed—Mr. Giffard acted on my instructions, and I must take the responsebility of the instructions I gave him—it was not said at that time that the whole guilt rested with Montague; from the very first Rebecca has said that the whole guilt rested with her.
Re-examined. From the very first she has always said the same story that she has told to-day, and when I communicated to her that Montague was arrested, I never saw such a sight.
MIRIAM GOLDSMITH . I am a sister of Rebecca Goldsmith—I remember her making a statement to my brother Montague about Lady Pakenham—I do not recollect all the words, but she said that instead of selling the things to Lady Pakenham, she had pawned them—I cannot remember it word for word, it was too exciting a scene for me—this was when Mr. Charman called at my brother's office and accused him—I remember going to my brother's office, and seeing my brother Michael—I was there to make a statement, and heard Montague say to Michael "For heaven's sake, come here, Mr. Charman is here accusing me of all sorts of swindling, and I don't know
what to make of it"—I subsequently went home with Montague to Rebecca—Rebecca was very excited at first, and we could not get her to tell us what she really had done, but by degrees we got to understand from her that she had pawned and sold the jewellery at different places—Montague said "How about the bills, Rebecca; are they false, too?"—she said "Yes, they are false, it is all false"—she said that she had heard she would be charged, and she very much wished to make it known to my brother a few days previously.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I and my brother Montague were present, and Rebecca, who was in bed—Montague lived in the house in Colville Terrace—I think we had lived there four years, and Rebecca and Michael, and myself also—Montague and Rebecca very often went out in the morning together; they sometimes returned together in a cab, and sometimes they walked—this was at Bayswater—Rebecca used not to wear jewellery, only a watch and chain—I think she had one ring; I mean that she wore it to see how it looked; I have often done that myself—I have not seen her do it with a good deal of the jewellery; it was very rarely she had any occasion to do so—Montague sometimes used to bring anything to me, but not Michael—I have seen Montague with articles of jewellery, but not often—one morning, when we were going to the Baroness Lionel de Rothschild, I had some—I very frequently went into the shop—the jewellery was in the safe; both Montague and Michael had keys—Rebecca had no key—I was present when some jewellery was brought in, which I subsequently heard was intended for someone—Rebecca may have looked at it, but she did not ask to—I looked at it, and was very much pleased—I said, in Rebecca's presence, that my brother did not allow me to look at it—I saw books in the office, and sometimes I saw my brother writing in them; they had lines in them, and some red lines—I did not know anything about these transactions—I went with my mother to Maldon, and was called Miss Ward for the time.
Re-examined. I think I am twenty-one years old—I am still living with my mother, and act under her instructions.
JULIA GOLDSMITH . I am a sister of the prisoner Rebecca—I went with her to Sir Antony Rothschild's office in the City—I went in, and Rebecca, in my presence, solicited an order—Sir Antony Rothschild, I think, spoke most—he did not give an order; he would not make up his mind—he sent us to Lady Rothschild, and said that what she chose he would accede to; he did not care much what was taken.
MONTAGUE GOLDSMITH— GUILTY On the Second Count .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
REBECCA GOLDSMITH— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MICHAEL GOLDSMITH— NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, July 8th, 1873.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
—MURPHY** Five Years' in Penal Servitude. KING* Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
460. WILLIAM COHEN (18) , to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Swann, and stealing 4 lbs. beef and 9 lbs. pork, and 1s. 8d., his goods, having been before convicted in November, 1872— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
461. GEORGE DRURY (52) , to three indictments for stealing metal pots from various persons, having been before convicted, in June 1871— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MESSRS. BESLEY and WILLOUGHBY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE BROWN the Defence.
HENRY ARLETT . I keep the Richmond Arms, Blundell Street, Caledonian Road—on 9th May my servant Lewis absconded, and I missed 2 gold watches, 3 gold chains, an Albert chain, some rings, seals, silver spoons, money, and old foreign coins; value altogether 50l.—they were locked up in a chest of drawers—one of the gold watches was chased, and had a seal attached—I was present in the front room of the prisoner's father's house when the detective, in the prisoner's presence, had a conversation with his father; the father said "Very well, if I had not been a gentleman why did you ask me to have something to drink?"—the constable said "You recollect you told me you sold a coat to a young man you believed to be Walter Blewitt"—the father said "When he was there buying the coat he pulled out a chain and a chased watch"—the constable asked him if he would have anything to drink and he refused—from the description of the watch I should say that it wad my daughter's watch—I prosecuted the young man, and he pleaded guilty at the Sessions.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was a witness for the prosecution at the Police Court—I heard him sworn, and heard him deny on his oath that he had purchased the articles—his evidence was drawn from him—the detective gave him to understand at once that he was suspected, and he offered to let him go all over the house to search, and gave him every facility.
Re-examined. It was after 15th May that the Magistrate ordered him to come to this Court to give his evidence—Blewitt made a statement at the Police Court on 15th May, and pleaded guilty, and I think it was after that that the prisoner was ordered to come here.
WALTER BLEWITT . I am nineteen years old—I was in Mr. Arlett's service—on 9th May, between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening, I took the keys, opened the drawer, and took away the jewellery—I had seen the prisoner three times before, at a public-house in Woodgate Street—I went to that public-house after I had taken these articles and saw some men there, but I had no conversation—I came out and was passing the prisoner's shop; he said "Good evening," and I said "Good evening;" he said, in a low whisper, "Have you anything to sell? "I said "Yes;" he said "Go inside till I have shut up"—I went in, and he came in and locked the door—nobody else was there—I then took the jewellery out and laid it on the counter—he said "I hope it aint a by"—I did not understand that—he said "Where did you get it?"—I said "From my master, Mr. Arlett"—he said "It is the first I have bought"—I said "It is the first I have stolen"—he asked me how much I wanted, I said "12l."—he said that he had not
got 12l., and he gave me 3l.—he exchanged my necktie for an Oxford blue one—I left my own there—it is not true that I bought the tie of a girl in his shop, I never saw a girl—I had still in my possession a watch chased at the back, and an Albert chain and seals—I asked him where I could buy a hat and coat, he said "Over at my father's"—I did not know his father before—I then went to his father's shop and bought a coat for 1l. and a hat for 8s. 6d.—the prisoner waited outside—I wore them—I did not take off any clothing to try the coat on—I went to the prisoner's shop again on the Saturday evening; it was shut up—I knocked at the door and he opened it—I only just went into the doorway and gave him the chased watch and seals—he gave me 1l., and said "Come again on Tuesday"—that was to receive some more money—he did not ask me for a receipt—I pawned the coat in Brick Lane for 12s., in the name of George Richards, 4, Bacon Street—that was before I was taken in custody—on 15th May my sister came to the House of Detention and said that a detective was outside—I sent for the detective and made the same statement as I have made to-day as to where the jewellery was—after that the prisoner came as a witness—I destroyed the hat because the felt was coming off, and it was no good.
Cross-examined. It was between 7 and 8 o'clock when I first went to Mr. Nathan's, it was getting dusk—I went next time between 8 and 9 o'clock—I have been convicted before—I was asked about that before the Magistrate—that was for stealing a watch and chain in 1867—I was then thirteen—I was sentenced to fourteen days, and five years on board a ship—what I denied at the Police Court was being sent on board the Cornwallis—I have not given information about any girl—I went to see a young woman at the Eagle on Friday night—it was my sister, who came to the House of Detention—she brought me my day's food after I had been remanded—I told the detective, Witham, that I would tell him everything—I had told my master that I went out to go to the doctor, that was not true—the detective never mentioned my sentence at all—I went to Clerkenwell Sessions, and pleaded guilty—I am put back for sentence pending this trial.
Re-examined. I confessed myself guilty before Sir William Bodkin—no hope or threat was held out to me, it was a voluntary statement on my part.
WILLIAM WITHAM (Detective Officer Y). I was instructed to make enquiries, and on the 14th Blewitt told me that if I went down to Woodgate Street, to a shop where they sold ties, that he had taken the property there, and it was tied up in a handkerchief, and he had received 4l. for it on Friday night, and that he had taken a watch and chain there on the following Saturday night—I won't be quite certain whether he said that he had received any more money, but he said that he had received a tie, and that there were tome ties in the window the same as the tie on his neck; that the man had got a father a little lower down, who kept a clothes shop, and he had taken him there and introduced him to his father, to buy a hat and coat—I went to 12, Widegate Street, which leads into Petticoat Lane—the shop corresponded with the description which Blewitt had given me—I saw the prisoner's wife, and the prisoner afterwards came—he appeared to be in a very agitated state, and said "What does all this meant"—I said "There is a young man in custody for stealing a lot of jewellery, who says that he has left it with you and received 4l. from you, and that he bought a tie of you"—he said that he did not know what I meant, but acknowledged that he remembered the young man coming in after a tie—I saw ties in the window like
his—I also said that Blewitt said that the prisoner took him to his father and bought a hat and coat, and that he left his old tie behind him, and that I had come for the property—he said that he could not understand what I meant—I afterwards served a notice on the prisoner, and he attended before Mr. Cook on 21st May and gave his evidence—this is his deposition, signed by him and also by the Magistrate—(Read: "Abraham Nathan on his oath saith 'I live at 12, Widegate Street, Bishopsgate, I am a hosier; my father keeps a clothes shop opposite; I have never seen the prisoner, to my knowledge; he never brought me any jewellery; and I never lent him 4l. upon it. I have never advanced money on jewellery to him or anyone else. I never received a watch and chain from him. I have purchased no jewellery or watches and chains. I had no dealings with the prisoner on 10th May. I never stated to the detective that I had taken the prisoner to my father to buy a coat and hat *** The necktie which prisoner is wearing is one of mine. I did not sell it to him. My girl sold him one on Friday for 1s. I saw the party who purchased the tie; I was shutting up at the time. It was untrue that he left the stolen property with me. I was not present when the hat and coat were sold to him at my father's. I was never over there.
ABRAHAM NATHAN .") Blewitt pleaded guilty, and on 3rd June I went to the prisoner and told him that I had come to take him in custody for receiving the jewellery I had been about before—he made no reply—his father came in, and I said "You remember when I was here before you said that the young man who brought the hat and coat had a watch in his possession; you said that it was a gold watch chased at the back, and had seals attached to the chain"—the father said "Yes, I know he did"—I said "I suppose that is the young man you saw at the Police Court?"—the father said "I have no doubt but what it is"—the father was present on the 21st, and wanted to make a statement to Mr. Cook.
Cross-examined. He did not tell me that the place had nothing in it but empty boxes, he said that there were neckties in the window, and pointed to the one he was wearing—I had every facility for going over the house when I took him in custody; we went with that determination—he was present, and the sergeant took different things out of the boxes, and the wife also, and allowed me to look wherever I thought proper—I understand that Blewitt has been convicted and sent on board the Cornwall, but not more than once—Reeves told me so—Mrs. Nathan gave me the keys on the first occasion, but I would not avail myself of her permission, and even at the time I was searching the father came and asked me if I had got a warrant—I did not say that if he gave up the property he would not be prosecuted, but I said that all Mr. Arlett wanted was his property—I found several bundles of sheets ready packed up; he said that he was going to have them sent back to the Hackney Road, and the wife said that in consequence of bringing the things in from Petticoat Lane they left them where they lay, and that they sold things from Petticoat Lane on Sunday mornings—I have held out no inducement to Blewitt to give his evidence—the sister said that if I went in and saw her brother he would tell me where the property was, and I went in and he said that he would tell me if I would not take anybody else in custody.
Re-examined. Mr. Arlett had nothing to do with my going—it was on the third occasion that I said that Mr. Arlett only wanted his property back—on the second occasion, 6th June, Mr. Arlett was with me—Blewitt
had pleaded guilty four or five days before—I said nothing to the prisoner about not being prosecuted, I knew he would be prosecuted—Blewitt was sentenced before to fourteen days and five years as a juvenile offender—he has been in respectable employment since that.
JOHN HEALEY . I am manager to Mr. Carter, a pawnbroker, of 155, Brick Lane—I produce a coat pawned on 5th May for 10s. in the name of George Richards, 4, Bacon Street—from that time till I was at the Police Court, I did not see the prisoner—I do not identify him—I have a recollection of seeing his nice, but whether he pledged that coat I should not like to swear.
SAMUEL FOULSHAM . I am in the office of the Clerk of the Peace—I produce the original depositions taken on the trial of "Reg. v. Blewitt," and the certificate of the conviction of Walter Blewitt on his own confession.
MR. BESLEY to H. ARLETT. Q. Did Blewitt wear that tie at all while in your service? A. No, he wore a Cambridge blue one, a light blue.
The Prisonor's Statement before the Magistrate: "I reserve my defence and reserve calling witnesses by advice."
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. C. MATTHEWS the Defence.
GEORGE LE BASS . I am a painter, of 1, Back Street, Cubitt Town—on Sunday morning, 29th June, I was coming from Bromley Station to my home—I was very tired—I had been up forty hours, and had walked from Cubitt Town to Bromley—I had two pots of stout and mild, and coming home I sat down on a doorstep in, I believe, East Ferry Road, but I was a stranger there—a person named King came up and said "Jim, what are you doing here?"—I said "I am only resting"—the two prisoners, and one not in custody, came up to me, and said "Halloa, old man, what are you doing here?" and caught me round the neck and held me there—I did not speak or move—the man not in custody emptied my pockets, and took from my breast pocket 10s. 7d.—I went on ahead and halloaed out "Police!" and "Murder!" and the prisoner Byrne came across the road, hit me in the face, and knocked me down—I got to one of the Dock entrances, and saw Crawley—he asked me what was the matter—I told him I had been robbed and knocked down, and he no sooner saw it was me than he hit roe in the eye—I would not swear on my solemn oath that Byrne was the man who knocked me down—I picked him out from the crowd.
