CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SIXTH SESSION, HELD APRIL 7TH, 1874.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS & SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Tuesday, April 7th, 1874, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. ANDREW LUSK, M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir WILLIAM BALIOL BRETT, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., JOHN CARTER , Esq., Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., and Sir SYDNEY HEDLEY WATERLOW , Knt., Alderman of the, said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq., JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, Esq., and JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERB, 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.
CHARLES WHETHAM, Esq., Alderman.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
LUSK, MAYOR. SIXTH 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.—Tuesday, April 7th, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
The Prisoner stating in the hearing of the Jury that he was guilty of un-lawfully wounding, they found that verdict.—To enter into his own recognizance in 500l. to appear and receive judgment if called upon.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 7th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
235. AMELIA WEST (41), PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering an order for 43l., also an order for 20l., also an order for the delivery of a cheque-book/.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutors— Four Months' Imprisonment.
237. JOHN WILLIAMS (27) , to stealing, whilst employed in the Post Office, a post-letter, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General—Five Years' Penal Servitude. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
238. CHARLES WOOTTEN (30) , to stealing knives, forks, and other articles, of Charles Davis, his master, after a previous conviction at Clerkenwell in October, 1871 **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. FRITH conducted the. Prosecution.
CHARLES ALDRIDGE . I am a joiner, of Warwick Place, Pimlico—on the night of 2nd October I went to bed between 10.30 and 11 o'clock—I got up next morning, and missed my watch and chain from the dressing table in my bedroom, also three coats, two pairs of trowsers, two vests, and in the pocket of the clothes was a purse containing 155., a knife, a pipe, some gloves, a handkerchief, and other things—about a month afterwards I was called to Arbour Square station, and saw my pocket-book and some of the other things there, which I identified.
WILLIAM LILLYSTONE (Detective Officer K). On 15th October the prisoner was brought to Arbour Square station—I searched him, and among a great number of articles, found these things (produced), which the prosecutor identified.
SQUIRE WHITE (Detective Sergeant B). On 28th January I met the prisoner coming from Clerkenwell Prison—I took him in custody, and told him it was for committing several larcenies in the B division—he said nothing—he was taken to the Cottage Road station, where some of the property was identified—after he had been before the Magistrate, he called me to the cell, and wished me to see a young woman named Maria, and ask her to come and see him—he then told me that I should find Mr. Aldridge's watch pledged either in a pawnbroker's opposite Victoria Railway Station, or in Buckingham Palace Road—he also told me where I should find other property, but said that he was so bothered then, that he would write to me—I afterwards received this letter by post. (This was dated "Newgate, February 5th," from the Prisoner to Sergeant White, giving the names and addresses of the pawnbrokers where the different articles were pawned.)
GEORGE CHILVERS . I am a waiter at Victoria Station, and live at 5, Warwick Place, Pimlico—I closed the house on this night, and next morning found the closet window open on the staircase, which had been closed the night before, but not fastened—I found a few marks—there was plenty of room for a person to get in, but they would have to get on top of a washhouse first; there was no other way of getting in.
Prisoner's Defence. I bought the property for 3l. 17s. 6d. of one of my shipmates, Thomas Foster, who told me that he had come over from the West Indies in the Omer Pacha, and had not been paid off. Some of the articles were pawn-tickets. The knife, cigar case, and pipe, were found in the pocket of the wearing apparel. My vessel, the Adelaide, has not returned from sea, or I could prove that I was not on shore at the time the robbery was committed. The Omer Pacha has sailed for Australia.
Prisoner. I knew by the tickets where the articles were pledged, when they were described. I arrived in England at 4.30 a.m. on 4th September. I went from Dock Head to the Downs in the Adelaide, and did not return till the flood tide. I was ordered by Captain Denton to meet his wife at Victoria Station, and while waiting there I met Foster with the goods.
NOT GUILTY . (See Third Court, Thursday.)
THIRD COURT,—Thursday April 7th, 1873
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
JANE COTTLE . On 2nd February, at 6.30, the prisoner came into my shop for a quarter of a pound of cheese which was 2 1/2 d.—he tendered a shilling, which I tried and found to be bad—I told him so, and I broke it in his presence—I gave my husband one of the pieces which ho afterwards returned to me—the prisoner put the cheese into his pocket and ran out of the shop—my husband ran after him and brought him back—a constable was fetched and he was given into custody—I gave the broken pieces to the constable.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were remanded, and we did not appear after the week's remand—we thought perhaps a week would do you good and we did not want to do any more.
WILLIAM COMPTON (Policeman E 92) I produce some pieces of a counterfeit shilling which I received from Mrs. Cottle—I took the prisoner—he said a mate he used to work with gave it to him to get something to eat—he was remanded and discharged on 9th February.
KATE DAVIS . I am employed by Mr. Bush, of 33, Great St Andrew's Street—on Saturday night, 28th February, about 9 o'clock p.m., in the prisoner came and asked for a pennyworth of candy—he tendered a bad shilling which I tried and bent—I took it into the parlour and gave it to Mr. Bush—he spoke to the prisoner—a constable was sent for and the prisoner was given into custody with the shilling.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not tell you the shilling was bad because I had had a great many shillings passed that week and Mr. Bush told me the next shilling that was given to me I was to take into the parlour—I never saw you in the shop before.
Prisoner's Defence. I was paid 3s. 6d., and I changed the half-crown somewhere—I was drunk when this occurred.
GUILTY .**— Two Years Imprisonment.
ROBINA FAIRE . I am barmaid at the Green Dragon, Maddox Street—on 3rd March, about 3 o'clock, the prisoner came in and called for a glass of beer—he tendered a bad sovereign in payment—I spoke to the landlord and gave him the coin.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the prisoner before—I asked him if he knew it was bad, and he made no answer—he did nut ask me for the change.
ROBERT MUFFETT . I am landlord of the Green Dragon—last witness gave me a sovereign and pointed out the prisoner—I went round to him and asked him where he got it from—he said from the Canteen at Woolwich—I sent my potman for a constable but he could not find one—the potman took hold of him and he said "Don't collar me, I will go quietly"—directly he got to the Union Bank he tried to make his escape down King Street—the potman ran after him and stopped him, and I gave him to Constable C 141 and charged him with uttering counterfeit coin—I gave the sovereign to the constable.
Cross-examined. I think he said he got the sovereign in change for some silver at the Canteen—my potman did not lay hold of him roughly—there was a struggle when he attempted to run away.
LEO HUNTER I am potman to Mr. Muffett—he sent me for a constable—I could not find one and returned, and Mr. Muffett told me to take hold of the prisoner—he said going across the road "Don't take hold of me; I don't wish people to see a soldier dragged through the street"—as we were crossing over Regent Street into Marlboro' Street, he said something, and off he bolted across the road, just as we got to King Street—I followed and caught him, he stooped his head down and struggled to get away—I felt his coat was slipping, so I caught hold of him by the body.
Cross-examined. When he was at the Police Court, he said if he did not take it at the Canteen, he must have taken it from some girls he was lodging with at Smith's Court—he had been lodging there a night or two—I made inquiries about him and found he was in the Royal Artillery at Woolwich—he is a deserter at the present time—there is no one here to speak to his character—his character was pretty good while in the Army, but he was not there more than three months.
GUILTY .— Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth.—Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
ADA TELLFER . I am barmaid at the Criterion Restaurant, Piccadilly—on 24th February, the prisoner and another man came in, and the prisoner asked for two glasses of bitter ale—I served him and he paid with a florin—I tried it in a tester and found it was bad—I called in Mr. Tipper, and gave it to him and pointed out the prisoner.
GEORGE HENRY TIPPER . I am manager of Buffet Department of the Criterion, under Messrs. Spiers and Pond—I was called into the bar by the last witness, and received from her a counterfeit florin—the prisoner was present and she charged him with passing it—I asked him where he got it from—he said 45, Haymarket, and then he said 45, Strand—I called our constable and gave him the florin and told him to go and see if that was correct—he went out with the prisoner and another man.
JOSEPH BENTLEY . I am a private constable attached to the Criterion—on 24th February, Mr. Tipper called me to the Buffet bar, and gave me a florin in the prisoner's presence—he was with another man—I took the prisoner from place to place in the Strand—I took him to No. 45, and when we got to the door he refused to go in, saving "That is not the house.
I shan't go in"—he said it must be 49—we went there and the shop was shut up—he then said it was somewhere in the Strand, but he could not tell what house—I gave him into the custody of 284 C, and gave him the florin.
MARION BLACKHALL . I am barmaid at Mr. Champness's Restaurant, 10, Bridge Street, Westminster—on 4th March, the prisoner came in with another man about 8 o'clock—the other man asked for two glasses of bitter and paid with a bad florin—I gave him the change—the prisoner took the change up, and the other man ran away—a constable was sent for and the prisoner was given into custody—he wanted to pay with good money and said the other man was a friend of his—I have not seen the other man since—I gave the bad florin to the constable.
ROBERT BROWN (Policeman 476) A. The prisoner was given into my custody by the barmaid—she gave me a bad florin which I produce—at King Street Station I searched him and found 7s. 10d. in silver, and 4d. in copper; all good—the prisoner said the man he took it of was a friend of his, and he was not aware that the florin was bad.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You had an opportunity of escaping when I went for a constable—you said the other man asked you the way, and treated you to a glass of ale.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that the man who escaped asked him where he could get a tramway, and treated him to a glass of ale.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in January, 1866.**— Two Years' Imprisonment.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
ISABELLA HOLDER I am barmaid to Mr. Creech, 1a, Oxford Street—on Thursday, 12th March, the prisoner came in for 2d. worth of shrub, and tendered a sovereign—I put it on the shelf where the gold is always kept—there was no other gold there—the master afterwards found it was bad—I. gave the prisoner 19s. 10d. change, in silver and copper—I saw him again about 11.30; he had 2d. worth or 4d. worth of shrub, I am not sure which—he gave me a bad sovereign, which I gave to Mr. Creech.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not suspect the first sovereign, the second one I did—I have no doubt at all about your being the person.
JOSEPH CREECH . On 12th March I found a bad sovereign on the shelf where gold was put—I marked it, and gave it to the constable—about a couple of hours after the prisoner came in, and the barmaid showed me another bad sovereign—I stepped between the prisoner and the door, and told my man to call a policeman—I asked the prisoner if he tendered the sovereign to my barmaid—he said "Yes"—I said "How many more have you got about you?"—he said he had no more; he only had some silver in his pocket—I also gave the second sovereign to the constable.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. There was one other young man in the bar—I was not there when you gave the first sovereign.
FRANCIS PEPWORTH (Policeman E R 13). The prisoner was given into my custody by the last witness, who gave me two bad sovereigns (produced)—I found on the prisoner 7s. in silver and 4 1/2 d. in bronze—he said he passed one sovereign, but he did not know anything about the first one—he said he knew where he got it, but he should not tell.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that he only passed one sovereign, and was not aware that it was bad, and that as to the other, the barmaid must have mistaken him for someone else.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and
MR. BESLEY the Defence.
FREDERICK HORTON . I am an oilman, at 52, Leverton-Street, Kentish Town—on 21st March, at 5.30 p.m., the prisoner came in for a 2d. cake of fancy soap—she placed a sovereign in front of the counter in payment—my brother asked me for the change for the sovereign; I gave him a half-sovereign, 9s. 6d. in silver, and 4d. in coppers—my brother counted the change over to her—he turned round, and was going on with his work, and the prisoner suddenly said "Did I give you a sovereign? I intended to give you a shilling; if you will take it out of the shilling, and give me the sovereign back; I did not want to change that sovereign," and she placed the shilling by the side of the change—my brother took the 2d. out of the shilling, and I gave him the sovereign out of the cash-box to give to her, and he placed the change on the desk by my side—the prisoner asked the price of the Swiss milk a tin, and I said "Eightpence"—she said she would have a tin, and she paid for it out of the 10d. change from the shilling—she then went out—I counted and 'examined the change, and found a bad half-sovereign—I can swear that was not the Same half-sovereign that I had handed to my brother—I showed it to my brother, and he bent it between his finger and thumb—we both ran after the prisoner, and he said "This is not the half-sovereign I gave you; this is a bad one," and he returned it to her—she drew her hand from her muff, and threw another one down on the pavement from the same hand, and put it back in her muff, and said "What do you mean?"—I picked that half-sovereign up; it was a good one—I gave it to my brother, and said "That is not the half-sovereign you gave her"—he said "No, that is not the one; that is a good one"—we followed her about 300 yards till we got a constable, and gave her into custody.
Cross-examined. I was attending to the books—the shop is rather dark—I took the sovereign from my brother—I counted the change out of the cash box myself and gave it to my brother, and he counted it over on the counter and left it there—I did not see the prisoner touch the change at all, and when she said she would pay with a shilling my brother took the change off the counter where it had been placed, and she remained some few minutes being served with the Swiss milk—she walked down the street at the ordinary pace—she was not running at all—she had both her hands in her muff—she withdrew one hand, and the very instant my brother passed the coin to her the other, fell on the ground.
Re-examined. The change from the sovereign was put quite close to her—the half sovereign was twisted, and I am quite sure it was not the same that I picked up afterwards.
CHARLES HORTON ". I am the brother of the last witness—on 21st March, the prisoner came into the shop and asked for a piece of fancy soap, which was 2d.—she gave me a sovereign in payment—I put down in front of the counter close to her half-a-sovereign, 9s. 6d. in silver, and 4d.—she looked into her purse and said "Did I give you a sovereign? I meant to have given you a shilling"—she asked me to take it out of the shilling, and I gave her the sovereign back—I picked the change up again—she afterwards asked for a tin of milk, which was 8d., and I took that out of the shilling, so that she had 2d. out of the shilling altogether—I put the change down by the side of my brother—my brother counted it after she had left the shop and found the half sovereign was bad—I twisted it—I am certain it was not the same one I had put down in front of her before—we followed the prisoner—I handed the bad half sovereign to her and said, "This is not the half sovereign I gave you? it is a bad one"—she took her hand out of her muff and took it in her finger and threw the other one down—it fell on the pavement my brother picked it up—it was not the one I had twisted—she went down the street and we followed her for about 400 or 500 yards, and then gave her into custody—I did not hear her say anything.
Cross-examined. We followed some yards behind her—I did not see her speak to anyone—I did not see her pick the change up when I put it on the counter before her—I did not notice her touch the change—I did not hear the rattle of any coins at all.
JOSHUA HAMPDEN (Policeman Y R 45). I took the prisoner into custody in the Kentish Town Road—I told her she was accused of ringing the changes, but I knew no particulars—she said, "Not me, sir; you have made a mistake"—the prosecutor came up—I asked him if that was the woman, he said "Yes"—she said "I have not been to your shop"—I took her to the station and she refused her name and address—I found in her bag the tablet of soap and the Swiss milk, also the sovereign and 8d. in copper. JOHN PITNEY (Police Sergeant Y 44,). I was at the station when the prisoner was brought in—she gave the name of Sarah Beaumont, but would give no address—she said "The gentlemen must have made a mistake. I never was in the shop."
Cross-examined. I asked her repeatedly for her address—she said she came from Birmingham, and her husband was travelling with cheap jewellery—I asked her if he had a license from the Commissioner of Police, and then she said he was not travelling with cheap jewellery.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
MARGARET McKENZIE . I am assistant at the Post Office, 30, Fleet Street—on 2nd February, the prisoner came in and asked for 10s. worth of postage stamps, and I. worth of receipt stamps—he gave a bad half sovereign and a good shilling—I took the coins up and detected the half sovereign was bad—I told him it was bad—he turned round and said we were mad—I sent for a constable, and he was given into custody—I gave the constable the half sovereign and the good shilling.
custody with a bad half sovereign and a good shilling—the shilling was afterwards returned to the prisoner—he was taken before the Magistrate, remanded, and discharged.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I made inquiries about you at 8, Newgate Street, and also at St. Mary Axe—they said there that you had been discharged on account of the slackness of the trade—I also went to your father-in-law, at 3, Dean Street, Holborn, and he said he had employed you occasionally.
ANNIE FORD . I am barmaid at the Wheat sheaf, Red Lion Street, Holborn—on Saturday night, 14th March, about 10.40, I was serving in the bar, and saw the prisoner there—my master served him with some whisky for which he paid—he broke a glass, and I asked him to pay for it—he asked me not to charge him as he was a poor working man—he gave me a half sovereign which I gave to Augusta Miller, another barmaid—I saw her try it and bend it—the prisoner walked out of the place—he did not ask for any change, he walked straight out—he was brought back shortly afterwards and given into custody—the coin was given to Policeman E 175.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The bar was rather full when you came in—I did not give you change for the half sovereign—you put the coin down to pay for the glass which was fourpence—I could not have mistaken it for sixpence because it was gilt.
CHARLES HALLESTER . I am barman at the Wheatsheaf—I saw the prisoner put down the half sovereign for the broken glass, and I saw that they detected that it was bad—the prisoner went out of the shop and I followed him and said "You have broken a glass, you had better come back and pay for it"—he said "If I have broken a glass I will come back"—when I got him inside, I said "You have passed a bad half sovereign, young fellow"—he said "I have not passed anything"—a policeman was fetched, and he was given into custody.
BENJAMIN CORNISH (Policeman E 175). I was called, and took the prisoner into custody—I received from Augusta Miller, in the presence of Annie Ford, this bad half sovereign (produced)—the prisoner said it was a good one, it was his earnings—on the way to the station ho struck me on the nose, and kicked another constable.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . This is a bad half sovereign—it is made of white metal—the other coin is a sixpence gilt over to represent a half sovereign—there is a half sovereign of that year 1824, of that particular type.
The prisoner in his defence stated that the first half sovereign was given to him by a man who wanted to send some stamps to his wife, and that he (the prisoner) went to fetch the stamps for him from the post office; that the second coin was a sixpence of George the Fourth, which he had had gilted as a birthday present for his brother, and that he had put it down in mistake in payment for the broken glass.
— GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 8, 1874.