Cross-examined. I was not exactly sober, and I was a great way from being drunk—a very bad lot were at this spot, and a large crowd—I dare say there were as many as twenty people about.
Re-examined. I knew perfectly what I was about.
WILLIAM KING (Policeman K 582). I was on duty in West Ferry Road, and about 1. 15 I heard cries of "Murder!" and "Police!"—I met the prosecutor with about twenty rough-looking lads round him; he said he had been knocked down and robbed—I saw Byrne there—I turned my lamp on the crowd, and the prosecutor identified Byrne as the man who knocked him down and robbed him—Byrne said that he knew nothing about it—I took Crawley on the Sunday afterwards, from information—the prosecutor identified him at the station from seven others—the prosecutor had had a little
to drink, but he knew what he was about—he complained of being knocked down and robbed, but he said nothing about somebody putting his arm round his neck when he was on the doorstep.
GEORGE CAMP . I am a barge master, in the employment of the East and West India Dock Company—on Saturday night, 28th June, I was going on duty between 12 and 1 o'clock—I saw the prosecutor leaning across the railings of the bridge; I went to look at him, and he fell backwards—I can't say whether he was tipsy, but he looked very much as if he was—he could not get up again—these two men came up and began to pull him about; they said they knew him, and wanted to take him home—they went away and a lot of men came up soon afterwards, and began to pull him about—I got a light, and looked at him; he did not seem disturbed in his dress—I went away up to the South Dock Bridge—I was not there above ten minutes before the prosecutor came up with all his pockets out, and he swore at Crawley that he had taken his money; he pointed out Crawley to me—I told him he had better go away and find a policeman, as I could not do anything in it—I said I never saw him robbed—Crawley struck him in the face and cut his eye, when he said he had robbed him—I heard a row afterwards by the toll-gate, but I did not go down there.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLLINS the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BRINDLBY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES BULLMAN . I am a painter, of Hanover Street, Pimlico—on Sunday morning, 29th June, I was in Petticoat Lane—I saw the prisoner there, he got hold of my watch chain, and tried to draw it out—I put my hand and prevented him—I followed him ten minutes, saw a constable, and gave him in charge.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not get shoved up against me and beg my pardon.
EDWARD. GOODYEAR (City Policeman 782). Bullman pointed out the prisoner to me, and I took him—I found a portion of a hair watchguard on him and a new necktie, a pawnticket for a ring, a knife, and a handkerchief—he said that the prosecutor was mistaken.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I took 1l. 6s. 8d. from you; it was given up to your aunt.
Prisoners Defence. I can assure the Jury I am innocent—I get a good living in Petticoat Lane, and I was down there that Sunday morning.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, July 9th, 1873.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
The prisoner stated in the hearing of the Jury that he was Guilty of the attempt; the Jury found that verdict. — Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. POLAND and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. RIBTON and GOODMAN the Defence.
WILLIAM PARRANT . I am a carter, in the service of Mr. Johnson, of the Rectory Farm, Heston—I know John Humphreys, he was also a carter in Mr. Johnson's service—he and I lived on the farm, in a cottage adjoining the stables—on Sunday, 25th May, Humphreys breakfasted with me a little after 9 o'clock; we stayed together till about 11 o'clock, and then went into Cranford Lane to get some cabbages that I had had given me; that is about a mile from the farm—I got the cabbages, and at 12.30 we went into the Rising Sun public-house, in Cranford Lane, with Horton, the man who gave me the cabbages—there might have been a dozen persons there—I did not notice the prisoner there—Humphreys and I sat together the best part of the time—we stayed there till about 2.30—I paid 6d. for beer, which would be three pints, and the other man, I suppose, spent about the same; I don't know that he spent any more—I did not notice whether Horton paid for anything; he drank some of my beer—at 2.30 the house was cleared—Horton went indoors to his own house, and I saw nothing more of him that day—I bought some periwinkles—Humphreys did not like to see anybody eat winkles; he went on the road home, a little distance in front of me—he started three or four minutes before I did—I did not take any notice of him till I overtook him, which was about 200 yards from the public-house—there were some men standing against the railings which join the public-house—I don't know who they were—I heard no words pass between them and Humphreys—I did not notice the prisoner until he overtook us—I was then walking with Humphreys; he came behind us—I did not notice his state; he could walk very well—I and Humphreys were sober—the prisoner had his jacket on his left arm when he came up—the prisoner said something to Humphreys about a pretty shirt; that was all I heard—Humphreys said it was a pretty one, or some such words; I heard nothing else—the prisoner then knocked Humphreys down; he struck him in the face, in front of him; it was a blow that knocked him down, it was a blew between the eyes; he fell backwards—I might have been three or four yards away from Humphreys at the time—after striking Humphreys, the prisoner came and struck me—I had not said anything to him; he struck me under the eye, and again on the nose—at the time he struck me I had one hand in my pocket—I had not known the prisoner before; I am a stranger about there—when he struck me something fell from his hands, but the blood was running fast, and I never stopped to see what it was—it might have been a stone; it cut two places here, and one on the nose—I got over the gate, and walked across the field, wiping the blood off—Humphreys was lying in the road, where he was knocked down—he afterwards overtook me, and we walked across together—I dare say he overtook me in five or ten minutes, because he did not get over the same way that I did, he came over another gate—I saw blood running down from his nose and eye—we then walked home together—on arriving at the farm I did my horses, and I believe Humphreys did his—I did not see him again till between 5 and 6 o'clock on Monday night, when they came home with the horses—he was then in the stable—he was going to do his horses, but he was sitting down on the chaff-box, resting his arm on the corn bin—I and Cook spoke to him, but he never spoke to us—I could see he looked bad—I
sent for his brother, and we took him up stairs, and put him on the bed—I afterwards saw his dead body.
Cross-examined. I was examined at the inquest—I had never seen the prisoner before, that I know of—I believe his father and mother live somewhere handy—I believe Horton is brother to the man who keeps the public-house—the landlord was there that day—I paid 6d. for three pints of beer, I don't suppose Humphreys paid for any more, we drank three pots between us three—I could not swear that the prisoner was not in the public-houses, or that he was, I can't swear who was in there—I did not hear the prisoner order a pint of beer for himself and a pot to take home to his father and mother, it might have been said, I never heard it—I did not see Humphreys take the pot of beer and drink it—he did not hand the pot to me that was bought for the prisoner, and for which he had paid—I don't know who paid for it, I don't know that I drank anything except what was paid for; I won't swear I did not, if he gave any other pot to me I might have drunk out of it, but not that I know of; nobody offered it to me that I know of, no more than what Humphreys offered me—Humphreys did not drink out of any other pot that I know of; I did not have my eye on him all the time; I did not hear Humphreys speak to anybody—I did not hear anybody say to Humphreys "Don't touch that, I am going to take it home "I did not hear Humphreys answer "You won't take this home, I shall drink it now I have got it"—the prisoner came behind us, struck Humphreys and knocked him down; I don't know what for, I was not knocked down—I did not ask him what he struck me for, I got over the gate and walked across the fields—Humphreys was a taller man than I, not quite so stout—I heard nothing more pass between the prisoner and Humphreys than I have stated, I was about three or four yards from them, nothing more could have passed without my hearing it; the prisoner immediately struck him and knocked him down—Humphreys joined me about ten minutes afterwards and we walked quietly home—we had no conversation about the man that struck us; we never mentioned a word about it going across the fields—we went about our ordinary work that evening—I saw Mr. Asbury, the foreman, in the afternoon, I did not tell him what had happened; I did not mention it to anybody—I did not live in the same house with Humphreys, he lodged in a house for the single carters and the boys—I was not drunk, nor was Humphreys.
NATHANIEL DEAL WATSON . I live at Cranford Lane, and am a labourer, working for Messrs. Harrison, brick-makers—I knew the deceased man, Humphreys, since I was a child, I also know the prisoner—I live about 200 yards from the Rising Sun—on 25th May, a little before 3 o'clock, I was on my door step, reading a paper—I saw Humphreys and Parrant, who, I knew only by sight, going in the direction of Cranford, from the Rising Sun—Humphreys halloaed to me as he passed, "What cheer, mate?" and I replied "Hoy, boy!" he went on and I kept my place reading—they were not drunk, they were sober—after they passed I saw the prisoner following them, walking, and a little time after that Charles Church, young Robert Cordery and Thomas Meads passed in the same direction—a few minutes after that, in consequence of something my wife said to me, I went in the same direction and I saw the prisoner and Humphreys, they were standing almost face to face when I first saw them, I saw the prisoner hit Humphreys on the nose; that was where the blood was coming from—I could not tell where he hit him till I got close to him, I saw him hit him in the face, he fell
down—the prisoner had his jacket off at the time—after he had done this he turned round and came back towards home—I did not see him strike Parrant—I met the prisoner and told him he was a b----coward, and that for two pins I should slip into him for being such a coward—he did not say anything that I heard; I went on to Humphreys, he was lying on the ground, on the flat of his back—when I picked him up he did not know me for a second or two—Meads helped me pick him up, and then he turned round and said "Is that you Nat" I said "It is me, Jack, my boy"—he turned round towards Church as he was going away and said "That man with the red shirt on has hit me"—I said "Never mind, go straight on home and I will see that no one interferes with you," and as he went on home he overtook Parrant and they went home together—when the prisoner struck Humphreys he did not strike back again, he fell and there he laid—I never saw him again after that.
Cross-examined. The prisoner passed within about 5 yards of me, in the road; I had a full opportunity of seeing him, he was not carrying anything that I saw, he had nothing in his hand—Humphreys was not in my sight then, he had gone round the corner of the hedge—at the time I first caught sight of Humphreys, the prisoner was not a yard from him—Parrant was then over in the field, going towards the farm where he lived—I was not near enough to hear anything pass between the prisoner and Humphreys; after the prisoner struck Humphreys, he turned back to meet me and passed me—Humphreys was then lying on his back, on the ground—I am certain that the prisoner never went back to him or to Parrant—Humphreys was a large-framed man, but not over and above powerful; he was apparently much stronger than the prisoner—I have known the prisoner eleven years, he is about twenty or twenty-one—his father and mother live near me, he works in a brickfield at Heston—I don't know that he is in the habit of coming over on a Sunday to see his parents, I had not seen him over there all the summer till this Sunday; every other summer he has been at home; he worked with his father for several years—I know the landlord of the. Rising Sun; I am not aware that he is here, or anyone from the house.
Re-examined. I was about 150 yards from Humphreys when I saw the prisoner strike him—there was nothing between us, it is a straight road from where I stood—I did not see him strike Parrant; after I saw Humphreys struck I ran—I came up to the prisoner in a minute or a minute and a half—I am certain I only saw one blow, and that knocked him down.
By MR. RIBTON. When Humphreys passed me he did not seem to have been drinking; he was sober, I could tell by his way of walking—I have been in his company when he has been both drunk and sober—he was in the habit of drinking at times; not more on Sundays than other days.
ROBERT CORDERY . I live at Cranford Lane—I am fourteen years old—I saw Humphreys and Parrant come out of the Rising Sun on this Sunday—the prisoner was sitting against Joseph Langleys, about as far again off as across this Court—Humphreys and Parrant passed him; I did not hear thorn say anything to him, or he to them—they walked on, and the prisoner went after them—he started running at first, and then he walked; I followed, I saw him overtake the two men, and I saw him knock Humphreys down, he then went and knocked Parrant down, he struck him somewhere
in the face—he then went back and kicked Humphreys as he was lying on his back, half on the road and half on the path—the prisoner had on a brown jacket, but he had got it off at the time; after he had kicked Humphreys he put it on—I saw Watson pick Humphreys up, and he went home—I had not heard any quarrel or anything of the sort between them before this—I was about 50 yards from them when I saw the men struck.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's parents live near where this happened—I live next door to them—I knew Parrant by sight, not by name—I don't know that the prisoner was in the habit of coming to see his parents on a Sunday—I saw him there one Sunday before, I think the week before this happened—he works at Southwell; I work in a brickfield, not in the same one as he does—Watson was lying against his door when I saw the prisoner strike Humphreys; he could have seen it if he looked over his hedge—I only saw him strike Humphreys one blow—at that time Parrant was close to him; he then knocked Parrant down; he fell like on his side at the side of the ditch, he soon got up and went homewards—I was at the inquest and told what I had seen—I had not been talking about this before I gave my evidence, I only told my mother and father; I did not mention it to my playfellows—the prisoner's brother, Charles Church, and I, went together to the inquest—I don't know that he is not on good terms with his brother; they have been pretty good friends what I have seen of them—the brother did not take me to the Coroner; I was going and he overtook me—we did not talk of this as we went along—I did not talk of the kick the prisoner gave Humphreys; I told him what I had seen—I told him I had seen the prisoner kick Humphreys in the head—he did not tell me he had seen him kick him, I am sure of that—he never told me a word about what he had seen—I and Church gave evidence on the same day.
Re-examined. The beadle brought me a summons to go to the inquest, and told me where and when to go, and as I went the prisoner's brother overtook me, and I told him what I had seen.