Before Mr. Justice Brett.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM MILES TURNER . I live at 2, Beale Road, Old Ford Road, and am a cabman. About 12.20 on a Tuesday morning, I don't remember the day of the month, I was on my cab stand at Cambridge Heath, while standing there I saw two young men and a female going along the road on the right hand side of Hackney Road coming from Shoreditch church. I also saw three men following them on the same side of the road, I should say from 4 to 6 yards behind—I heard some loud talking, I looked towards them—the three men parted from the others and walked across to the top of the cab rank—the prisoner who was one of them turned round and used some vulgar expression towards the female—he was then in the middle of the road, at the top of the cab rank—he held up a knife and said, "You b----if you come and fight with me, you b----sod, I will rip this up your b----guts"—I had not heard either of the other men say anything to him before that—the two young men who were with the female then walked across towards these three and left the female at the other corner, and all of them walked right to the other side of the road and then we heard a scuffle—I could not say who began the scuffle—I went up to them, I got close to them—I was not more than 4 yards away from the prisoner and Freeman—the prisoner stepped back a few steps, unbuttoned his coat and pulled out something, and made a stab at Freeman—he made a plunge at his left hand side—he bent a little and stabbed up, like that—Freeman called out "I am stabbed, you have stabbed me"—the prisoner was then walking quietly over the way and buttoning up his coat—Free-man put his hand like that and kept on reeling about—he did not fall down—I followed the prisoner who walked towards his two companions who were on the other side of the road, and made some sign or signal to the companions who were following, and they all three turned and walked towards Cambridge Heath Bridge—I followed them, and saw a constable and spoke to him, and we went up to the prisoner and the other men, and I picked the prisoner out.
Cross-examined. It was very dark—there were from a dozen to sixteen persons round altogether, not more—I did not see the beginning of the scuffle—I stated before the Magistrate that the prisoner used the expression "If you come and fight me I will rip this up your b----guts," I am sure of that—I told the Magistrate as nearly as possible the same I have told to-day—I believe I said that before the Magistrate.
By the COURT. The fourteen or sixteen persons were round at the commencement of the scuffle, but at the time the prisoner made the stab at Freeman there was nobody near Freeman and the prisoner but themselves—I don't know which commenced the scuffle—when I went across the road Freeman and the prisoner were by themselves, separated from the others; they were standing up to one another, they were not close—there is a stone with three lamps on an obelisk, I should not think there was another lamp near the spot—I did nut lose sight of the man at all till I told the policeman,
I followed him close up behind—I was not more than 3 or 4 yards behind him at the very extreme, and he turned round and said something to me going along which I could not hear—I wish to say something which I think is of very great importance; when the constable brought the prisoner back to the corner of the Hackney Road, Freeman was gone and there was no one there who saw the affair, only me—the constable took the prisoner's name and address and let him go, and he said I should be more careful in what I: said in giving a man in charge for stabbing, and the prisoner said, "I shall know you, you b----sod, if for three months to come, I will do for you, I will know you by your talk," and that he would sling a half crown in my eye.
By MR. WILLIAMS. I stated that before the Magistrate—my evidence was read over, but I can't recollect whether that was put down or not—I told just the same at the coroner's inquest—I did not say every word, but I said that he said ho would do for me, and that he would know me again for three months to come—I can't recollect whether that was read over—Nowlan is the constable who said I had better be careful.
WILLIAM HARRIS . I am a brush maker, and live at 41, Canrobert Street—I was with Freeman and Lamb that night, in the Hackney Road—I and Freeman were singing as we went along—we went into an eel-pie shop—we came out, and walked along—I saw the prisoner and two other men before we went into the eel-pie shop, and we saw them when we came out—before we went into the eel-pie shop we were singing "Do come in on Sunday, Bob," and the prisoner with the other men turned round and said, "We can come in any b----Sunday you like"—there was no quarrel before I went into the shop—when we came out Lamb said something to Freeman—we walked on up the road without saying anything to the men—they went in front of us, and they crossed by the cab-rank—they then turned round, and I believe the prisoner said "I have up'd your old woman many a time, and I will up her again"—Freeman and I crossed the road to ask for an explanation—I did not know any of those three men—when wo crossed the road he wont in front of them, and Punch Hall (which is a nickname for Hall) said to Freeman "Why don't you turn it up, Sal?"—that is a nickname of Freeman's—Freeman did not say anything in reply—the prisoner struck him in the chest—the prisoner and Freeman then backed out into the road by themselves, and Punch Hall and Brown came on to me, and said "Boot the b----sod" and they began to kick me—I did not see what the prisoner and Freeman did—I afterwards took him to the doctor's, and afterwards to the London Hospital—I heard Freeman halloo out "I am stabbed!"—I did not see the prisoner stab him; that was whilst tho other men were kicking me—I had just jumped up, when ho hallooed out "I am stabbed!"—the other men were at me then—I then went and looked, and found Freeman—I think there were more than a dozen people on the spot while this was going on—none of them interfered—I am quite certain that none of those strangers administered the stab—I knew Freeman well; I was his companion—I have seen him since he died; I was there every day—his name was James Richard Freeman.
Cross-examined. I did not at any time hear the deceased say it was Punch Hall who had stabbed him—the prisoner and Freeman were out in the road alone together when Freeman was stabbed—I did not see anyone else near them—I was on the pavement and they were out in the road—I could not tell whether there was anyone else standing anywhere near them;
I was on the pavement, being kicked—I did not see anything when I heard the cry "I am stabbed!"—there was a general struggle between the lot of us at first; there was only them three and two of us—there were about a dozen altogether round us when I was being kicked; on the other side of the road as well—I did not see Turner there; I saw him on the rank as we crossed the road.
Re-examined. At the time I heard Freeman say "I am stabbed 1" there was no one near enough to stab him but the prisoner—I jumped up when he halloaed out "I am stabbed!" and there was no one near him, only the prisoner.
JANE LAMB . I live at 6, New Street—early on this Tuesday morning I was with Freeman and Harris, passing the eel shop—the prisoner, Brown, and Punch Hall were there—some expressions were used—after leaving the eel shop, I and Freeman and Harris walked on up the road—the other three men walked on first, and at the cab-rank they crossed over the road—they used bad language; one of them did, I could not say which one it was—when they got to the other side they stood there and used bad language—one of them said "Come over here, you b----s----, and wo will do for you"—Freeman and Harris then went over to know what they meant—directly they got into the middle of the road I went across, and saw the prisoner hit Freeman in the chest—a scuffle then took place, first on the pavement, and then the prisoner and Freeman were fighting in the road together by their two selves—I went up, and tried to pull Freeman away; that was before this, before they wore fighting by themselves; when they were all scuffling together—I heard Freeman say that he was stabbed—tho prisoner was the nearest to him when ho said that; no one else was near enough to have stabbed him.
Cross-examined. He did not fall—he put his hand to his side and said "I am bleeding, you have bled me," and he cried, and then the three of them ran away together—I stayed with him—he walked away—I went to tell his parents, and when I came back ho was taken in to Dr. Layton's—the other two men were on the pavement, on the other side of the road fighting with Harris, when Freeman said ho was stabbed—the other two came from Harris, and all three went up the road—I did not sec the prisoner stab Freeman—I was standing on the pavement when they were fighting in the road—on the same side as Harris was.
JAMES BROWN . I am a riveter—I was with the prisoner and Punch Hall, on this occasion—I saw Freeman, Harris, and Lamb—they were going along singing—after some altercation, wo were going up the road on the same side, I heard Lamb call out, but I did not hear what she said—the prisoner said "If you come over here to touch mo, I will put this knife into you"—I told him to put it away as ho was drunk, and he did so—he had a knife in his hand, open—we walked across the road and the other two came after him—I told Freeman not to have any row, and I told the young woman that he did not mean to insult her, that ho was drunk—Freeman rushed between her and me, and struck the prisoner in the chest—there was then a scuffle between the prisoner and Freeman—I tried to part them, and while I was parting thorn I heard Hall halloo out "This man is a kicking me," and I ran to him, and while I was on the kerb I heard one of the two in the road halloo out "I am bleeding"—I ran back to see, and saw Freeman walking away holding his side—and the prisoner and Hall and I walked away—the cabman followed us and gave the prisoner in charge—
when I heard Freeman call out "I am bleeding"—I turned round and saw a lot of people—I could not say who was the next to him, because it was in the dark—Hall was on the pavement with me and Harris—I was trying to part them—when I told the prisoner to put the knife away—he shut it and put it in his side-pocket—I did not see anything in his hand when Freeman called out "I am bleeding," it was too dark to see anything—I did not see any of the people round interfere.
Cross-examined. When I heard the cry "I am bleeding," I turned round immediately and saw a good many people standing round in the footway—they were not near Freeman—he and the prisoner were sparring up to one another, and there was just like a ring round—there was a scuffle, not then, but before—there might have been a dozen people round, or there might have been more.
JOHN REBERTS . I am a gas stoker—I was coming home from Hackney, on this occasion—I did not see the scuffle down the road—I saw the prisoner stab Freeman, and after he stabbed him I saw him throw the knife away, and the prisoner went up towards the bridge—the cabman followed him and I heard the prisoner say, if he got half a chance he would chuck the cabman in the cut, or the canal—they turned down by the side of the canal, and the cabman told a policeman to stop the three men, which he did and brought the prisoner back, and the other two went towards Hackney—when the prisoner was brought back Freeman was gone.
Cross-examined. I am quite sure I was there—I was at the inquest—four of the witnesses for the prosecution said I was not there.
Re-examined. They said they did not see me there—I was there—there were between eight or twelve other persons there looking on, all scattered, some on the pavement and some a little way about—I can't remember all that were there.
JURY. Q. How far were you from the cabman? A. About four yards, I can't tell how far the cabman was from the prisoner—there were four lamps at the top of the road, but we were not near them—I saw the knife and saw the man stabbed and the knife thrown away.
EDWARD NOWLAN (Policeman N 73). I took the prisoner into custody on the information of the cabman at the time—when I brought him back the deceased had gone—I took the prisoner's name and address, he gave a correct one and I let him go—he said "I did not do it, I don't like the use of the knife," and I heard him say he would scale half-a-crown in the cab-man's eye—the cabman never stated to me that he had stabbed a man—he said he had stabbed at a man—on the Tuesday, I was told the man was stabbed and I apprehended the prisoner in Dean Street, Islington—he said he was innocent.
Cross-examined. I found him coming from the house—the deceased was not then dead—he died on the 27th—I did not find fault with the cabman for giving the prisoner into custody—I told him to be more careful in making such a serious charge—I did not hear the prisoner say anything else than that he would scale half-a-crown in his eye—that was before I told him to be careful about making such a charge.
JURY. Q. Did the cabman point out to you the place where the scuffle took place? A. No—not direct—he said "over there"—I did not examine the place—there were about fifty people there—I asked if they had seen anyone stabbed, and they said they had not—there is an obelisk at the head of the cab stand—the prisoner did not appear to me to be under the influence
of drink—he seemed excited as though he had been in a scuffle, but he did not appear drunk to me.
JAMES RAMSAY (Police-Inspector N). I was present when the deceased was examined on oath by Mr. Bushby, the Magistrate—the prisoner was present and had an opportunity of cross-examining him—I don't think he asked any questions—whatever took place was taken down in writing by the Magistrate's Clerk, and I saw the deceased sign it. (The depositions of the deceased, James Freeman, was read as follows: "I live at 11, Hill Street, Hackney Road, and am a rough stuff cutter—last Monday night week, just by the eel shop in Cambridge Heath, some men insulted my young woman—one of them was like the prisoner—I think he is one of them—he told bar to go and—herself—I told him he was no man—he sparred up to me and I to him—he bit me and I hit him, and he hit me in the groin with a knife—I said "you have stabbed me"—I was frightened, for a minute—the prisoner is, like the man who did it—I can't swear to him, as it was rather dark—I was taken first to the doctors and then to the hospital—I am called by a nick name Sal, and Punch Hall who was there, said "'why don't you turn it up Sal, I have two of them on to me and I cannot get away from them"—Punch. Hall never hit me at all—I never said he stabbed; me—he was one of the three—I think it was the prisoner who did it—it was dark—I said Punch Hall knew something about it—there was Punch Hall, the prisoner, and another one, whose name I don't know—I am certain I did not tell the inspector that Punch Hall did it.";
Cross-examined. I said to the deceased "Have, you been stabbed?" and he answered "Yes, by Jack Hall; he is called Punch Hall; and I saw the knife in his hand."
Re-examined. He said that on the 25th, two days before he died—he was examined before the, Magistrate on the, 26th—I told the Magistrate what he bad said to me, and that was why he was examined on that point—he appeared sensible at the time-the doctor was present—he appeared to understand the drift of what I was saying—I did not take down what he said; he was not then considered in a dangerous state—he was in bed—I heard him tell the Magistrate he had not said it—I can't account for that; I know he did say it—I put it down in my pocket-book—this is it; "Jack Hall, called Punch Hall, 25/2"—that was the note I made at the time—I am sure he said that he was stabbed, by Punch Hall, and that he saw the knife in his hand.
HARRY THOMAS SHAPLEY . I am house-surgeon at the London Hospital—I saw Freeman there on the Tuesday, and examined him—he had a punctured wound in his left illiac region, just above the groin, about an inch and three-quarters long—he died on Friday morning—it was a stab wound, and went straight into the cavity of the abdomen, causing acute peritonitis and death—I was present when the Inspector asked him who did it, and he said that Punch Hall did it; I don't remember exactly the words he used—he was perfectly sensible at the time, and also when he made his deposition.
FREDERICK HALL . I am a leather cutter—I used to go by the name of Punch Hall years ago—I was with the prisoner and Brown on this night when the scuffling was going on—I saw the two men and the young woman—we had just come out of the eel shop, having some eels—they were singing a song, "Won't you come on Sunday, Bob?"—the prisoner said "1 don't want to come on Sunday; I can come any day of the week"—the
deceased turned round as if he was coming back, and the young woman said "Don't take no notice of them; they are only a b----lot of Jews, and I could smack their b—a—any day of the week"—with that we got the prisoner away, and took him across the road, because he was very drunk—when we got on to the cab-rank they holloaed out something to us, I don't know what it was, and the prisoner held up his hand and made a threat—I can't put the words distinctly together, but it was something about ripping up; "If you cross over here to me I will rip you," and he held up his hand, but I did not see anything in it—we then finished crossing the road, and the three followed after us—Freeman wanted to make a rush at the prisoner, and I turned round and said "Why don't you turn it up, Sal?" because he wanted to fight with the prisoner—I had known him these twelve years, and we were always friends—by turning it up I meant to leave off—he shoved me on one side, and made a dash at the prisoner; the prisoner backed out into the middle of the road, Sal Freeman followed him—I kept Harris back; I fought with him, because he wanted to quarrel with the prisoner as well; he wanted to take his friend's part—I and Harris were on the pavement outside the beer-shop—Brown wanted to separate the prisoner and Freeman—Freeman was a much bigger man, and heavier—Harris knocked me down and kicked me; I called out to Brown to come and help me; he ran to me directly, and picked me up—I was on the ground—I heard Freeman shout out "Oh, he has bled me!" "Oh, he has bled me I" and he ran away towards the Hackney Road—the prisoner came on to the pavement, and I said "Harry, have you stabbed him?"—he said "No, I have not"—we went up towards Cambridge Heath Bridge—the cabman followed us—he would not lose sight of the prisoner till we got right over the bridge, and then he went and fetched the policeman—the policeman came up, and the cabman picked the prisoner from us three, and me and Brown went away and left the prisoner in company with the policeman—I did not stab Freeman; I was 14 feet away from him, and I was friendly to him up to the same day—Brown could not have done it.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was very drunk—I swear that I was kicked by Harris—it is not true that I kicked him.
JURY. Q. Do you know the witness Roberts? A. Yes, I have known him these six years—I did not see him there; when I saw him it was over the bridge—he was standing there—I have seen the prisoner three or four times in the last two or three months before this happened—he was in my company this night; he came down with Brown; he used to work with Brown—I never saw the knife.
The Prisoner received a good character.
— GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his previous character and his youth— Five years' Penal Servitude.
The Jury desired to express their approbation of the conduct of the witness Turner.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS
The prisoner, in the capacity of an accoucheur, attended the deceased in her confinement when she was delivered of twins, and the death was alleged to have taken place in consequence of his neglect. The details of the case are not of a nature for publication.
— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 8th, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
250. FREDERICK DAGOSTA (30), and ANTONIO DUMAS (30), PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the dwelling house of David Humm, and stealing therein four pictures his property: also to breaking and entering the dwelling house of Millar Wilkinson with intent to steal— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment each.
251. THOMAS JONES (22), to stealing a handkerchief from the person of John Gregory, having been before convicted in July, 1872**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
252. JOHN YOUNG (18), and HENRY WAITE (29) , to stealing six coils of rope of James Johnson, the master of Young, who recommended Young to mercy, believing him to have been led away by Waite— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
253. FREDERICK CRAMBROOK (13) , to breaking and entering the counting house of Henry Joseph Adcock and stealing divers valuable securities his property; also to stealing a coat the property of the said Henry Joseph Adcock— One Months' Imprisonment and Four Years in a Reformatory. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
254. CHRISTOPHER SIMPSON (19), and JOHN POPE (36) , to breaking and entering the dwelling house of Christopher Simpson and stealing therein two time pieces and other articles his property, Pope having been before convicted in 1865.
The Prosecutor, who was Simpson's father, recommended him to mercy, and entered into, recognizances to bring him up for judgment if called upon. POPE**— Seven Years Penal Servitude . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. BROMBY conducted the Prosecution.
EDWIN EDGAR CATTELL : I live at 109, Church Road, Islington—on 20th February, about 11.50 at night, I was going home to my father's house, and saw the prisoner inside the front garden standing at the foot of the house steps. I asked him if that was No. 109, he said that it was No. 1ll, and I turned to go out again—lie followed me—I found that he was wrong, laid hold of him, and asked him what right he had there, he gave me a furious blow in the face with his fist, causing blood to flow from my nose in great quantities. I was staggered but went up to him again about 5 yards from the house, caught hold of him and made two or three attempts to strike him—I succeeded in knocking off his hat, which is now in the hands of the police—the prisoner then drew a heavy instrument from the side pocket of his over coat and gave me a tremendous blow across my forehead, and I was partially stunned: I still kept hold of him and we struggled 10 or 12 yards further—he continued to beat me about my head, and feeling sick and faint from loss of blood, I called to him for mercy, but he still continued
thrashing me—when under a lamp about 30 yards from the house, he took me by my coat and flung me with great violence against the railings, and then struck me another blow on the head, saying that now he thought he had done for me—I was too faint to make any noise, the blood was flowing fast from my wounds—staggered to the road, picked up his hat and took it home with me—I opened the door with a key, went up stairs and awoke my father and mother—we then went clown and found that the house had been broken into from the breakfast parlour window—I was taken to a surgeon and have been away from business three weeks—I was very much hurt and had slight concussion of the brain—my father's umbrella was missed from the house—this is it (produced), it had a silver ring on it which has been taken off—my father's coat and mine were both stolen—I afterwards went to the station and picked out the prisoner immediately from twelve or twenty other men.
Prisoner. I never saw you as I have stated from the first—I have witnesses to prove where I was.