CHARLES CHURCH . I am the prisoner's brother, and live at Cranford Lane—I am not on ill-terms with my brother—we have not had any quarrel; he lives at Southwell—on Sunday, 25th May, I saw him in the morning, at my mother's—I spoke to him there—there was no quarrel or ill-feeling between us there—between 2 and 3 o'clock in the afternoon I was going towards Cranford—I saw Humphreys and Parrant walking about thirty yards in front of me—I did not know either of them—I had never seen Humphreys before that day—the prisoner was a little way from them—I saw him knock them down—he knocked Humphreys down first, then he came back about ten yards—he did not speak to him before he knocked him down, that I heard—he struck him in the face, and he fell on his back—he then struck Parrant in the eye—he then went back on his way home—he kicked Humphreys before he came back, in the head—that was after he had struck Parrant; he then went home—there was no quarrel that I know of—my brother had had a little to drink—I saw Watson and Meads come behind and pick Humphreys up, and put him on his legs—I believe both Humphreys and Parrant had had a little drop of drink—after Humphreys was picked up he went across the fields in a direction for his home.
Cross-examined. It was between 10 and 11 o'clock in the morning that I saw my brother at my mother's—I live close by—I am married—my mother's house is about forty yards from the Rising Sun—she does not get
her beer there—I was in her house about half an hour that morning—the prisoner left before me—he did not say he was going for some beer—I could not say exactly how long it was before that Sunday, that I had seen him—I never had any quarrel with him—we were always very good friends; I swear that—Mr. Meads came after me to go to the inquest—no one went with me—Cordery walked along with me—we did not talk about this matter—I never said anything to him, nor he to me; I swear that—I never spoke to him going—I never said a word about the evidence I had to give—he did not then say that he saw my brother kick Humphreys; when he was coming back from the Coroner's he said he saw his foot go back like that—I did not hear him give his evidence—I did not tell him that I saw the kick—I saw the blow that knocked Humphreys down—Parrant was then against the gate; he was not near Humphreys—ho was about ten or twelve yards away then—having knocked Humphreys down, my brother went and struck Parrant in the eye, and he fell back against the gate—I could not say that he fell on the ground, or on his side—Watson was then coming behind us with Meads—I did not see Humphreys before this, only when he passsed by mother's door; I could see that he had had some drink, by his appearance, and Parrant too—they had both had a little drink.
GEORGE TIMBERLAKE . I am a labourer and live in Cranford Lane—on Sunday, 25th May, between 2 and 3 o'clock, I was standing at my door, close to the highway, and saw Humphreys and Parrant pass; and after that I saw the prisoner following them sharply, with his two hands in his pockets—he said to them "Now then, old butts, what have you got to say about me? what you have got to say you had better come and do it"—one of them said "Oh, come on, we won't have no words with him," and they walked along—he was about ten yards away when he called out this—I had not heard them say anything to him—lie then threw off his jacket, stepped up before Humphreys and hit him in the face and knocked him down: he fell on his back—then he stepped from him and went and hit Parrant in the face—he then turned back to see whether Humphreys was getting up; he found he was not, so he walked after Parrant and got on the top of the gate as Parrant got over it—all this time Humphreys was in the road—I believe the prisoner's brother was the next that came up, and then Cordery and Watson, who picked Humphreys up—the prisoner walked back by Humphreys' feet as he lay, and passed Watson—I did not see any kick.
Cross-examined. It might have been three minutes after one of the men said "Come on, we won't have no words with him," that the prisoner struck Humphreys—Humphreys and Parrant were close together—I did not see Humphreys turn round to face the prisoner; he walked round to Humphreys and hit him in the face—he went and got before him and struck him, and then he immediately struck Parrant—he did not knock Parrant down; he did not fall or stagger; he walked away and got over the gate—I saw Humphreys afterwards walk away across the field—I am a brickmaker—I don't work with the prisoner; I have known him several years, and his brother these ten years—I did not give evidence before the Coroner; I was before the Magistrate—Mr. Thompson, the policeman, took me there—I had not been talking of this to people—I told my missis and my father-in-law what I had seen—I heard of the evidence given before the Coroner—I did not read it; I can't read—I heard people talk about it—I don't frequent the Rising Sun—I have been there, but not to make a practice of it—I have not heard this talked of there—I have only been there once since,
and then I came out directly—I have not spoken to the prisoner's brother about it.
Re-examined. I had not known Humphreys or Parrant before, they were both strangers to me—the prisoner and his family I have known for years—I don't know of any quarrel between the brothers—I don't know whether they were on good terms.
BENJAMIN GEORGE . I was fellow-carter with Humphreys, in the employment of Mrs. Johnson—on Monday, 26th, he was at work—I asked him how he was, and he said his head was very bad where they kicked him—he was very bad on the Monday evening—I sat with him by his bed till he died, at 10. 15 on the Monday night—he died in my arms.
Cross-examined. He was not in the habit of drinking, that I know of—he has had a little sometimes—I have not seen him drunk above once or twice—I did not see him at all on the Sunday—I was at the farm on the Sunday, and did my horses at 12 o'clock and again at 4 o'clock—I did not notice whether Humphreys was there or not, I was over at the other side of the yard—I did not hear of what had happened to him on the Sunday afternoon—I slept in the same room with him on the Sunday night—he went to bed as usual—I don't know but what he was sober when he went to bed—I did not see anything the matter with him—I called him up at 4 o'clock on the Monday morning—he got up soon after and went about his work as usual, and drove two horses harrowing—he worked along with another carter up to 1 o'clock, when he came home—it was then he said his head was very bad—that was the first time he said anything to me about his head.
Re-examined. I asked him how he was, because I saw him walking on the road very dull like.
THOMAS MEADS . I am a labourer—on 25th May I saw Humphreys and Parrant going towards Cranford and the prisoner following them, walking at a good rate, as if to overtake them—I followed about 200 yards from them—I saw nothing of the transaction—Humphreys was on the ground when I came up.
Cross-examined. I did not see anything in the prisoner's hand—my reason for following them was hearing the boys shouting out that they were going a fighting.
GEORGE. COOK . I am a carter—Humphreys worked on the farm with mo—I saw him on the Monday—he did not look quite so well as he did before—he made a complaint to me—his time was up at 4 o'clock, but he did not get up till 5 o'clock—he went out along with me at 6 o'clock and kept on till 8 o'clock, breakfast time—he did not keep on like—between 1 and 2 o'clock I saw him in the stable, lying down on the straw—in the evening he was very ill—I sent for his brother—he was taken up stairs and died at 10 o'clock.
Cross-examined. I saw him between 3 and 4 o'clock on the Sunday afternoon—he was doing his horses the same as usual—he made no complaint to me then—I did not speak to him—I did not see anything extraordinary or out of the usual course about him at that time.
USHER GRANVILLE DOYLE GRANVILLE . I am a licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians, and live at Spring Grove, Isleworth—on 27th May I was requested to make post-mortem examination of the body of the deceased—he appeared to have been a healthy man—I examined the head—externally I found an extravasated wound, extending about 3 1/2 by 2 1/2 inches
above and rather behind the ear—there was no contusion, simply a bruise—on opening the head I found blood extravasated beneath the cellular tissues—I found a fracture of the skull, extending from the petrous portion of the temporal bone, just above the external meatus, corresponding with the external injury—blood was extensively extravasated in the interstices of the bone, and also within the skull, pressing on the brain—the piece of skull was not knocked out, but the fracture had a triangular form, so that the piece of bone was, as it were, tesselated; although it was detached it could not be moved or shaken, it was tight—the injuries I discovered in the head were sufficient to cause death—I should say the fracture was caused by a blow inflicted by some blunt instrument, probably by a kick; a kick would do it, but whatever it was it must have been a very powerful blow—that portion of the skull is one of the thickest and hardest, a little above that it is thinnest—if a man received such a blow he would not necessarily feel the consequences directly, he might go about for some time afterwards—I think he might go about his work, and be in the condition that the witnesses have described on the Monday—the way in which I should explain it would be thus: in all probability the injury ruptured a vessel slightly, but that that dosed up again, and, owing to the motion, whether it was by working or jolting, or some other cause, the vessel reopened, and after a time blood was poured out in a sufficient quantity to press upon the brain, and so cause death.
Cross-examined. The skull was extensively fractured; not all round the head, it did not go to the back part of the skull—the fracture was only just where the injury was inflicted—I had not heard any account of the transaction before I gave my evidence—I had heard some of the witnesses say he was kicked—I should scarcely say a simple fall was sufficient to have caused such an extensive fracture—it might have been caused by his falling on some hard substance, but less likely than a kick—I think he might go about his work after receiving the injury—I have known a case of the kind—I remember one when I was a student in the hospital, the man had sustained fracture of the skull, and had gone about his work for some hours afterwards—that is some years ago—that is the only case that has come under my personal treatment—I should not think it unlikely or improbable that a man could go about his work without complaining for hours after the injury—it would be an exceptional case, I admit, because, as a general rule, blood would be poured out immediately, in a sufficient quantity to cause death, but in this case it was not so.
Re-examined. If the man was struck violently, or fell heavily against a stone, that might cause the injury, but until the blood began to press on the brain he might go about—I observed some marks on the bridge of his nose, as if from a blow—it was not an injury of much moment; the bones were not injured.
CHARLES THOMPSON (Policeman T. 190.) I apprehended the prisoner on 3rd June, at Langley, Bucks—I told him I should take him into custody for the job at Cranford Lane—he said "Well, I only hit him once."
Cross-examined. There was a fair at Langley, and I found him there.
WILLIAM MICHAEL WHITEMARSH . I am a Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and am an M. D.—I was called in on Monday night by Mr. Johnson's foreman, about 8 o'clock—I saw the deceased; he was propped up in bed, and dying—I ordered something for him, but before the messenger arrived he was dead—I at once saw that he was suffering from effusion on
the brain, through blood or serum, but it was impossible to decide without a post-mortem examination—I was present at the examination—I saw the fracture—I am in partnership with Dr. Granville, and I agree with his evidence that the fracture caused death, and it is distinctly laid down that you may fracture your skull and go about for two days, unless there is injury to the brain itself—it may not be detected even for five mouths afterwards.
Cross-examined. The way in which I explain it is this: that the man, when he fractured his skull, also ruptured a small vessel, that nature caused that small vessel to retract, and only a very small portion of blood was thrown out; if a larger quantity had been thrown out insensibility would have come on at once, but there being only a small quantity effused he was able to go about his ordinary duty; having had no contusion, he was perfectly sensible; but I imagine that the exertion of getting up in the morning and going out with the horses caused the little clot in the vessel, which nature had supplied to close it up, to be disturbed—if that had continued he would probably have been alive now—I agree with Mr. Glanville that a man may fracture his skull and go about his ordinary duty, provided there is no effusion—if a large vessel had been ruptured, probably he would have died in ten minutes, but this was a minute vessel—I had heard an account of the case when the post-mortem examination was made—if I had heard nothing about it I should have considered that the injury had been inflicted some twenty-four hours before, or something of that sort—I believe it might have been caused by a kick, and quite as likely by a fall—there must have been very great violence—I should say a violent kick would stun the man—I should say it would be very unlikely that he would be able to walk away in ten minutes, as if nothing had happened—it would all depend on the amount of concussion—I should not necessarily expect a longer interval—I should in the majority of cases, but this was an exceptional one, and we are surprised at so many things now-a-days.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STEELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
JAMES MITCHELL (Policeman X 416.) On the evening of Whit Monday, about 10. 30, I was on duty in Newton Terrace, Westbourne Grove—I heard a noise and a shout from people, and on looking round I saw a Hansom cab coming at a very furious rate, and several persons running—the cab was about five or six yards from me when it passed me—the driver was whipping the horse when he passed me—it was going at about twelve or fourteen miles an hour, galloping, coming from London and going towards Bayswater—the accident had occurred about ten or twelve yards before he got to me—I had been standing there for about ten minutes—I had not seen any other cab pass just about that time—I ran after the cab and halloaed, and asked him to stop—I came up to him at the corner of Richmond Road, where he was stopped—I told him he had run over some one in Westbourne Grove—he said "I don't know whether I have or not"—it was the prisoner—he was drunk.
Cross-examined. I did not see the accident—the cab had gone about 300 yards, I should say, from the time I first saw it till it was stopped—I ran after it and kept it in view all the time—the man was whipping his horse
when he passed me—there is a cab rank above there, about 20 or 30 yards from where he was stopped—I say the prisoner was drunk, because he could not stand upright when he got down from the cab—he could not stand still—that is my reason; I have no other reason—I did not hear him ask a gentleman for his card—I was present at the inquest; the Jury returned a verdict of "Accidental Death."
MICHAEL HILL (Policeman X 357). On the evening of Whit Monday, I was on duty at the bottom of Norfolk Terrace, Westbourne Grove, at a special point—I had been there about half an hour previous to this, and hearing a great noise down Westbourne Grove, I looked that way, and saw a Hansom cab coming at a most terrific rate, galloping up Westbourne Grove, towards me—I rushed across the road—there are about three or four lamps at that point, and as the driver saw me coming across, he pulled the horse and cab up Richmond Road—that slackened the pace of the horse, and I rushed forward and caught hold of it as he turned; at the same time three or four men jumped on to the cab to help me stop it—when it was stopped a lady and gentleman got out of the cab—they seemed very excited—I told the cabman to get down, he got down directly and came to the near side of his fare on the pavement, and said "Will you please give me your name and address, Mr. Cuff"—Mr. Cuff then helped the lady out, and said "I shall pay you your fare, 2s., and I shall have no more to do with you"—the prisoner said "Mr. Cuff, will you give me your name and address, I have got into some trouble, and I hope you will help me out of it"—Mr. Cuff said "I shall do nothing of the kind, I shall pay you your fare, and if the police want my name and address they shall have it," and he gave it to the last witness, at the same time remarking to the driver "Whatever punishment you get you richly deserve, even if it is six months'; it is a mercy that me and my wife were not dashed to pieces, as the cabman almost dashed into a carriage in Oxford Street, near Great Portland Street; we were coming at a terrific rate and almost came into a carriage, and also into an omnibus in Westbourne Grove"—the prisoner was under the influence of liquor at the time—a gentleman came up and said "That is the cabman who has knocked down a man and a child in Westbourne Grove, I have put them in a four-wheeled cab and sent them to the hospital"—I Said to the prisoner "You hear what that gentleman says?"—he said "Yes"—I said "I shall have to take you to Paddington Police Station, and charge you"—which I did—I charged him with being drunk, furiously driving, and also knocking down two persons in Westbourne Grove and running over them—he replied "I lost all control over the horse"—I took the number of the cab; it was 2, 591.