HARRIETT MUNN . I live at 103, Church Road, Islington, that is four doors from No. 109—on the night of 20th February I was in my bed-room and heard some heavy blows outside, and a man said "Now I think I have done for you."
SAMUEL TILLSCOTT HUGGINS . I am a surgeon, of Church Road, Islington—Cattell was brought to me on 21st February, about 1 a.m., covered with blood and suffering from a blow on his forehead, and another on the left side of his head—his nose was much bruised and he was suffering from loss of blood and shock—the wounds had been done by some blunt instrument—that on the nose might have been done by a fist, but not the others—I examined him next morning and found a bruise on his left arm—there were afterwards symptoms of concussion of the brain.
JAMES WALLACE CATTELL . I am the prosecutors' father—on 20th February, he came into my room in a dreadful state, and I went down and found the parlour window open and two portions of the shutter lying in the room—I afterwards missed this umbrella and a great coat of mine, and another of my sons'—there was a pocket handkerchief in my greatcoat pocket—this (produced), is it.
Prisoner.. I have had that handkerchief in my possession six months Witness. It has on it the name of a deceased friend of mine, William Black-stone—I have had it seventeen years—it is peculiar on account of its large size—the mark is nearly obliterated by washing—it is peculiar and I knew it the moment it came out of his pocket before I saw the mark.
ARTHUR HOYES (Detective Officer N). From information I received I took the prisoner in Hackney Road, on 26th February—it was pouring with rain, and he was holding this umbrella over his head—I told him I should take him for committing a burglary at Islington, and nearly murdering a gentleman—he said "Some one has rounded on me"—I took him to Islington Station, placed among twenty other men, and the prosecutor identified him directly—I found this handkerchief in his pocket—the prosecutor said "If you look in the corner of it you will see a name, that is my handkerchief."
Prisoner. Q. Where is the hat you brought up at the station-house? A. This is the young gentleman's hat (produced)—and this other hat with blood on it I got from Inspector Taylor.
the window lifted up, and the shutters smashed as if by a person's foot—I was at the station and saw Hayes take this handkerchief from the prisoner's pocket—the prisoner's said I believe that is my handkerchief, if it is, the name of Blackstone is on it—this indented hat was brought to the station by a constable, who is not present—there is blood on the crown.
Prisoner. That is not the hat and you know it—you are taking a false oath—it was forced on to my head. Witness. All I know is that this is the hat that was brought in on the 21st—I was present when it was put on your head, and it fitted you.
E. E. CATTELL (re-examined). I can swear to this being the hat I. picked up—I took it in to the house under my arm and gave it to my father—this other is my hat—there is blood on them both.
J. W. CATTELL (re-examined). This is the hat I received from my son—I gave it to a constable the same night—I afterwards saw it tried on the prisoner, and it fitted him.
JAMES FLETCHER (Policeman N R 34). I was with Hoyes when he took the prisoner—he said "All right, I expected this, someone has rounded on me"—I after went to the prisoner's house and found this jemmy in the prisoner's bed-room—I saw his wife there—she said it was her room—the prisoner had given' me the address.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent of the charge, and have witnesses to prove was at home on the night this robbery was done; my wife has been watched wherever she went and pinched, and she came home with her arm all bruises.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EDWIN KNIGHT . I am a cabinet maker of 9, Duncan Square—I have known the prisoner four or five months—I remember his being taken into custody about 20th February—he was my lodger—on Friday, the 20th, he came home at 9.30 as near as possible, my boy opened the door—I asked who it was, and the prisoner said "All right Governor," and went to bed, and asked my boy to call him in the morning—my boy is not here—I did not see the prisoner when he went out as I was in bed—I did not see him again till I saw him in the court—I had been laid up some time and was sitting by the fire when I asked who it was—he used to go to work at 5 o'clock in the morning—I heard him the next morning but never after—I am certain it was 20th February—I don't know what makes me certain—I had seen him two or three nights before—I am not sure I saw him on the 19th—I had seen him once or twice that week—a policeman came on the 21st, and it was the day before that I heard the prisoner come home at night, but did not see him—I am sure of that.
Prisoner. Mr. Knight has been very ill, and when I came home he has been in bed—he is flurried and has made a mistake.
Cross-examined. I was sitting over the fire when the prisoner came home, or I went to bed a little before 12 o'clock—when I had fastened the door I did not get up next morning till dinner time.
MARY HALE . I occupy the back room on the same floor as the prisoner—he came home on Friday night at 9.30, or 10 o'clock the worse for liquor, and went to bed—he did not go out till morning at 5.30, and returned at 7 or 8 o'clock—my landlady's boy called him—he said he had been out to market and had not enough money and come back to his wife to get more—that was on Saturday morning.
Cross-examined. My name is Hale; my maiden name was Joyce—was
not married in 1870—I have lived in the house two years and a half—the prisoner has only been there a few weeks, but his wife has lived there two years and a half—her first husband died in the same room—I work with her; she makes one part of the work and I the other—I went to-bed at 12 o'clock, and got up at 7 or 8—I am no scholar, but I know the day well, because my brother-in-law had been out of work, and he had a bit of a benefit—I remember the policeman coming to the room on the Thursday; it was a week after all but a day.
COURT. Q. Are you married now to Hale? A. Yes—I don't know when I married him—I am not married to him—I swore that I was because I have been for fourteen or fifteen years called nothing but Mrs. Hale—I have not gone by the name of Joyce, except once, when a constable asked my name—that is three or four years ago—I have been with Hale since 1861, and have always gone by his name, except once, when I got into trouble I was not sent to prison—I was only in trouble an hour or so—I was asked my name, and I spoke the truth—I was first asked about, the Friday up at the Court, but before that the policeman said "You know what time he came home yesterday?" and I said "Yes"—he said "Yesterday morning;" that was on the same morning he was charged.
Q. They came to ask you if you knew where he was the day before? A. No, on Wednesday night. Q. But you said "Yesterday?" A. No, I did not; they said "You can tell us the time it was when he came home on Saturday morning?" and I told them, and they told me I was telling lies—I have never seen this umbrella before.
JURY to E. E. CATTELL. Q. Before you went to identify the prisoner, did you receive any instructions as to how he was dressed? A. No, nor anything about his dress or appearance—the policeman said "We have a man who runs counter with your description; I want you to come and identify him"—I was ill, and had to be taken there in a cab—I knew his voice, and he has peculiar eyes—I was under the gaslight—I was not faint at first; I was faint under the last gas lamp; but I saw him on the step before that, and spoke to him, and he answered me—he was not dressed the same when I identified him; he had a brown overcoat on.
Prisoner. I have got no other clothes but those I had on when I was taken.
He was further charged with a previous conviction at Clerkenwell in May, 1864, in the name of George Lovin, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY **— Twenty Years Penal Servitude.
The were two other indictments for burglary against the Prisoner.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM BUTTWICK (City Policeman 108). On March 6th, I went to 7, Maze Square, Whitecross Street, and saw the prisoner and Catherine Murray, on second floor—told him I should take him for feloniously marrying, his first wife being alive—he said I had made a mistake—he was not the man—I said I had seen his first wife who he was married to sixteen years ago—he said I should have to prove that—I went on 4th March, to St. Philip's Church, Bethnal Green, and received this certificate from the minister—I compared it with the registrar from which he copied it—on the same day I went to St. James', Shoreditch, and received this other certificate from the sexton there—I compared it with the registrar.
Prisoner. Q. What did you say when you came? A. Your second wife came to the door—I said is Alonzo in—she said "Yes"—you were lying on the bed—your first wife is living with a man as his wife—I can't say whether she has any children by him, or whether she has lived with him seven years—she said she saw you four years ago, and that you pulled her bonnet off and slapped her face—she said you went for a soldier some years ago.
Prisoner. Yes, and I was away ten years—I could not find her when I came home, and was told she was dead. Witness. I was engaged by your second wife to make this inquiry.
GEORGE HEARN . I am a brass finisher, of 5, Broad Arrow Court—the prisoner is my next brother—I was present at his wedding to Emma Stent, in October, 1856, at Bethnal Green Church—they lived together four or five years and had two children—he then went into the 9th Lancers, and while he was away his wife went away with another man—when the regiment came home I went to Hounslow, and found he had got drunk and had been tried by Court Martial, that was in 1869—when he came out he asked where his wife was, and some of his neighbours said that she had gone away from the neighbourhood, because she had got a child—I saw her last at Guildhall—I had not seen her then, 1869, and a long time before that—she left the neighbourhood—the neighbours told him that she had left a long time before with one of her old companions—I did not know where her old companions lived—I do not know they lived at Bethnal Green—it is over six years since I saw Emma Stent—she was then receiving parish relief for her daughter, and I found out that she had had a bastard child and went to the parish and stopped the payment.
Cross-examined. I had no conversation with my brother about that—I have often seen his daughter, and a very nice girl she is; she is fifteen years old—I never troubled myself to ask her whether she lives with her mother—she came and said how are you uncle, and that is all I know.
Prisoner. Q. Did I not go into the army the week after my mother died in 1861? A. Either a week or a fortnight.
CATHERINE MURRAY . I live at 7, May Street, Whitecross Street—I have known the prisoner four years—I was married to him on 31st January, 1871, at St. James's, Curtain Road—before we were married I asked him if his wife was living, as I had heard he was a married man; he said she was dead, but he would go with me to look for her to satisfy me—we went down Whitechapel way to ask after her—we could not find out where she was—we only went once—I often spoke to him about it, and seven months ago a friend told me she was living, and living with another man, and would never trouble the prisoner or me, and she begged me not to tell my husband of it—I was very unhappy about it, and said I would really see whether she was the right woman or not.
NOT GUILTY .
JOHN DAVIS (City Policeman 999). On 6th March I saw the prisoners together in Bishopsgate Avenue with a truck with a puncheon on it, and I saw Bacon roll another puncheon from Mr. Rose's premises and put it on the truck-they took it up Camomile Street and turned down St. Mary
Axe—I knew them before-on 11th March, in the morning, I went to Half Moon Street and found Lockhart in bed—I told him I should take him for stealing the puncheons from Rose & Co.—he laughed at me and said "Nonsense, I don't know anything about it," afterwards turning to his father, he said, "You remember, they were those two Australian tallow tubs."—I took him to the station, and he said, "Mr. Davis, will you do me a kindness? if you will go and tell my girl I am in trouble I will round; you know Jack Bacon?"—I said "Yes"—he said "I took them away and he helped me, and we sold them to Putley's for 1l. 19s."—I took Bacon and told him it was for being concerned with Lockhart in stealing the puncheons on 6th March—he said "You are wrong, Mr. Davis"—I took him to the station, and next morning while taking him to the police court I told him I saw him with Lockhart taking them away—I said "It is nothing but fair to tell you that Lockhart has made a statement; he says you were with him and helped him to take them away, and that you had a share of the money"—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I positively swear that he said "If I went to his girl he would round.
GEORGE PUTLEY . I am a cooper of St. Mary-at-Hill—On 6th March Lockhart brought 2 puncheons to my premises, and then two more on the same day—I gave him 1l. 19s. for the four—I have produced one of them to MR. ROSS.
MR. W. SLEIGH here stated hat he could not defend Lockhart further.
Lockhart's defence. The policeman says that he saw me with four puncheons on a barrow, and it is impossible to get more than two on a barrow. I bought the two casks off a man for six shillings each, and he said if you come again in two or three hours I may have two more. I went again in two hours and bought two more, and took them to Mr. Putley. If he saw me steal them why did he not take me at the time instead of waiting five days?
JOHN DAVIS (re-examined). I knew his father was a cooper, and thinking he was taking them to the docks I did not apprehend him—I afterwards heard that the casks were missed, and sent Mr. Ross to his father to pretend to buy a puncheon, and see whether the casks were there.
Bacon's defence. A young chap came and told me that Lockhart was apprehended for stealing four casks and had sent a detective after me, saying that I had something to db with it. I said I would wait till he came, and waited two hours and then went to the detective, in Bishopsgate Street, who asked me where I was last Friday, when it happened, I said, "Up our yard all day long, helping Mr. Williams." He said "James Lockhart has made a statement that you were with him." I said, "I have never spoken to the man more than twice for two years."
LOCKHART— GUILTY . He was further charged with a previous conviction in this Court, in April 1872, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Two years' Imprisonment.
BACON— GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BROMBY conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE WILLIAM ROCKETT . I am clerk to Mr. Baggs, an accountant, of 28, King Street—on 27th February, about 7.30 p.m., I was coming down the stairs and saw a man run out at the front door—I did not see his face—I went down to the basement and saw two piles of books ready for removal; most of them large ledgers belonging to Mr. Baggs, which he kept in the basement of the office—I went up and told Mr. Baggs, who told me to go down and lock up the place—when I got down the two piles of books were gone—I went into King Street and saw a barrow about 30 yards up the street with books on it—two men and a woman were with it, and when they saw me both the men ran away and left the woman on the path—the barrow was almost in the middle of the road—I could not see the men to identify them then—I fetched a constable, and when I came back I found the prisoner and the woman in Laurence Lane, and the barrow upset, and they were trying to put it right—the man I saw then was not the man I saw at the office-door—there were a good many carts about, and they dodged behind them—the door of the basement had been locked and they had burst it open.
GEORGE WILLIAM HAGGER . I am clerk to Mr. Baggs—on 27th February, at 7.30, I saw a wheelbarrow, with some books in it, between Mr. Baggs' and Lawrence Lane, 80 yards from Mr. Baggs'—I saw one man with the barrow at first, and he left it and went away, leaving a woman with it—I could not see enough of him to identify him—I ran up to the barrow; it was full of Mr. Baggs' books.
SAMUEL PEARCE (City Policeman 574). On 27th February, about 7.45, I was in Cheapside—Rockett called me—I went with him up King Street, and saw the prisoner with a barrow upset in Lawrence Lane, and a female assisting him to raise it—I said that I should take them in custody—going to the station, the prisoner said that he was employed by the woman's husband to fetch the books which he had bought—when they got to the station the woman accused the prisoner of being her husband, which he denied.
THE COURT considered that there was hardly sufficient evidence to call upon the Prisoner for his defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BROMBY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES JOHNSON . I am a baker, of 62, Cumberland Street, Mile End—on 20th March a broker called on me and told me something, and then he went out and brought in the prisoner, whom he introduced as Mr. Berry, a buyer of my business—the prisoner said that he was in search of a business, and thought it would just suit him—he went all over the premises, and asked for the agreement I had with the landlord—I brought it, and the broker read it, and told the prisoner that he was to give 100l. for the business—the prisoner said he thought that was rather too much, and then he said 95l—I said that I thought it a very low sum, and agreed to sell it for 100l.—he was to pay 40l. down—I had agreed with the broker to pay him 5l. per cent., and the prisoner took this paper out of his pocket and wrote this hill of exchange, (This was for 40l., to J. W. Berry, two days after date, dated March 2nd, 1874, and payable at the London and County Bank, Stratford.) The prisoner signed that in my presence, and gave it to
me—the broker then asked for his fee—I said that I had not got it in the place, but I had a friend who would cash the bill or pay roe something on it—I felt very doubtful, and tried to see a constable, but was not successful—no money was paid, and when the prisoner found that he wanted the bill hack, and said he would give me forty golden sovereigns instead of it.
Prisoner. Q. Did I ever ask you for any money? A. No.
HENRY MORPETH (Policeman—243). I took the prisoner, and asked him if he had an account at the London and County Bank, Stratford Branch—he said decidedly he had, and that he had paid this bill of exchange by way of a cheque—I asked him if he had any more of those bills—he said "No"—I searched him, and found two more in blank, and he then admitted that he had not an account at the London and County Bank.
SARAH ARMSTRONG . My husband is a grocer, of 1, Richmond Terrace, Wandsworth—we were anxious to sell the business, and on 28th January someone called at the shop, who afterwards came back with the prisoner, who said he had arranged with my husband to sell the business for 70l., and had sent him to me to pay a deposit—he took this paper out, and wrote this bill in my presence. (This was a bill of exchange for 25l., dated January 28th, 1874, at two months, to T. Bird, payable at the London and County Bank, Hammersmith, and endorsed "J. Armstrong.") He asked for his commission as broker, 25s.—I paid him the 25s.—the bill was presented at the bank, and was not paid—before the prisoner left he said that the purchase would be completed that day fortnight—I heard no more of him.
SAMUEL KERRAL . I live at Crescent Terrace, High Street, Lower Norwood—I had a baker's business to dispose of—a man called on me on 16th January, and in consequence of what passed between us he went away and came back with the prisoner—they looked at the agreement—went over the house and agreed to buy the business for 75l.—something was said about a deposit, and the prisoner wrote this Bill. (This was dated January 16th, 1874, for 20l., payable two days after date, accepted London and Westminster Bank, Camberwell New Road, and signed John Milchel)—the other man said he was a broker—he asked me for a sovereign which was 5l. per cent.—I gave it to him and they left together—I presented the cheque at the bank two days after and it was not paid—I afterwards saw the prisoner in custody.
CHARLES JOHNSON (re-examined.) The broker had long curly hair, a dark skin, a thick black moustache and no beard—he was not so tall as I am—he wore a dark overcoat, a black wide-a-wake, dark trousers and laced-up boots—dozens of persons who have also paid money have called at my shop and given the same description when he pressed hard for money—I had some suspicion which caused me to no notice him particularly.
SARAH ARMSTRONG (re-examined). The broker was a dark man about 5 feet 7 inches, a thick dark moustache—he was pale and thick set—he wore a dark overcoat and trousers and a soft billy-cock hat or wide-a-wake—his hair was dark, straight, and short.
SAMUKL KERRAL (re-examined). The broker was in dark clothes—he was 5 feet 7 inches—had a dark moustache and no beard—he wore a felt hat—his hair was dark—I did not observe whether it was long or short. (The Court considered that to make it a conspiracy it was necessary to prove both persons to be guilty, and there was not sufficient evidence that the broker was not a different person on each occasion, nor was it shown that he knew that the prisoner had no money at the bank.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
MR. WILLIAMS stated that he had no answer to the charge, and the prisoner having, in the hearing of the jury, stated he was guilty, they found a verdict of
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM COUNTER (Policeman E 36). On 8th March, about 11.30 p.m., the prisoner's husband came up to me in Long Acre bleeding from his right hand and neck—I put him in a cab and took him to Charing Cross Hospital—in consequence of what he told me I went to Short's Gardens about mid-night to a back room on third floor—there was no look on the door—I went in and saw a child lying on a bed asleep—two drops of blood were on the pillow, and there was much blood on the mattress and sheet and a quantity on the floor—I found a knife at the foot of the bed with blood on the blade and handle—I was alone—I took the child away, took the knife with me, and padlocked the door—I communicated with Taylor, another constable.