Cross-examined. I did not write it down—I have it on this card (produced)—I see it is 9, 125.
WILLIAM GRAY . I am a labourer, and live at 8, Stewart's Terrace, Battersea Fields—I am the brother of the deceased, James Thomas Gray—on the evening of Whit Monday, about 10. 30, I was with him in Westbourne Grove, and my two nieces and my daughter—we were walking along the path, and my little daughter, who is seven years old, stepped into the road—the deceased went to catch hold of her to take her out of the road; a Hansom cab came along very fast and knocked my brother and daughter down, and ran over my brother—I ran after the cab, and cried out to the driver to stop; he did not stop; I could not catch him; he did not attempt to stop; the more I ran, the faster he went while I was calling out to him.
WILLIAM JAMES COLE . I am house surgeon at St. Mary's hospital, Paddington—on Whit Monday evening the deceased was brought there—I was unwell at the time, and another surgeon saw him—I did not see him till the next morning—I found that he had sustained a compound fracture of the right leg, situate about the lower third of the leg—two or three days afterwards erysipelas set in, the result of the injury—it gradually extended, and on 27th he died—Mr. Mansfield, the Police Magistrate, came and took his deposition in the afternoon of the 26th, but he was then in a very wandering condition.
JOSEPH CUFF . I am a tea dealer and grocer, in Portobello Road—on the evening of 2nd June, Whit Monday, I took a cab in Oxford Street near the Princess's Theatre—I asked the driver, the prisoner, what he would take me for to Orchard Street, Nothing Hill—he said "Half-a-crown"—I said "I shall not give you that, but I will give you 2s., if you object to take me I shall walk as far as the Circus and take an omnibus"—he accepted the offer, and we drove along—I had my mother and little boy with me—we went along fast;. close against Portman Street there was a carriage coming across the road; whether the man saw it or not I can't say, but we nearly ran into it—in the Bayswater Road the horse kicked—in Westbourne Grove I called out to him that if he did not stop I should catch hold of the reins, or something to that effect—I don't know whether he heard me—when we got nearly opposite Whiteley's, the linen draper's, I saw a man getting off the pavement as if going across the road; it did not appear to me that he saw the horse—whether the horse knocked him down or not I can't say, but I felt a jerk over something or other—it appears he was trying to save the child, but I did not know that—I should imagine we were then going something like ten or twelve miles an hour—the driver went on—we nearly ran into an omnibus directly after that in Westbourne Grove—the driver of the omnibus prevented it, or it would have been a case of turn over—the driver then turned round by Richmond Road—I don't know whether he pulled up or whether the constable stopped him—I was only too anxious to get out—my mother was in a terrible fright—I was asked my name and address, and I gave it to the police.
ELIZA SIMMONDS . I am the wife of Thomas Simmonds, of Colville Mews, Westbourne Grove, cab proprietor—the prisoner drove for us—he was driving a Hansom cab for us on Whit Monday—I really cannot tell you the number of it—we sometimes shift the numbers—we have several cabs—I really cannot tell you how many, I will say ten—I can't tell you how many horses my husband has; he has got several—if one was gone I should miss it—I can't tell you whether there is any entry about the numbers of the cabs—I don't interfere with the business—I cannot tell you whether my husband is the proprietor of a cab, No. 9, 125.
THOMAS SIMMONDS . I am a cab proprietor, at 2, Colville Mews, Westbourne Grove—I am the owner of about fourteen or fifteen cabs and twentyfive or twenty-six horses, twenty-four or twenty-five—the prisoner drove for me—he was driving for me on the evening of Whit Monday, 2nd June—it was a Hansom cab—I don't know the cab particularly—I could not say the number of it—the numbers don't run regularly—they might begin at 1,000 and the next might be 7,000 or 8,000—I do not remember the numbers of my cabs—I could not say now, because it does not concern me enough to notice the numbers—I have not had any reason for doing so—I could not say whether I am the owner of a cab No. 9, 125—we don't keep
any list, we have no reason to—when we take out our licence we pay for the licence, and the inspector has the number.
COURT. Q. Do you really mean that you cannot tell whether you are the proprietor of the cab No. 9, 125? A. I cannot—I could have done if I had known it was required, by noticing all my cabs' numbers before they went out this morning, but I was not aware of being asked—the numbers are changed every year in January and September—I have not had the game numbers since September—it might be a number recently taken out—if I wanted a number to-morrow I could go to Scotland Yard and take it out—you may take out a new number any day of the week—I could not at the present time say whether my cab is No. 9, 125.
MR. STEELE. Q. Do you know anything about the hone which he was driving? A. I know that he was driving a horse and cab—I don't know anything about the particular horse which he drove—he drove two—it is very seldom I am at home at all, I am out dealing and doing certain things—the prisoner had been driving a bay horse some time—the horse was all right—it was a little bit collicky in starting sometimes—perhaps it would not go on for half a second, but when he was once set going he was all right—it had never done anything before—it was not a kicker—I have known it to kick, as thousands and hundreds of horses do—I have known him kick once or twice—I knew him once fall down, and kick the dashboard off; he slipped down in the street—most horses kick when they are down.
Cross-examined. I had a driver in my employment named John Brown—he has driven this horse—I never heard him complain of the horse having bolted with him—he said he had the horse down, and it kicked the dashboard off, and he would not drive if any more—I am aware that I may be rendered responsible for this in another way—Brown never refused to drive this horse because it bolted—he did not refuse to drive it—talk about bolting, why the horse could not go six miles an hour, not in a fair trotting way—they have no right to gallop with a Hansom cab—the prisoner asked for the horse himself—Brown refused to drive it after it fell down and kicked the dash off—he never told me that on one occasion he had to pull it up against a lamp-post to stop it—I know a man named Smith, the foreman of a cab-yard—I have not had frequent complaints in Smith's presence of this horse bolting and kicking—I have heard that he has kicked once or twice, but I never heard them say he bolted—Smith and Brown are discharged men that have been in my employment, and they have been brought here by you to give this evidence—I don't know that there was an accident, and that Smith fetched the horse from the police-station, and that it kicked all the way home; I know it was taken to the green-yard, and was looked up for the man being drunk, that is all I know of it—Smith was my servant at that time, since then I discharged him—I know George White, a cab driver—I do not know that since the prisoner has been charged a lady was in my Hansom cab in Princes Street, Haymarket, and was obliged to get out on account of the horse kicking so violently; I never heard of it.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN BROWN . I live at 3, Colville Mews, Bayswater—I know the horse which the prisoner drove on Whit Monday, in a Hansom cab; I drove it on the 7th or 8th, and I refused to my master to drive it any more, because it kicked with me; the second time I had to lead him home; I would not take him out again, he ran away with me, he got his legs through the traces
and the shaft, and chucked himself down over the near shaft, and there he lay—I got him up and took him to Mr. Allen's, in Liquorpond Street, and there I left him—I told my master of that; I told him the first time he bolted from me—I am satisfied if a man was to whip him they would not stop him in no distance—his horses never do want any whip, and as to whipping him, no man has no business to whip him, they could not do anything at all with him if they did.
Cross-examined. I am a cab driver—I am now in employment—I am not driving my own cab, it is a Hansom—I could not tell you my number as a driver—I have not got my badge—10, 130 is my right number, my badge number.
FREDERICK SMITH . I was foreman to Mr. Simmonds—I know this horse; it is a bay horse with black points; he was a very wilful horse, in fact, he was not a safe horse to be sent out at all—I have cautioned Mr. Simmonds time after time that we should have some trouble with him—on the night of the accident I got him out of the yard, and he would not start; I got a constable to lead him out, and when he did start I had to let him run up against the wall and knock his head.
Cross-examined. I have a badge, my number is 2, 929—I live at 7, Colville Mews, Bayswater.
GEORGE WHITE . I am a cab driver, I drive my own cab and two horses—I live at 10, Colville Mews, and have done for ten years—I did not know this horse till yesterday; I saw him out yesterday in Princes Street, a lady got out of the Hansom through the horse kicking, she was very much frightened, and I took her in my Hansom to the Burlington Arcade, and the man walked along with the horse there.
COURT. Q. How do you know it was the same horse? A. I asked the driver, and he told me it was the same horse that met with this accident; he had a kicking-strap on.
Cross-examined The number of my badge is 4, 379.
JAMES DONOVAN . I know this horse that went out with the prisoner on Whit Monday, I was working for Mr. Simmonds at the time—the first time that Brown brought him home it broke the shafts; that was two or three days after Whit Monday—after the accident it was turned out into the grass field—I took it out on 17th June, and it was brought up the day before yesterday.
Cross-examined. I am a stable-boy—I was employed rubbing up the cabs and doing all the odd jobs in the yard—I am not with Mr. Simmonds now—I live at 39, Lonsdale Road.
EDWARD LAWRENCE . I am a cab driver and live an 13A, Belgrave Road, Notting Hill—on Whit Monday I was on the Richmond Road rank—I saw the prisoner driving a cab; as he passed me he was pulling his horse as hard as he could; it was going about four or five miles an hour, he checked it at the corner, as it was going round the corner; he was not whipping it, the whip was in the socket.
Cross-examined. I saw him coming just about fifty yards from the corner, he stopped just as he turned round the corner—the number of my badge is 2, 413.
JOSEPH CUFF (re-examined). I did not see the horse whipped—I did not see a whip used just prior to the accident—I did not see him whip the horse at all—I did not notice the man being in liquor when I was agreeing for the fare, if I had I certainly should not have engaged him, having my mother
and my little boy with me; the man was on the box, he did not appear to me to be intoxicated—I really should not have noticed if he had whipped the horse, because my mother was so frightened that I had great trouble to keep her in the cab—I did not notice what the man was doing—I know that he was going at a most tremendous rate—I could hot say whether the whip was used at the time the horse kicked, I do not remember seeing him whip the horse—we were going at a tremendous pace just prior to the accident, the man must have had a tight rein at the rate which the horse was going, or I should imagine the horse would have been down—it was both trotting and galloping, sometimes trotting and sometimes galloping—I have no reason to doubt that the man was sober, as I say I thought he was or I certainly should not have engaged him—it appeared to me that he lost control over the horse in Westbourne Grove—when I got out of the cab I said that if he were punished he would deserve it, even if he had six months', at least I might have said so; perhaps I said it out of fright, because I was frightened; I hardly know what I said at the time.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, July 9th, 1673.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
470. APOSTOLOS DEMETRIUS SFEZZO (38), PLEADED GUILTY to two indictments, for feloniously, within four months of his bankruptcy, attempting to leave England, taking with him a part of his property, with intent to defraud— To enter into his own recognizances in 100l. to appear and receive judgment when called upon.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, July 9th, 1873.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. W. SLEIGH the Defence ALFRED HARDING. I am an oilman, at 310, Oxford Street, Stepney—on Saturday, 3rd May, the prisoner came in and said "I want to make you wholesale agent for Perry's Vermin Destroyer," and he produced this packet—he said it was principally used amongst shippers—I bought 30s. worth—3s. 6d. was deducted for snowing the show-board, and I paid him 26s. 6d. for forty-eight packets at different prices—he gave me an account which I gave to the constable at the Police Court—I don't think he mentioned his name—he wrote this invoice in my presence—on Monday, 5th, an old man came in and bought two sheets of paper—he picked up a threepenny packet of Perry's Vermin Destroyer, paid me 3d. for it and went away—we had no conversation about it that time—later on, the same day, the old man came back and gave me this order—he came twice and gave me two orders; I could not swear which he gave me first—about ten minutes after the old man went away the second time, the prisoner came in and made a remark about a board being put up at Stepney Station, as an advertisement for the insect powder—I said he might put it up as he was going to pay for it—that was to advertise the insect powder, and it was to have my name and address as the wholesale agent—he said he was going to see another customer and would I allow him to leave a parcel—I said "Very well"—
when he left I opened the parcel and found it contained vermin destroyer—I went to the door and saw him cross to the right, and the same old man crossed over from the left—they spoke together, and then the prisoner came back to my shop for the parcel—I gave it to him and he left—I followed him and brought him back—I told him I had been swindled—he said that he had had enough trouble to get 30l.—I had been swindled by the old man coming and giving me an order for the vermin powder—I did not charge him then at all—that was all that passed—he did not say anything when I charged him with having sent the old man—when the old man came in he said he had an order for the insect powder, and we must have it ready by 4 o'clock—he ordered two dozen 3d., four dozen 1s., and four dozen 2s.—he said he liked to encourage young beginners—after I said I had been swindled the prisoner went away—the old gentleman did not come again—when he came the second time I offered him all the powder I had in stock, the 2s. packets for a 1s., and the 6d. for 3d.—that was the second time he came, and before I saw them together in the street—at that time I suspected that it was worthless—I tried the powder on bugs, but it did not kill any of them.