Cross-examined. All the crockery in the room was smashed—this was Saturday—I had seen the husband the previous night going in at the archway leading to the door—he was drunk—I heard screams coming from the house on that night, five minutes after he had gone in—I did not try to get in, it was not sufficient to justify me—it was he that was shouting, but I don't remember what he said—I did not hear a woman's voice—I waited to see if any one called me, but no one did.
Re-examined. It is a lodging-house.
JAMES TAYLOR (Policeman E 253). In consequence of what Counter told me, I went to Short's Gardens about 3.20 and saw the prisoner standing in the doorway—I asked her if she lived there—she said "Yes"—I said "Why don't you go upstairs?"—she said that she and her husband had been quarrelling about the child—I said "Why don't you go and get your child?"—she said "He won't give it to me"—I went up with her and found the door locked—she said "He has gone out and locked the door"—I said "Where is your child?"—she said "Inside"—I drew the staple and went in, and the child was not there—she said "He has taken the child with him"—I said "How comes that blood on the floor?"—she said "Me and my husband have been quarrelling"—I took her downstairs and told her I should take her for stabbing her husband—she said "He is a brute; he has had six months at this Court for assaulting me"—she also complained at the station of his being a brute to her.
JOHN LEONARD . I am a surgeon of Charing Cross Hospital—about 12.30 on Sunday morning the prosecutor was brought in—he had just fainted from loss of blood—I found a deep wound on the back of his right hand, which was bleeding furiously, an artery being divided—he also had some superficial wounds on the back of his neck, not deep or dangerous, but more like scratches—there had been very little blood—the fainting was caused by loss of blood from his hand—the wounds might have been caused by this table-knife (produced)—he is still an out-patient.
Cross-examined. The marks on his neck were superficial—the knife could not have been used with violence on his neck.
EDWARD ALLEN . The prisoner is my wife—we lived at 38, Short's Gardens, second floor—on 8th March I got home at a little after 10 o'clock—my wife was not in—I laid down in my clothes and was disturbed in my sleep by something hurting my neck—I turned round and saw my wife in bed with a knife—she made a stab at me—I put my hand up and she stabbed it and went out, and I fainted—when I came to I went downstairs and made a statement to a policeman, who took me to the hospital in a cab.
Cross-examined. I was drunk the night before—I cannot say whether I struck my wife—I have struck her—I have received six months' imprisonment for my brutal conduct to her—I see those scars on her face—I do not know how she came by them—I did not do them—I mean to say that—I got the six months for being drunk and rowing with my wife; for beating her—Mrs. Baldwin, next door, has come in when I have been beating my wife—my wife has screamed for assistance many times—I did not strike her one night with a poker—I broke the crockery, but that was a week before this—there was not much in the room for me to smash—I don't know how many times my wife has been in the hospital on account of wounds—I know that she has been there; it was for my cause—I don't know what I had struck her with then—I do not usually strike her, it is only when we get drunk—of course I strike her with my fist—I do not recollect knocking her down on Sunday the 8th in Mrs. Lester's presence, and her arms being put in splints afterwards—I remember her arms being in splints; that was caused by her falling down—I do not remember knocking her down—she has charged me with giving her a foul disorder, and it is true.
Re-examined. It is a little over three months since I came out after the six months—the crockery was smashed the week before this.
NOT GUILTY .
SEYMOUR PLEADED GUILTY .
JOHN McDONALD . I live at 8, Gate Street, Poplar, and am master of the Lady Gertrude, lying in the West India Docks—Seymour was my second mate—on 3rd March he was on board and a communication was made to me by the first officer—I examined the lazarette under the cabin and found ten pairs of boots and 67lbs. of old Muntz's metal, which is the sheathing of a ship—there is a good deal of copper in it—Seymour was taken in custody, and I accompanied a detective to Murphy's shop on 4th March—we met Murphy outside the door and asked him if he had bought any metal lately from the Lady Gertrude—he said, "No; I have bought no metal for some time—the officer said "did your wife buy any?"—he said, "I don't know; my wife is at Hammersmith, but she will be back if you call at 6 o'clock—it was then 4 o'clock—the officer said, "Do you keep a book?"—he said "Yes;" and on the way in he said, "By-the-by, I have; last Saturday I bought 80lbs. of a man who said he was mate of a ship"—this was Tuesday or Wednesday he went and spoke to somebody inside
and his wife made her appearance with the book—he asked me how much there was—I said "About 80lbs. or better; but I have not weighed it"—he said "There was more than that"—we could find no entry in the book, and the detective said "This is your wife; why did you tell me she was at Hammersmith?"—he said "That she had gone;" and then he said "I did not know she had returned"—he took the bag of metal out from behind some old junk, just inside door—I could not see it before the junk was taken away—there was about 67lbs. of metal, which I identified, and a few small bars which did not belong to me I returned to him—we get 6 1/2 d. per 1b. for it—I have not sold any lately; but that is the market price—I examined his book, but found no entry—he refused to go with the detective at first—there is a back entrance to the house from the wood-yard, and an entrance to the wood-yard from the street.
Cross-examined. I don't think he said whether his wife had or had not bought any metal—he did not say "By-the-bye, my wife did buy 80lbs. on Saturday;" he said he did—this metal has been round a ship's top-gallantrail.
THOMAS GRUNDY (Detective K). I went with McDonald to Murphy's shop, and found him at the door—I asked him if he had bought any metal from on board the Lady Gertrude, on the Friday or Saturday previous—he said "No; I have not bought any for some time"—I asked if his wife had bought any—he said "I don't know; my wife is at Hammersmith, and will be back at 6 o'clock"—I said "Have you a book?"—he said "Yes; look in the book and see whether there is any entry"—as he went across the shop he said "I recollect, I bought 80lbs. of a man who said he was mate of a ship, on Saturday—he then produced the metal, which McDonald identified—he then got the book and looked at it, and a female came from the parlour and stood by his side—I said "Is not that your wife?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Why did you say she was at Hammersmith?"—he said "She has been, and I did not know she had returned"—this is the book (produced)—there is no such entry in it.
Cross-examined. The shop is seven or eight yards across each way—he seems to have carried on a large trade—there was plenty of rope there—he deals in wood for ships—I know he is allowed in the Commercial Docks and it is a privilege to be permitted there—he said nothing about his wife having been in charge of the premises on the Saturday—there is a gate-keeper always on duty at the Docks.
CHARLES SETMOUR (the Prisoner). I have pleaded guilty to stealing this metal and boots—I was the second mate of the Lady Gertrude—I took them at 5 o'clock in the afternoon—I had three men to assist me often—I sold the metal to Murphy—two men assisted me on two occasions and three on the last—I have seen Murphy on board the vessel—he was not at the shop on the first occasion, his wife was there—that was soon after 5 o'clock—I saw him on the second occasion when it was getting dark, that was before 6 o'clock, he asked me whether we had any more, it was weighed and we got 4 1/2 d. per lb. for it—there was about half a cwt. altogether—he paid for it and we left.
Cross-examined. I took some boots also from the ship and got some one to take them away—they were not sold, I gave them away—we delivered, I think, 19 lbs. of metal to the wife on the first occasion and she laid the money on the scale—I did not sec her on the second occasion, I saw Murphy, the metal was weighed, and we were paid at the same rate, and the same on the third occasion—very little conversation passed.
Re-examined. I told Murphy on the second occasion that I did not think I could get any metal out of the Docks later, and he said I could take it ashore and stow it away so that he could get it.
MURPHY received a good character— NOT GUILTY .
SEYMOUR— Eight Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, April 8th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SERJEANT BALLASTINE for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. BESLEY and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE and MR. GRAIN the Defence.
JOHN DURRANT . I have been in the habit of working for Mr. Coate, brush manufacturer of Lisle Street, Leicester Square, my work was fancy boring—I have worked for Mr. Coate off and on for twenty years—I kept a book in which I entered the work at the time it was finished—I have that book here.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Have you any recollection of these transactions at all except from what you see in the book? A. None whatever.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Before January 1871, were you doing much for Mr. Coate? A. Yes; I worked for him twenty years ago—I also worked for two or three other people—I did the same kind of business for Messrs. Young and Marshall, and I kept an account of the work I did for them in a separate book—I have no recollection of their work apart from the book—I kept an account from time to time on a piece of paper of my charges against the prisoner, and sometimes I sent them and sometimes I took them myself to him and received money upon them—when I have handed those papers to the prisoner myself he has put them on a little file and written "paid" upon them, and I saw no more of them—I have not received any money except when a paper has been delivered—I can't tell from memory whether in January 1871 any such paper was handed to the prisoner.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE objected to the witness being allowed to refer to the book for the purpose of refreshing his memory, as it was clear he had no independent recollection upon the subject, it would therefore be making the book evidence and not the recollection of the witness. THE COURT was of opinion that (he objection was a valid one, the book would not be evidence by itself, the witness had no independent recollection of the facts, and he was not therefore entitled to refer to the book as he had no memory to refresh by so doing.
NOT GUILTY .