MALDON ROBERTS . I am an oilman, at 1, Spring Gardens, Stepney—on Saturday, 3rd May, the prisoner came to my place and asked me if I wanted anything in the haberdashery way—I told him I did not at present, but I thought I might do a little in that way after a while—he said he should be by that way again on Monday, and he would call in—he called on the Monday, and as I was out of carpenters' common lead pencils, I took a few of him and paid for them—he said he had not a price list with him, but he was going to another customer and would call in about an hour and bring a price list of the articles that he dealt in—after he had gone away and left his pencils an old gentleman came in—he was rather tall, with a long beard, and about fifty-five or sixty years old—he asked me if I had any carpenters' pencils, and I told him that I had—he had been in about three times before and took one or two carpenters' pencils then—the price is Id each—on this occasion he gave me this order for goods, amounting to about 4l.—he said he would call in about an hour's time for the goods, and he went out—about half an hour afterwards the prisoner came in and I said "You have got back," and he said "Yes"—he said his customer had not a price list then, but he would send one by post the next day—I then asked him if he had any of the coloured crayons and leads as stated on the order—I showed him the order—he said he had, and I took enough to supply that order—he had all that I wanted with him, the coloured crayons and the leads, too—he did not give me any invoice—I paid him 2l. 4s. for the goods—I took those things in consequence of the old man having previously ordered them—I showed all the things to Mr. Kent, who is an experienced gentleman—the old man never came for the things he had ordered—I spoke to the police the same night; Monday, the 5th—I spoke to Mr. Kent last Wednesday.
Cross-examined. On the Saturday the conversation was simply about haberdashery; nothing about pencils—he was to bring the price list for the purpose of doing a deal together—it was on the Monday that he said he would bring that, before the orders had been given to me—the mention of carpenters' pencils came from me first—he came in a dog cart on the Saturday.
Cross-examined. I have not tested the vermin powder according to the instructions on the paper—if I had had a good sale for it I should not have prosecuted—I don't mean to say that when the prisoner met the old man he turned back and came immediately to my place—they spoke to each other—I did not hear them—they stopped—they might have been a minute or a minute and a half together—the prisoner came back for the packet he had left—he asked me if I had any further orders—it was after the old man had bought the 3d. packet and had given the order that I saw him in the road—the prisoner said he had been to some expense in inserting my name on cards, for the purpose of advertising—I saw some handbills with my name on the back as agent, for distribution in the neighbourhood—he did not say he had been to the expense of about 30l. in advertising me as the agent—I will swear that most positively—I believe I suggested that the board should be put up at Stepney station—I should not care what the vermin powders cost Perry to make, or what the value was as long as I sold them, because I paid a fair price for them—I did not show the old man some of the powder and solicit him to buy before he gave me the order; it was on my counter and he picked a packet up—I did not show the prisoner the order—I saw a dog cart on one occasion when he came—I can't say that it was full of fancy goods.
JAMES KENT . I am a commercial traveller in fancy goods, and I live at 46, Grosvenor Street, Stepney—Roberts showed me some pencils—they were worth 4s. a gross—such pencils as those sell for a half-penny each—the entire lot of crayons and leads would be worth about 4s. or 5s.
Cross-examined. I am not a manufacturer—I deal in pencils amongst other things—I did travel for Josephs, of Great St. Thomas the Apostle, dealer in fancy goods of all descriptions—that includes carpenters' pencils—pencils of such a quality as these are not sold at a penny apiece; a halfpenny is the value for a retail man to sell.
ANN HOBBS . My husband is Henry Hobbs, we live at 1, Harper Street, New Kent Road—on 25th November last, the prisoner came to our shop—an old man had been in before that, about 9.30 or 10 o'clock in the morning—he was about sixty years of age, with rather a dark face, sun freckled—the prisoner came in about half an hour after the old man had gone away—he said "Do you deal in stationery?"—I said "Yes, I shall do so, I only opened on Saturday last"—he said "Is there anything I can serve you with?"—I said "Not this morning, I really don't know what I want at present, if you have any carpenters' pencils, I will take some of you," and I bought a dozen, and he went away—he asked me if I would allow him to leave me a list of his prices as he would call back, and I said "Certainly"—the old man had asked for some carpenters' pencils—the old man came back about half an hour after the prisoner had gone, he gave me this order and went away—after he had gone, the prisoner came back, about 11 o'clock, and said "I am very sorry I could not get you a list of the prices, but I will send you one in an envelope"—I said "I am very glad you have returned, for I have a very nice order for you; have you any pencils like that with you" and I gave him a pattern which had been left by the old man—I also showed him a pattern of the leads—he said "I have exactly the same"—I said "What are they?"—he said "4s. a dozen the pencils, and 4s. per box the leads"—I did not show him the list then, that the old gentleman had left—I bought two dozen pencils of him and paid him 8s. for them, and he went away—the old man returned at 12 o'clock, and said "Will you allow me to
look at your order, as I wish for more"—he ordered some more by word of mouth, and went away—the prisoner came back about twenty minutes afterwards, I said "I am very glad you have returned, because I want some more of the same goods to complete the whole of the order"—I completed the order for the old man and paid the prisoner 2l. 5s. altogether, including the 8s.—I did not show the prisoner the order, but I told him what the old man had given the order for—the old man came in again for a penny nutmeg, he said he had his little granddaughter very ill and she was ordered a little wine and nutmeg—he said "Have you completed my order, I am in a great hurry"—I said "Yes,"—he said "I will call again about 3 o'clock"—when I found he did not come, I told Mr. Potter, and showed him the things—I have not tried to sell them because I was told they were valueless—I saw the prisoner the same night, going into the Brewer's Arms, Bermondsey New Road—I followed him in, he went out at the side door, I went out by another door and caught him by the shoulder and he ran away—I am quite sure he is the man.
Cross-examined. The goods are only valued at 5s. 2d. altogether—the prisoner told me he was a traveller—I should not have bought the things of him if there had been no order—he said he would give me a price list—I did not object to that, because I might have dealt with him at some future time—I should have bought anything I required of him, supposing him to be a respectable traveller.
Cross-examined. I am a stationer and haberdasher—when we buy goods we have to use our own discretion about the value of them.
RICHARD BARNARD (Police Sergeant P 34). On 12th June, I went to the King's Arms, Walworth Road, with Roberts—the prisoner was there—I told him I wanted him—I said "This gentleman is going to charge you with fraud"—he said "Not me; it is a mistake"—I searched him at the station, and found on him 2l. 4s., a watch and chain, a box of leads, and two flash notes.
Cross-examined. He gave me no trouble.
MR. SLEIGH submitted that there was no conspiracy to defraud, but merely to puff and advertise the goods. THE COURT was of opinion that it was for the Jury to say whether it was a fictitious demand, created by a conspiracy between the prisoner and the old man.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Beazley.
Stratford—I have known Beazley five or six years—the has been in my service, at Stratford, about nine months—she was in my shop about twelve months, and I was desirous of opening another shop, and I put her in as manager—I supplied goods from the old shop to. the new one, and she was to sell them if she could—we take deposits for goods, but we keep the article till it is paid for—the second shop was taken about nine months before last April—I had rooms there which I was desirous of letting—I heard that they had been let to Oliver—I went down to the rooms—they were let on Tuesday, I believe, and I went on Saturday night, and, to my surprise, the rooms were let, and I had not heard anything about it—I told Beazley she had no business to let the rooms without my permission and Mr. Cohen's, and she said she knew the person she had let them to to be a highly respectable person; and I said "I have not heard a very good character of her, and at once call her down, and I will give her warning: to leave"—she called Mrs. Oliver down, and I told her she must leave the place Monday or Monday week, as I had heard a very bad character of her—Beazley said "You can but have a good tenant; she is a highly respectable person"—I told her she must leave—she said "Well, as soon as I get a place, I will go;" and I said to Beazley "Mind you have nothing to do with her, as I have heard a very bad account of her"—she remained in the house—some time afterwards I heard something about Oliver and a watch and ring, and I went to Beazley, and said "Is it true, that Mrs. Oliver has been obtaining a ring and a watch under false pretences, somewhere up the street?"—she said "Missis, it is nothing of the kind; it is an untruth"—I said "Well, mind you have nothing to do with her whatever"—I have seen the property which has been produced by the various pawnbrokers and others—it is mine, and had gone from the old shop to the new one—I sent to Beazley, at the new shop, a velvet jacket, a counterpane, five sheets, and a tablecloth—she said a young lady was going to get married, and she could sell them, and make a long price of them—I sent them to the new shop; some of those articles are produced to day, out of pawn—I spoke to her frequently about those articles, and she said she had them carefully put away, with a deposit put upon them—I spoke to her a few days before she left, and she said they were quite safe—there was a dress, which she told me she had an order for, and it was to be trimmed with coloured trimming; it was supplied to her—that is one of the articles produced out of pawn—I sent her three moire antique dresses—she said she wanted two alike, for two sisters, and one would not have it without the other; one of those is produced by a lady who purchased it—I also supplied her with a muff, a collaret, a sealskin jacket, and several blue and grey waterproofs—they are not produced—I did not know that she was going to leave the shop—about a fortnight before Easter she asked me for a holiday—I told her I could not spare her, as she knew the business rested on her down at Stratford—I heard, on the Saturday night, that she had left en the Wednesday, and left a girl, who was under her care, to take care of the things.
Cross-examined. She had asked for a holiday, and her mother asked too—she had the sole care of this shop, to sell what she could, and to get the highest price she could—it was all for ready money, and what she did not sell for ready money she was to keep till it was paid for—she was not instructed to supply the article and receive weekly deposits, and I don't know that she did—I have four shops, two in the Mile End Road—they are not what is called tally shops; they give credit, and I don't give any credit—the
prisoner made payments weekly on what she sold for ready money—she would keep the deposits until the article was fetched—if she sold a dress worth 10l. and received 3l. on account, she kept that 3l. till all the article was paid for—I continued to receive weekly sums up to the time the shop was shut—I did not ask what it was for—she promised to come and give me the deposit money on the Tuesday—she went away on a Saturday, and she came back on a Saturday and I discharged her, and she was to come on the following Tuesday with the money, and tell me what there was to pay on the goods—she did not come on the Tuesday—she promised she would come and settle up my business—I don't know that my shop is a very cheap one.
By THE COURT. I don't know how long Oliver lived at the shop—she was still in the rooms when Beazley left, and remained till after Beazley was in custody—I can't give you the date when Oliver was given in custody.
MICHAEL COHEN . I am the husband of the last witness—I was present several times when my wife spoke to Beazley about Oliver, and I told her to have nothing to do with Oliver, as I had heard a bad account of her from Mr. Cox, the detective—she said "I am not going to have anything to do with her"—Beazley was to receive weekly payments, and not deliver any goods without the full amount was paid, or to sell outright—I did not give her permission to leave the place—she asked if she could have ten days' leave; my wife said she could not think of it, as the business was in her hands we could not spare her—I believe it was Tuesday, the 28th, that she was given in custody—I went to the shop that day, and saw Beazley and Oliver making out bills together in the shop, on my bill-heads—these are the bills, they are in Beazley's writing. (These were bills for goods charged to Mrs. Oliver some of which were produced by the pawnbrokers.)—The property which has been produced I should say was worth about 20l.
Cross-examined. I have got four shops and a wholesale warehouse—I sell anything I can; what I buy, I sell; job lots, and different things—I have a son in one shop and a daughter in another—ray wife managed the business—I know very little of it—I have got a gentleman's clothing shop at Stratford, and I attend to that—I had a very good character with Beazley, and always found her an honest girl—she had no orders to give up any articles without receiving the money; her instructions were to sell for ready cash—she would pay a lump sum per week, but if there were any goods on deposit she would tell me about it—she kept books—she entered in this book (produced) the amount of goods she received from Mrs. Cohen—there is no other book; no deposit book—if a person paid 2s. deposit for a gown, she would give a receipt for that 2s., and a bill is pinned to the article—I can't say that I received all ready money, but I can't swear that I did not.
EDWARD BRESSEY . I am a pawnbroker, of 26, High Street, Stratford—I produce some counterpanes and sheets, pawned for 4l., and a gown for 2l., in December, 1872, and January, 1873, in the name of Holley—I knew the prisoner Oliver as Ann Holley—she was in the habit of pawning goods at my place in that name—I can't say for certain that she pledged these, because the young man has left our employ who took them—she offered a very bad imitation of a sealskin jacket, and that I saw myself, and did not receive; it was not a sealskin at all.
goods pawned at Mr. Bressey's—she told me to try and sell them, and that would pay me what she owed me—I went to Mr. Bressey's and afterwards, from what I heard, I gave the tickets up to Mr. Cohen.
SAMUEL LEVI . I am a pawnbroker, at Stratford—I produce a ticket which refers to a velvet jacket pawned in the name of Wood, on 17th January—I knew Oliver as pawning goods at my shop in that name—I can't say whether she or her daughter pawned this.
ANNIE EDWARDS . I am a tobacconist, at High Street, Stratford—I know Oliver—she showed me some silk dresses trimmed with scarlet, and a sealskin jacket, and she wanted me to buy them—I was net to pay for them then because she came before that and I lent her 6l. on a gold watch and chain and a diamond ring—she said she was very poor, and she was going into business, and she could do very well with a little capital, and I lent them to her—she used to come and ask me to allow her to leave parcels and call for them again—she pleaded great poverty, and I found her to be a swindling bad woman—she took away from me a watch, chain, and a diamond ring, and promised to give me the ring back in two days.
LOUISA PROWSE . I am the wife of a master mariner—I know Oliver—she came to me about some dresses which she said belonged to two unfortunate girls, and one of them was dead and they wanted to bury her—one of the dresses was a moire antique which I have seen in the course of this case—she also showed me a muff and a collaret, and some waterproofs—Oliver owed me money—she said as she was coming into her money, 3,000l., in February, she would pay me—she said if she could not dispose of the property she showed me she should have to pawn some of it—she told me she had pawned the muff and collaret at Mr. Bressey's, and I gave her 2l. for one of the tickets for a dress—I redeemed the article and disposed of it to a friend.
ELLEN LOVEGROVE . On the day that Beazley was taken, she came with her mother to the shop, and she and Oliver went into the kitchen—they were talking together, but I did not hear what they said—they afterwards came into the shop where I was—Beazley took the stock-book in her hand, and looked at it, and I saw her tear a leaf out and tear it up in pieces behind the counter—I told Mrs. Cohen about it, and picked up the pieces; they were too small to put together—I saw her writing on bill heads before that; she tore those up and made out some fresh ones—I did not see what she did with them.
FANNY COHEN (Not examined in chief) (Cross-examined.) I was put there to mind the stall outside, and if I took any money I handed it over to Beazley—I know nothing about these goods being supplied to Oliver—I have not seen Oliver pay Beazley any money—Beazley used to be in the kitchen with Mrs. Oliver—I could not see what was going on in the shop; I was outside—I have seen Beazley serving in the shop, but it was not my business to look after her—I have seen Oliver sometimes there—I never took any money from Oliver—my business was to mind the stall outside, in front of the shop on the pavement—I did not see anything done with the book—I saw writing on the bill heads.
Re-examined. I heard my aunt tell Beazley to have nothing to do with Oliver.
Street, Stratford, with Mr. Cohen—she said "Yes"—I said "They have lost a great quantity of property, do you know anything about it?"—she paused for a moment, and then said "Yes, the woman had it down stairs, she paid me for some, and owes me now 30l. or 40l.; you will see it in the book at Stratford"—I went to the shop at Stratford in the evening and there saw the two prisoners together, and the bill heads attached to the depositions were handed to me by Mr. Cohen—he said "They have done this since they have been together this afternoon"—Beazley made no reply—we afterwards went down stairs to where Oliver was, in the kitchen—Mr. Cohen said he should give them both in custody—I took Oliver after a great deal of trouble—her friends tried to get her away—Beazley was very violent—I was surrounded by about a dozen of Oliver's friends, in the kitchen—Oliver's daughter gave me some pawn tickets, some of which relate to the stolen property.
Oliver's Defence. I am not guilty.
The Jury recommended BEAZLEY to mercy, on account of the loose manner in which the trade was carried on— Six Months' Imprisonment.
OLIVER— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. ROLLINGS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN SCOTT . I live at 6, Maze Hill, Greenwich, and am a mechanic—on Saturday night, 14th June, I met the prisoner near Greenwich Hospital, about 11 o'clock—we went into a public-house—I could not get clear of her—it was getting near 12 o'clock, and she asked me to see her part of the way home—I went to her house—I had a watch in my pocket, which I missed a little while after I got into the room, and on that account I stopped there till morning—I had not been to the water-closet, and the prisoner had not left the room till two hours after I accused her—when I missed it, I said "You have got my watch"—she said that she had not, and if she took one she would take the best one—another female was in the room, and. I asked her if she would do me the favour to go and fetch a policeman—she said that she would not, and the prisoner told me to go and fetch one—I said that I would not go before daybreak, when I could identify where I was—the other woman was there all the while, and she was there when I left to find a policeman—I saw my watch at the station, also my handkerchief—I had not given them to the prisoner.
COURT. Q. Were you the worse for drink? A. Yes; I had not pulled my watches out, there was a chain to one, which was in my waistcoat pocket, and not to the other, that was just inside my pocket—I was not exactly drunk—I saw Mary Connolly point to where she got my watch from, to the closet entrance of the yard—I am sure I did not go there; I can remember all I did—I gave the woman nothing but liquor.
MARY CONNOLLY . I am married, and live at 8, Little Marsland Street, Greenwich—I do not know the prisoner, I have only seen her five or six weeks frequenting this house—I got up very early on Sunday morning, 15th June, because one of my children wanted to go to the water-closet, and as soon as I opened my door I saw a watch in the closet on the floor—there
was no guard to it—this closet belongs to eight houses—I was in bed with my children—I had not been in the room with the prisoner and prosecutor, I am not the same party at all—I heard some feet come down the court—I gave the watch to the policeman.
WILLIAM GOUGH (Policeman R 72). On Sunday morning, 15th June, about 4 o'clock in the morning, Scott made a communication to me, and I went to the house and received the watch from Mrs. Connolly—the prisoner was in the house, No. 6, partly undressed—Scott charged her with stealing his watch—she said "I never saw your watch"—there was another woman up stairs—the prisoner was searched at the station, and this handkerchief was found on her, which she said Scott gave her in the public-house.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerry Esq.
MR. CROME conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM DOLLIN . I am a paperhanger, of 11, Meadow Place, South Lambeth Road—I let out two rooms in lodgings—the prisoner called on 1st May, about 7 p. m., and my wife called me up and said that the prisoner required board and lodging—I said that I should require a reference or a week or two's rent in advance, and asked him about his having no luggage—he said my luggage is coming in the morning; I have just arrived from India, and hold a situation in the India Office, and at 20, Great George Street, Westminster—upon the faith of that I let him have board and lodging—he stayed till 31st May, when I gave him in charge—he blackguarded me most furiously when I asked for my money—the rent was 8s. a week, and my wife supplied him with food—he assigned various reasons for not paying, that the gentleman at the office had got the gout, and that he had been so long away that they did not recognise him at the office—I thought he was a swindler and gave him in charge, for he took away from me what my children and I wanted.
Prisoner. Q. What office did I mention? A. You asked for pen and ink and wrote down "Mr. Lewis, 20, Great George Street"—you asked me how long it would take you to walk from my house to your office in Parliament Street—I said "More than half an hour," and you brought bits of books with Lord So-and-so, and Earl So-and-so, in them—you said "I will pay, I am an honest man"—I said "I doubt it"—I asked you if you were depending on the receipt of money from Great George Street, you said No, that you were in the receipt of 50s. a week, and that would add to your income from the India Office—you said that your remittances from India had not arrived, and that the gentleman who would sign your cheques was at Esher, and had the gout.
AUGUSTA LOUISA DOLLIN . I am the wife of the last witness—on 7th May the prisoner called and desired apartments—he said that he held an appointment in the East India House, and at 20, Great George Street—I asked him for a deposit on a week's money in advance—he said "Certainly, you shall have it"—I let him have the apartment and supplied him each day with half a quartern loaf, a 1/2 lb. of lump sugar, two eggs for his tea, and fish for his breakfast—I sent in a bill at the end of the week, but he said that there was no clerk to pay him—he borrowed a penny of me to write to the barrister at Esher—he never paid me one penny.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I say that I would get a loan from my friends and pay you? A. No; you said that the barrister at Esher had an office at Esher, and that he was coming to my house to see you—you did not say that you were going to obtain a loan from him.
CHARLES ALEXANDER TOOMEY . I am a clerk at the East India Association, and live at 22, Clement's Road, Bermondsey—the Association is established for the promotion of all possible interests in India—the office is at 20, Great George Street—I know the prisoner, he was elected a member of the Association, and has been there several times, but he has no employment there.
Prisoner. Q. Have not I been a member of the Association two and a half years? A. Yes; you used to visit it almost daily up to March this year—the subscription is 25s. a year, but you have to be proposed by a member.
Prisoner. Q. You did not say that at the Police Office? A. Yes; I did, but it is not entered.
ELIZABETH KNIGHT . I am the wife of James Knight, of 266, South Lambeth Road—on 3rd April the prisoner came to our house and asked for board and residence—I asked him for a reference; he gave me two, but begged me not to go about them, and I did not—he said that he had an appointment in the Post Office, which induced me to receive him—he afterwards said that he had an appointment at the East India Office, 20, Great George Street, that he had just come from the country and would not receive his money for a few days—I asked him for a week in advance, and he said that I should have it in the course of a few days—the terms were 1l. 1s. a week—at the end of the week I sent in my account, and he said that I should have it the following Saturday—I applied on Saturday, and he said that I should have it on Monday, and on Monday he said that I should have it the following Saturday—on Saturday I applied again; he did not pay, and I turned him out.
Prisoner. Q. Did I say that I had an appointment, or that I was expecting one? A. That you had one; and that your income was 30s. A week—you have been to see me several times since to account for the delay in paying me.
CATHERINE HOLLOWAY . I am the wife of Thomas Holloway, of South Lambeth Road, a hairdresser—about the latter end of April the prisoner came there, and took our apartments at 5s. a week—he gave me several references, but Sunday coming between I did not go to them—he said that he belonged to the India Office Association, Great George Street, and I did not ask him for a deposit, as I thought he was a respectable man—I supplied him with breakfast and tea—my husband went up to him on the Sunday evening, as he had not paid me, and finding he had no money turned him away on the
Monday morning—his holding a situation under Government induced me to take him.
Prisoner. Q. What office did I tell you I belonged to? A. The India Office; you also said that you were acting as Secretary to the Post Office, but I did not exactly understand.
JANES HOLLINGSWORTH . I am the wife of George Hollingsworth, of 26, Riverhall Street, Wandsworth—on 24th April I returned home and found the prisoner occupying my apartments; my sister had let them to him—on Sunday morning I sent for him, and he said that he was connected with the India Office and the General Post Office—I asked him where he came from, and he said that he had been living at Bliss Dawson's in the Strand—I went and saw her; she told me that he was a swindler, and to be very careful to lock my drawers, for he was not honest—he knew I was going to Miss Dawson's, and said that she was a very severe woman—when I went back he was not there, and he never returned, but he has called several times since.
Prisoner. Q. Did not Miss Dawson tell you that I had paid her? A. Yes; but You have not paid me.
SARAH ANNA HULBERT . I am single, and live in Mr. Hollingsworth's house, with my sister—on 24th April, about 3 o'clock, the prisoner called about apartments—he agreed to pay 4s. a week for his bedroom, and said that he should require breakfast and tea—I asked him for a reference, he referred me to Miss Dawson, York Buildings, Strand, and said that he had an appointment in the India Office, Great George Street, and also at the Post Office, and that his luggage would arrive, he expected, next morning—I was not able to go to the reference—I let him into the house because I considered he must be respectable.
ELIZA HONEY . I am the wife of Thomas Honey, of 5, Leister Street, Wandsworth Road—on 28th April the prisoner called and agreed to take my apartments at 4s. a week, and requested me to supply ham with breakfast and tea—I sent him his bill on Monday morning, and told him I was not in a position to supply him with board; he said "Allow it to go on for a few days, and I will pay it"—I asked him three or four times, and each time he made excuses—it went on from Saturday to Saturday, and I then told him that I could not keep him any longer.
Prisoners Q. Have I been to see you? A. Yes; and I said "I hope you have come to settle my little account"—you said you had not got any money, but that you called to let me see you intended paying me.
SUSAN ASHBURNER . I am a widow, of 37, Jewin Street, Cripplegate—in December, 1869, I took the prisoner as a boarder—he said that he was in the India Office, and had just come from Madras; that he was in the Civil Service, and was in the receipt of his fall pay—he referred me to Captain someone and General White, but I did not go to them, as I saw he was such a respectable man, and I looked in his hat and saw "Madras" in it—I continued to supply him for twenty months, and he owes me 102l. 10s. 2d.—it would have been 114l., but he paid me 12l.—he let ft drop inadvertently that his sister was the wife of Captain F. G. Ward; I wrote to her, and she came to my house and assisted him; and then he paid me the 12l.—he did not pay me any more, but he said he would pay me 50l.—I also lent him money to pay for his letter to India.
Prisoner. Q. Did not my sister act very generously to me? A. Yes; and I hoped she would have done the same to me; but she went to India
without doing so—you told me your mother was going to sell some property and send you some money—you told me that you expected an appointment here, and in pursuance of that object you obtained an introduction to the Postmaster-General, through Sir Henry Montgomery—Sir Henry Montgomery did not give me every assurance that you would pay me; he said "I fear you will never get a penny."
RICHARD DICKENSON . I am Assistant Financial Secretary at the India Office, Charles Street, Westminster—I have looked through the register of the India Office of the names of officers on furlough to find a name corresponding to the prisoner's, and through all the Madras Gazettes, but find no such name—I know nothing of the prisoner in connection with the India Office, but when I got to the Police Court I thought I knew him by sight—he might have been loitering about the passages—if a person is on furlough more than three months, he only receives half-pay—the prisoner has never received any pay from the India Office, nor is he in any way connected with the India Service, as far as I know.
Prisoner. Q. Is the record you keep of superior appointments? A. Yes; the Gazettes contain several other appointments—separate books are kept, and your name does not appear in either since 1867—we have registers of local as well as of Imperial appointments—there are appointments in India of which I know nothing, but not Government appointments—we have a record of all appointments down to that of overseer—the Government in India make a return to us of all appointments, but if they omit a name, of of course we don't know anything about that—if Sir Henry Montgomery obtained you an introduction, that is a perfectly private matter.
COURT. Q. You do not know the names of the watchmen of Calcutta? A. No, that is native; the prisoner applied officially for an introduction to the Post Office, and was refused.
The prisoner in his defence stated that after he had been in England some time, he learned that the Comptroller of the Civil Service in India had disallowed his claim to an appointment, but that it was understood that the matter would be reconsidered after his return; that Mrs. Ashburner did not place confidence in him from his own statements, but from seeing his sister, and that he did not say that he was employed in the Post Office, but that he was visiting the Post Office, which was the fact, and that lodging-house keepers were peculiarly liable to this sort of thing.— GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
REV. JACKSON SMTTH . I am minister of the Presbyterian Church at Armagh, Ireland—I know the prisoner as Berson Reuben Allender—in 1870 he came to Armagh as assistant-master at the Royal School there—he gave lessons in German, and, I believe, had classes—there was a gentleman living there named Kidd, who had a daughter, Emily Gambia Kidd—the prisoner was married to her on 8th March, 1871, by me, in my church—he signed himself "Berson Reuben Allender" in the Marriage Register—when he came to Armagh he called on me, and sent in his card—I received him in my study—he told me his name was Allender; in fact, Allender was on the card; that he was a converted Jew, and had been in college in Edinburgh, and was to be a clergyman in connection with the Free Church of
Scotland, and was about to receive ordination—he told me he had been two winters at the Free College, and on writing to the Professors I found he had only been there two months altogether—he left the young lady in the following June—I produce the register signed by the parties—I saw his wife on Friday week last—I know under what circumstances he left her.
Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner pretty intimately, and he pestered me by coming to my house nearly every day—he preached once in church, and once in the lecture-room, for me; that was when he came first—when I began to know a little about him, I would not let him preach—Mr. Kidd has four daughters alive—two of them are a little alike—there is a family likeness amongst them all—I know them very well—I never mistook one daughter for another—I am satisfied that the person I saw In June is the person I married in March, 1871—she did not leave him by my advice—it was represented that he pointed a pistol at her breast—I heard there were differences.
REV. AUBREY CHARLES PRICE . I am vicar of St. James, Clapham—on 20th February, 1873, I married the prisoner to a lady named Emily Sarah Boulton, at my church—he gave the name of Reuben Allender Berson—I produce the register of marriage.
Cross-examined. I am quite certain the prisoner is the same person.
GUILTY . There was another indictment against the prisoner for suborning a witness to commit perjury.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FRITH the Defence.
JAMES BROWN . I am a foreman in Reid's Brewery, and live at 52, Leather Lane—on the night of 2nd July, mv wife and I were in the neighbourhood of St George's Circus—we stopped to buy some strawberries—she remained in the trap, and I gave a man a shilling to fetch them—I went into an urinal—on coming out, I saw my chain drop, and missed my watch—the prisoner is the man who took it—he ran away, and I ran after him—he was stopped by a constable—I don't believe I lost sight of him—I called "Stop thief!"—my watch was given me afterwards by a constable—it was worth about 3l. 10s.
Cross-examined I had been to the Crystal Palace Licensed Victuallers' dinner—I gave even the bottle of wine I paid for to the two waiters—if I have said the prisoner is not the man, I have not told the truth—mv chain was on my waistcoat, as it is now—the urinal was not particularly dark—I did not notice whether there was more than one lamp—I was coming out, and this man stood in my way—I felt a tug at the chain, and he ran away—I can swear to him—I don't recollect not swearing to him—I did not tell the constable it was the wrong man.
Re-examined. I ran after him instantly, and he was not out of my sight before he was in the hands of the constable—I believe the prisoner is the same man that I gave the shilling to.
EDWARD SEWELL . I am a costermonger, and live at School House Yard, Westminster—on the night of 2nd July, I was standing at the comer of Duke Street, St. George's Square—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw a lot of people running, and a man running before them—as he passed, he threw a hat under my barrow—I picked it up, and took it to the station.
Cross-examined. There was a crowd—I don't know whether the prisoner is the man who threw the hat away.
THOMAS PIKE (Policeman L 232). I was on duty, and heard cries of "Stop thief!"—a crowd came round from Duke Street—the prisoner was running first—I followed—he ran into the Westminster Road as I got up to him—he drew something out of his trousers pocket, and threw it away between the rails of the church—I could not see at the time what it was—I caught him—we struggled together—I asked him what it was he threw away; he said "Nothing," and he succeeded in getting away from me—I followed him again, and he was stopped in Joiner Street by another constable—I went back to St. Paul's Church, where I saw him throw something away, and found the watch which the prosecutor identified.
Cross-examined. There was a large crowd, and a good many people running—the prisoner's back was turned to me when he threw the watch away—he was about 5 yards ahead of me—when he turned round the corner of Duke Street I saw his face—he rushed past me—he took what he threw away from his right-hand pocket—he had no hat on.
WILLIAM PEACOCK (Police Inspector L). The prisoner was brought to the station, and Sewell afterwards gave me a hat—I took it into the parade-ground, where the prisoner was—he jumped up from the seat, and said "That is my hat, sir," took it from my hand, and put it on his head—he had no hat on when ho was taken—Sewell said that a man went running past his barrow, and threw it underneath his barrow—the prisoner said nothing to that.
GUILTY .—He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in January. 1866.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
JOHN WEBB . On the evening of 24th June I was in the Lower Marsh, in a public-house—I was sober—the witness King went in with me—we were having some beer—the prisoners were there—as I sat on the seat the female prisoner came and asked me for some ale—I said I should not give her any—a few minutes after that she came and snatched my watch out of my fob and left the chain behind, which I produce, broken from the swivel—she went out at the door—I called to King, and said "She has got my watch"—I was knocked down by the male prisoner inside the door—it was a violent blow; I had a black eye for a week—when I recovered my senses I went outside—the male prisoner was there—I told him I should give him in charge, and he knocked me down again—I went to Tower Street, and gave information—I saw the prisoner again that night at the corner of Tower Street—I was with King—I said to the prisoner "I shall give you in charge"—he said "Come out in the road, and I will give you a b----good hiding"—he knocked me about then—I saw him afterwards in a public-house, and a constable came up and took him—I am sure he is the man—I gave 4l. 17s. for the watch.
Morris. Q. Do you swear I knocked you down inside the house? A. Yes—I did not kick up against the stump of your leg that I am aware of; I might have done so, as I was after your sister—the governor did not turn us all out—I did not strike you on the nose outside the house.
Sarah. Q. Did not you treat toe twice? A. No—there was no row, only when you snatched the watch, and win out of the door.
WILLIAM KING . I was at this public-house, the Spanish Patriot, at 7.30, with Webb—the two prisoners were there—I was standing at the bar—I saw the prisoner Morris knock Webb down; that first attracted my attention—I went and picked him up—I did not know what had happened—Webb had hold of the female prisoner, and when he was knocked down she went out—I picked him up, and asked him what had happened—we went outside, and went to the police-station—I went afterwards with constable Davis to a little street in the Cut, where I saw the female prisoner—there was a crowd outside the public-house after it was said the watch had been lost.
Morris. Q. Did your friend say anything, before he was knocked down, about losing a watch? A. Not that I am aware of—you knocked him down—we were not long before we went outside—you knocked him down on the pavement again outside—I did not see any policeman—Webb was bleeding; I don't think you were—we met you afterwards in the Waterloo Road; Webb took hold of you, and you had another scuffle there—I am not aware that he was drinking with the females in the public-house; we had a pot of ale.
Sarah. Q. Did not you treat me and another female? A. No—I did not give the man a pot of beer.
WILLIAM AROHER . I keep the Spanish Patriot—on the evening of 24th June, I saw Webb and King and the two prisoners in my house—they were all drinking—I saw the female prisoner go out after a time—the prosecutor followed her—he was standing against the door after she went out—the male prisoner was standing against the door—they began talking very loud, and I requested them to leave the bar—I did not see any blow struck—there was a disturbance outside—Webb was not knocked down in the house—they sill went out together as quiet as possible.
Morris. Q. Was I not bleeding at the nose? A. I don't know, I did not see you outside—I did not see you strike the man in the house—I did not see the prosecutor drinking with the female.
Sarah. Q. Did I run away? A. You walked out of the bar—I did not see you take anything from Webb—he did not say he had lost his watch; had he done so I should have jumped over the bar myself.
COURT. Q. Could Webb have been knocked down at the bar without your seeing it? A. Decidedly not—I was at that end of the bar, serving the customers.
Morris's Defence. I lost my leg twelve months ago. I know nothing of the watch; the master told us to go outside; the man struck me on the nose without any previous provocation.
Sarah's Defence. I knew nothing at all about the watch till I went to Tower Street.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. CHARLES MATTHEWS the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Deputy Recorder.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; MR. LILLEY appeared for Charles Hooper, and MR. J. R. WRIGHT for the three otlier prisoners.
WILLIAM LARDER (Policeman M 12). About 12.30 on Monday morning, 23rd June, I was called to 8, Osborne Buildings, Bermondsey, and saw the deceased John Rowland; he was insensible, and appeared severely injured—he was lying on the floor of the back room—there was a bruise on his face, extending from his eye to his chin—I sent him to Guy's Hospital, and on the same afternoon, about 5.30, I went to Blackman Street, Borough, and took Charles Hooper in custody—I told him he was charged with causing the death of John Rowland—he said "I am very sorry, I did not think it would come to this; but Rowland began it"—on the Tuesday, I took A. H. Hooper, at Great Suffolk Street, Borough, and told him he was charged with aiding and abetting and inciting Charles Hooper to fight with Rowland, whereby Rowland came by his death—he said "All right, I will go with you; it is a bad job"—I afterwards took J. E. Hooper, and said the same to him—he said "All I did in the matter was, I said 'Give it to him, Charley'"—I took Cecilia Rowland next day, Wednesday; she was the deceased's wife—he was then dead—I told her she would be charged with the same offence as her two brothers, namely, aiding and abetting them to fight—she said "There has been a deal of false swearing in the matter"—I believe the male prisoners are brothers—two of them had been before the Magistrate; Cecilia might have been present.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Before I took either of the other prisoners there had been a hearing before the Magistrate, and several witnesses had been examined.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. The only thing Joseph said was "Give it to him, Charley."
EDMUND SEARING . I live at 6, Osborne Buildings, and am assistant to a hop merchant—I know the prisoner Joseph by sight, and have seen Cecilia once or twice—I know that two or three of them lived in Osborne Buildings, but I did not know what their names were—I had seen the deceased, but did not know his name—he lived at 8, Osborne Buildings—about 11.30 on Sunday night, I heard shouts and scuffling of feet outside No. 6, where I live, on the first floor—my brother-in-law lives below—I ran out, and heard Cecilia screaming out "Pay him, Charlie! give it to him! give it to the b----! murder him, he deserves it! the b—told me to go and f—myself!"—I saw Charles Hooper fighting with the deceased; they seemed to be struggling together, and the deceased fell on the back of his head, and lay there—it was a severe fall; you could hear it at the top of the buildings, I should think—when Cecilia said "Give it to him! pay him!" Charles Hooper said "Yes, I mean paying him," or some expression like that, and Joseph and Harry were then shouting out "Pay him," and "Give it to him"—I went and helped the poor fellow up, and put him against a fence; and Mr. Turpin, who knew him, said, "Rowland, you are not fit to fight that man; go indoors"—Rowland made a sort of murmuring noise—I believe it would have been all over then, but Cecilia began inciting the men again—she said "Pay him!" and "Murder him! he has wanted it for seven years; give it to him!"—that called my attention off, and when I looked round again, I saw the deceased and Charles Hooper struggling together again—they both fell together, the deceased underneath—Hooper
was lifted off him by, I think, A. H. Hooper, and then the deceased got up without any assistance—I saw Charles Hooper strike him several blows, but did not see that they were returned—after that, Rowland was bleeding from the left side of his face; the blood spurted out—his eye seemed all bruised and bloody; his nose seemed bleeding, and there was a scratch on the right side of his face—they then had another struggle, and Hooper struck Rowland on the side of his head half way, and he lay there and seemed senseless—I picked him up, and put him against the fence, where I put him befere, and told him to go indoors, where I live—almost immediately after that a policeman came and took him indoors—Charles Hooper disappeared when the policeman came—during those three struggles, Cecilia was crying out most of the time, not all the time—the other two were also calling out—the deceased was drunk, and incapable of taking care of himself—Charles Hooper was sober, as far as I could see—it was when the policeman took the dead man into the house, that Cecilia said "The b----told me to go and f—myself"—she also said "He has been waiting for this for seven years, and now he has got what he richly deserves"—Charles Hooper struck him, I should say, quite twenty blows on his face and body; it might be more or less.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. The first round I saw was about two minutes after I went out—although I use the word "fighting "and "round, "I swear that I never saw Rowland strike; he was so drunk he did not know what he was about—I saw him defending himself, putting his hands in this manner, but I did not see him strike a blow—I did not see the first of it, but what I saw lasted ten or twelve minutes—I did not during that time go away to fetch the police—I picked up Rowland, and other people picked up Charles Hooper, who might have been down more than once, as there might have been more rounds than I saw—once he was down in the second round, he went down on top of the deceased—I picked the deceased up, and invited him to my house, and left him in conversation with my brother-in-law, Turpin—I daresay Rowland knew he was struggling, and trying to fight somebody—No. 312 conducted him into his own house, and left him there.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I was there about twelve minutes—I cannot say how long after I went there I saw him first, I was excited; I believe he was there when I picked the man up, when he fell on his head, because I had some conversation with him—about fifty people were there, a regular crowd—my brother-in-law was at a fence which divides our court from his—A. H. Hooper was urging it on; I believe he said "Give it to him, Charley! pay him I"—some of the people cried "Shame!"—Joseph was saying "Go it!" and "Give it to him!"—I heard Cecilia shouting before I went out; the window was open—I believe there was another round before that, before he got the death-blow on his head—I most decidedly swear that another round took place after I heard Cecilia scream out what I have said!
MATTHIAS TURPIN . I am a foreman of fellmongers, and live at 5, Bermondsey Buildings—I know the prisoners, Alfred and Joseph, by sight, but I had never seen Charles—I had seen Rowland several times—on this Sunday evening I was undressed, and was going to bed, when I heard a noise, went out, and saw Charles Hooper and Rowland fighting—Rowland was as though he was stupified; he did not appear sober—I saw Charles Hooper strike the deceased twice, and then he fell to the ground—I saw them get up, and after that I saw Charles Hooper strike two more blows; they
tumbled down again, and I cried "Shame!"—I saw no blows struck by Rowland—I saw the other two prisoners, but I don't think they said or did anything while I was there—Cecilia said "Pay him, Charley! pay him! he deserves all he gets," and she afterwards used some very bad words—I saw the constable come up.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I was not there at the beginning, I was there at the finish—I saw two rounds—I have seen a fight before, but I never fought in my life—I have forgotten all about school—I did not say before the Magistrate "The prisoner is an entire stranger to me."
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. There was a great crowd—during the time I was there neither Alfred nor Joseph did anything—Cecilia called out something, and after that no more fighting took place; I am certain of that.
ANN HORGAN . I live at 4, Osborne Buildings, and know the prisoner—I also knew the deceased—on the Sunday night I was standing at mv door, and saw John Rowland come out of his house, No. 8, about 11.30—he was drunk—the Hoopers live at No. 5—Charles and Joseph were outside their door and the two Mrs. Hoopers, old and young—Rowland went in the direction of Charles Hooper, and said "Give me your hand, Charles"—they shook hands, and Charles's wife said "Give him your heart"—the deceased said "I cannot give you my heart, because it is in the same place it always was, and I can't move it, you have been threatening to give me a big punch in the eye"—diaries Hooper then struck him in the face with his fist, and knocked him against the wall; Rowland had his hand up, but did not strike—Charles Hooper took off his coat, and put it on a window ledge, and they went close together, and were trying to chuck one another down, and Rowland fell down at my feet—Charles Hooper struck the deceased in the face twice after he was down, and one of the brothers said "Give it to him, Charley! he deserves it," and then Joseph picked him up by my feet: a large crowd came before me, and the men got further away—I did not see what happened, and was persuaded to go in doors—I heard Mrs. Rowland say "He has been threatened for seven years; give it to him, Charley! give it to him!"—I did not see any more.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Rowland's hands were up like this, but I don't think he had the power to strike; he was the wus for liquor, and was straggling from one side to the other—I have not said before the Magistrate that Rowland hit him once (It appeared by the witness's deposition that she did say so)—the prisoners both picked Rowland up—I did not say before the Magistrate that Rowland was struck while he was down; I was confused, but I said it at the inquest—there was one day between, but I had not been talking to anybody—Rowland was not as big as these men.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. There was a large crowd—I don't know who said "Give it to him, Charley!"—it was to one of the bystanders that Cecilia said that it had been threatened seven years.
Re-examined. I cannot say that Rowland was a lame man.
SUSAN FRANCES DATER . I am the wife of George Dayer, of 15, Osborne Buildings—I heard a row going on, went out, and I saw the fight—I took Mrs. Rowland by the hand, and said "Mrs. Rowland, stop it"—she said "No, b----y fear, he has asked for it for seven years, let him have it"—I saw Rowland against the fence after the fight was over, he was drunk.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I went to Mrs. Rowland, because being the wife, I thought she could stop her husband.
JOHN HALDEN (Policeman M 312). I was called, and saw Charles Hooper coming out as I went up the buildings—I asked Mrs. Rowland what the row was about—she said "This has been brewing for seven years; he has asked for my brothers, the f—b—y s—, and he has got what he richly deserves"—I then saw Rowland leaning against a fence close by, bleeding at the nose, and Joseph Hooper near him—I asked Rowland what this noise was about—he said "It is all right; I know what I am about"—I persuaded him to go in—he had his coat on—Charles Hooper's coat was not off.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Bowland was 6 yards (from his own door and 3 yards from Mrs. Rowland—he was about the same size at Harry Hooper—he was able to speak, and he walked indoors—he did nos look seriously injured, but his nose was bleeding—it was 11.30 when I advised him to go in, and he went in—I left him at his own door, and went away.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I know the neighbourhood well—there are some roughs there, and some hard working people—a crowd soon accumulates—I have been on the beat five weeks, and never heard a row before—Cecilia seemed excited—what she said was "He has been asking for my brother, the f----b----y s----"
GEORGE JAMES ROWBY SMITH . I was house surgeon at Guy's Hospital on 23rd June—John Rowland was brought in at 1 o'clock in the day, insensible—his wife was with him—his left eye was swollen and blackened—there were grazes on his left cheek, and a bruise on the left side of his head—he was taken into one of the wards—I could see ha was dying, and he died five or seven minutes after he cams in—his appearance was that of a man who had his skull fractured—the post-mortem was made by Dr. Goodhart.
JAMES FREDERICK GOODHART , M. D. I am surgical registrar at Guy's Hospital—I made a post-mortem examination of the deceased on 24th June—the head was much bruised on the left aids, and also on lbs hack and on the right side—the skull was broken oh the right side, and one of the vessels was torn across-there was a large clot of blood between the skull and the membranes covering the brain—in my judgment the cause of death was pressure of blood on the brain—the slot of Wood closely corresponded with the fracture—a heavy fall wish the head on the ground might cause it—as far as I could judge from appearances, he was a healthy man; ail liver was very healthy—his age appeared twenty-eight or thirty-one.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. A fell on the pavement anywhere, indoors or out of doors, would produce what I saw, if he struck his head—a paved wash-house would sorts as well as a paved street.
The three male prisoners received food characters.
CHARLES HOOPER and CECILIA ROWLAND— Five Years' Penal Servitude each. JOSEPH and ALFRED HOOPER— Two Years' Imprisonment each.
MR. J.R. WRIGHT and MR. GOODMAN conducted ike Prosecution; and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
and saw the prisoner holding Collins under a railway arch, in the attitude of choking him—he threw him on the kerb and fell on him; he picked him up and fell with him again—he fell on his back and the prisoner on him—I went and helped Collins up; the prisoner had got up—I said to him "You hare killed the man"—he said "I don't care a b----"—the prisoner was a little intoxicated—I carried Collins towards the wall—he was insensible—I called a policeman to him, and went to Bermondsey Street Station and got a stretcher, and when I returned with it I saw the deceased lying in a van, insensible—the prisoner had gone into a public-house—I went to Guy's Hospital, and helped to take the deceased into a ward.
Cross-examined. I was 20 or 25 yards off—I did not see the deceased strike the prisoner, or the prisoner strike him—I saw the two falling; I can say the prisoner threw him down and fell on him—I did say on my second examination, "I cannot say exactly how he fell, but the prisoner seemed stooping towards him"—I said he got hold of him and threw him on the kerb—you are trying your utmost to make me tell lies—I am saying just what I did see—when the Magistrate asked me if I saw the prisoner lift him, I said I did not know whether he lifted him, but I saw him throw him—it was not the effect of a blow, it was through pitching him down on the back of his head, and falling with him—I can't say whether the man put is head down; I saw him with his hands round the man's body, round the lower part of his back—the prisoner fell with the deceased, but he got up, and then I found the deceased's head had struck against the kerb—I don't know whether the deceased was in liquor or not, the prisoner was a little the worse for liquor.
CHARLOTTE COLLINS . I am the wife of Jeremiah Collins, of 10, Lamb Alley, Bermondsey, the deceased was my husband's brother—on Saturday night, 7th June, I went to Guy's Hospital, and saw him there on a stretcher I thought he was insensible—I asked him if he had hurt his head; he said he had—he seemed to know me—he did not speak after—he was in good health before—his age was forty-one last March.
Cross-examined. I went to the hospital next morning to take him some clean linen—he was still insensible, and I stayed with him till he died—he used to take a drop too much at times.
ROBERT HUMPHREYS (Policeman M 123.) On 7th June I was on duty and found the deceased insensible under a railway arch—he was on the kerb stone—Monk went to the station for a stretcher, but I lifted the deceased into a van, and took him to the hospital—I did not see what took place but I saw the prisoner leaving the spot as I came up.
JAMES DARGANELL (Policeman M 126). On 8th June I took the prisoner, and told him Collins was dead—he said "I am sorry for it, it is a bad job; we were drinking together all yesterday, and left the Rose to go and have a fight; I struck him, and he fell; and his head must have caught the kerb."
STEPHEN BOND . I am a packing-case maker, of Bermondsey—on Saturday, 7th June, I was at the Rose public-house, and I saw the prisoner there—Collins came in, and spoke to the prisoner—they seemed the worse for liquor—they left almost immediately, and I saw them go down the street side by side, and go under the railway arch—I saw them opposite each other, looking at each other for a couple of minutes—the prisoner pulled his coat off; then he put it on again, then pulled it off again, and handed it to a lad who was standing by—I saw Collins button his coat up—they went into the middle of the road, and sparred together—the deceased's cap
fell off in the first round—they then fought another round, and I ran to stop them, but before I could rush up, the prisoner struck the deceased a blow in the chest, and he fell backwards with his head across the kerb—I went to look for a policeman, and I saw the prisoner coming towards Russell Street, away from the spot—I said "You have well nigh killed that man"—he said "I don't care; I am not going to be imposed upon by people"—I helped to put Collins into the van.
Cross-examined. I never saw them arm-in-arm—Collins' back was towards me when they first began to spar, so I can't tell whether he struck Davis or not—I saw them both fighting, but I did not see how the blows were being struck—I was about 50 yards off—Collins had just fallen as I reached the spot—I did not see Davis on the ground—I heard no quarrelling while they were at the Rose.
ARTHUR STYLES . I am a porter at the South Eastern Railway—on Saturday, 7th June, between 6 and 7 o'clock, I was in the Giant public-house, and heard cries outside—I went out, and saw the prisoner and Collins 8 or 9 yards off, about two yards apart, facing each other—I did not see the beginning of it—I saw Davis strike Collins either on the chest or throat, and he fell with his head on the kerb—his month was bleeding—the deceased seemed to be sparring.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's back was towards tee; they were both sparring, but I did not see Collins strike a blow—there was only one blow—I was in a position to ate; I saw Collins put himself in a fighting attitude but Davis did not strike him more than one blow—I ran down Church Street directly he fell, to find out where he lived.
JOHN ADAMS . I am a carman, of 95, Bermondsey Street—I was outside the Rose with Dan McCarthy—Collins name, up and spoke to me, and then went into the Rose—about a quarter of an hour after, Davis came up, and asked me whether I would treat him—I said I did not have any money—he said "I have only 2d., it is no use treating anybody," and went into the Rose—Collins came out again in twenty minutes or half an hour, and told me he was going to get a cup of tea—I told huh it was the beat thing he could do, and he would get sober—he then walked round a van and horses standing there, and hit the off side horse in the mouth, and then went into the Rose again—he afterwards came out with the prisoner arm-in-arm—they walked as far as the arch, and I saw Collins throw off his cap—I ran up and saw Davis taking off his coat, and then I saw them spar up together—Collins said "Are you ready? and Davis said "Are you ready?" and as soon as Davis said that, Collins struck Davis in the mouth, and knocked him down—Davis got up again and they sparred together—Davis made a hit at Collins' chest, and if he did hit him, it was not very hard, but he staggered back and fell on the kerb—when a man is drunk, as he was, the least touch will make him stagger back; he would almost stagger back by himself—I saw him lying there, and saw his head was not bleeding—I went to Davis and said "He is dead"—he said either that he could not help it, or he did not care—a lot of people were shoving about at the time—Collins was lifted up and set up on the pavement, with his back against the wall, and they brought some water and put on his head.
Cross-examined. They were both very drunk—I knew them both before.
JAMES BUTLER . I saw the two men sparring up to one another, and Davis made a dart to hit the other on the face, but instead of that he bobbed his head down, got hold of his two legs, and pitched him up, and
his head fell on the kerb—I was as near them as you are to me—I sat thorn step into the road.
Cross-examined. I did not go under the arch—I saw them tucking up their sleeves—I was then about 40 yards from them—Davis's hack was towards me—I did not see Collins strike Davis, or Davis strike Collins—I did not see Adams—I did not see Davis on the ground—I saw Monk there; I saw him run up the street—I did not see him again that day—he has art talked to me about the matter—I did not notice what he said before the Magistrate—I did not see Styles.
Re-examined. I knew the prisoner and the deceased—I work in the same yard with them, and was en good terms with both—I never saw them quarrel—2 did not come to give my evidence till I was asked.
CUTHBERT HILTON GOLDIN BIRD . I am junior house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital—I did net see the deceased alive—I made a postmortem examination—I found no external signs of injury, but there was a bruise under the scalp, running from behind forward an a level with the left ear—there was a fracture of the skull, extending in the same direction; it was a slit or fissure, and another started from the same point behind, and ran down towards the base of the skull, where it divided into two—I found Wood formed out on the surface of the brain, in sufficient quantities to cause death—the brain itself was bruised in front and behind, and clots of bleed on it; that was the result of blows—the injury to the brain killed him—the injuries were such as would be caused by a heavy fall on the kerbstone—his body was healthy.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was in the Rose on Saturday evening. I and Collins were drinking together. I don't know how the row was caused. Collins wanted me to fight, and we walked across Russell Street and down Church Street together. We stood out in the road and began sparring together. Collins hit me in the month then, and I hit him back again About knocking him down, I know nothing about that I did not catch hold of his legs, I am sure of that. I did not know I had injured the man at all till the Inspector came down on Sunday morning and told me."
GUILTY.Recommended to mercy by the Jury — Four Months' Imprisonment.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, AUGUST 18TH, 1873.