SARAH BASS . My husband's name is William Bass—I have been working for Mr. Coate for about twelve years—I receive the manufactured materials and then make the brushes and return them, and am paid for the work done in making them—I was at work for Mr. Coate in 1871, and during that year I delivered the work when finished to Mr. Collins, and received the money for it from him—I did not keep any account or book of my own—they did not give me an account of the materials I took out, but they were entered in a book—I simply did the work, took it back and was paid—I worked for Mr. Coate up to the time of my confinement, on Sunday, 17th December, 1871, and I received payment for the work that I had done—I am positive I did not receive any money from Mr. Collins the day before that—I did not do any work for five or six weeks after my confinement—I had work in the house, some done, and some undone—I did not deliver any back undone, it was all taken back done—during the time I was ill no monies were paid to me—at the time of my confinement my husband and children had the small pox, they were ill five or six weeks altogether—I did not receive any money during those five or six weeks, nor did anyone in my house—my mother, Mrs. Newport, used to take the work in sometimes for me when I was ill—I can't say when the work which I had in hand was returned—I did not receive 7s. on 23rd December, nor 6s. on the 30th December.
Cross-examined. The work I had in the house was finished before it was returned, and it was paid for—my mother used to take it in and get the money—I did not keep a memorandum of any kind—I know we received money for the work which we had in hand—I have no recollection at all of how much it was, or how often my mother may have been paid.
Re-examined. I had 6s. worth of work in the house when I was confined—I did not receive any other materials before that was finished, that I am positive about—they were paid for when they were taken back—I can't recollect what amount I received during the time the family had the small-pox and I was confined—when the 6s. worth of work was taken in we had that 6s.—I can't say exactly when it was taken in; it was five or six weeks—I had no other work than that during the five or six weeks; that I am positive about—I did not receive any money except for work actually done—I can't say how long it was before the 6s. worth of work was finished, some were finished and sent, but not paid for till they all went in—my mother took the last and was paid for it—I don't recollect when that was.
SARAH NEWPORT . I am the mother of Mrs. Bass—she was confined on 17th December, 1871, and Mr. Bass and the children had the small-pox—I nursed Mrs. Bass in her confinement—there was some work in the house for Mr. Coate at the time she was taken ill—I can't tell what the value of the work was—it was taken in by me—I can't tell how long after the confinement—it was not for another month—I received the money for it, but what the amount was I don't know—I did not receive any money from Mr. Coate or Mr. Collins until I took that work in.
Cross-examined, I did not take the work in for full four weeks after the confinement—I did not receive 23s. or 24s. during December—I could not say how much I took—I did not take 22s. in December—I might have taken 10s., or 15s.
Re-examined. That might have been weeks before the confinement perhaps
—she never earned a penny from 17th December till the 17th of the next mouth—I might have earned a trifle and taken them home, it might have been a gross, but that gross would have been three or four weeks being done—the 10s. or 15s. would include the work before the 17th—I can't say what was the largest amount ever received at one time.
WILLIAM JAMES BASS . I am the husband of Sarah Bass—I recollect the child being born on 17th December, 1871—I was seized with smallpox afterwards—it was some weeks before my wife did any work, but by mother was doing a little—I can't say whether any work was paid for for a month after her confinement—I was ill—I was not able to go out and collect any money.
JAMES COATE . I am a brush manufacturer, at 41 and 42, Lisle Street, Leicester Square—the prisoner was in my service as cashier up to January, 1873—he had the entire control of the cash, and it was his duty to pay the workpeople—as a rule separate books were kept for each of the workpeople, except when new hands were taken on trial for one or two weeks, and if they were found to suit a separate book was given to them—I have here the book of Sarah Bass, for December, 1871—the entries are in the prisoner's writing—the entries in December, 1871, are: December 2nd, 7s. 6d.; 9th, 7s. 6d.; 16th, 9s.; 23rd, 7s. 6d.; and 30th, 6s.—the prisoner kept a cash account as well, and those sums are entered by him in the cash-book.
Cross-examined. I have about one hundred workpeople altogether; about fifty in London—the prisoner had to settle with from forty to fifty, but not in the same way as he did with Bass—there would be about thirty or thirty-five people to pay every week for work done—they did not come in regularly every week—the number of workpeople I had would not be shown by the week—I dare say thirty-five to forty were paid weekly, and it was his duty to pay them—he had other duty to perform also; to cut up bristles, give out work, and take in work—he has been with me nearly twenty years—he has not assisted me materially; he has been in the habit of cooking my books, and making it appear so—I was insolvent in 1855, and in Whitecross Street Prison—the prisoner was one of my bail for 40l.—he might have lent me money occasionally since that time; the books will show—he has never given me his name to accommodation bills—he never discounted a bill for me; he filled one in in my absence, and put his name at the back—I don't remember his lending me 13l. 15s. in October, 1871; I have no knowledge of it—the cash-book is here, and will show every transaction—how could he lend me money when he was indebted to me?—I have no recollection of his lending me 13l. 15s. on 23rd October, 1871—I don't swear that he did not: if he did he should have entered it in this book—the cash-book shows him a debtor to me of 108l. at that moment—I have do recollection of his lending me 23l. in October, 1871—will not swear he did not—it would not have come into my hands if he had; it would have gone into the bank—I have not got the pass-book or the paying-in book for that year—I was away eight or nine months, and sent money to my wife—I don't think my wife knows whether he lent me 23l. or not—she is here—she would not know—if he had done it, it would have been in the book—I have no recollection of his lending me 24l. on 23rd October—there is a cheque here, written "Collins," but I say now that at that moment he was indebted to me in 108l.—he frequently kept back sums and entered them in the wrong dates, and made a fictitious balance every week—he did not lend me 30l. on 18th January, 1872—the balance at that moment was
28l. 6s. 8d. due to me—he calls it lending 30l.; I do not—it is entered in I the book—he calls it so, but it is not so, because I was not indebted to I him; the balance was on my side—it appears by the book that he paid 30l. on that day; he did not pay it to me—I don't deny it; there is the book to show what was done—on 17th February the balance was 102l. in my favour—it appears by the books that he paid 30l. that day; it also appears that he paid 40l. on 15th April and 40l. on 17th June; then there are several small sums, and on 18th October, 1872, 30l.—the balance in the 'book in April, 1872, is 95l. 1s. 4 1/2 d. in his favour; that was a balance I 'knew to be wrong—I kept him in my service a year and one month after that, after I knew it was a fraudulent balance; because I knew I was being robbed, and I could not find out how—the true balance at that time was 43l. 12s. in my favour, not 95l. against me—the account would show that, which was made out by an accountant from Collinson's, of Cheapside—he is here—I did not refuse to show my books; every facility has been given—I can't say that any of these cheques (produced), which amount to about 900l., ever passed through my hands—I don't see any marks upon them—. I have no knowledge of them—I don't think they did—I won't swear that not one of them did—they might have been used for me, but I have never seen them, and I don't believe it—there is no evidence to convince me that those cheques were used in my business—the balance that I find is a balance in my favour at the end of the year—the accountant has gone through the books—the prisoner had notice that the books were opened when the new cases were presented—he was not present when the accountant was going through the books—I did not let the prisoner know at any time that he was going through the books—I might have borrowed money from the prisoner over and over again to pay the wages on Saturday night for a day or two—I don't recollect distinctly; if he did, did that justify him in robbing me?—he might have lent me money; certainly not as often as thirty times in the year, nor twenty; he might have done so a dozen times in the course of fifteen years—I produce an acceptance of Matthews & Blight, and also some letters, which I have had notice of—this is a bill drawn in my name and accepted by Edward Matthews—they did not pay the bill at maturity—very likely Matthews & Blight wrote and told me they did not pay it—I believe the prisoner discounted it at the bank—it might have been at my request—I must have known it certainly; it must have been with my sanction—I might not have been in London when it was done—I don't remember now whether it was done at my special request—I must have known it certainly—I have exchanged cheques with the prisoner now and then—when my cheque would not be paid, I have got a cheque from the prisoner on two or three occasions—I don't recollect to what amount—there was another transaction with Matthews & Blight in April—the two transactions amounted to 52l. 7s.—I am not aware that he has accommodated my wife with money; I believe he has lent a few pounds occasionally, and he has as often borrowed of her if he wanted money—I suppose my wife is a witness; she was a witness before the Magistrate.
Re-examined. There are thirty-six cheques in the first lot handed to me—the earliest date is December 17th, 1866, and the latest March, 1871—they are all payable to bearer—only three or four have gone through the National Bank, my bankers—if they were used for the business the prisoner would keep an account of them in the books—the accountant was employed to go into the accounts about ten days ago, since the prisoner was committed
for trial—he has been on bail and has attended once with his attorney for the purpose of inspecting all the books—every facility was given them—there are three cheques in favour of a person called Matthews—dated 5th August, 1872, for 35l.; October, 1872, payable to Coate, or bearer for 30l.; November 27th, 1872, for 15l. 15s. payable to Coate, or bearer—on October 26th, 1871, there was a balance due to me of 87l. 14s. 7d.—that was giving credit to the prisoner for all the sums which he had entered as having been advanced by him—at the end of 1871, the balance in my favour was, 105l. 15s.—on 17th February, it was 71l. 2s. 5d.—on 15th April it was, 67l. 15s. 9d. in my favour against him—on June 10th, I have 69l. 8s. 2d. in my favour, and on October 21st, 81l. 12s. 8d. in my favour—the sums which are entered in the prisoner's cash-book as loans to me are taken into consideration in making up those balances—they are taken in as if they were really loans, every penny—I did not give any other materials to the accountant except the prisoner's own books—he made up the accounts from the books—the balance in December, 1872, which appears in the prisoner's favour of 95l. 1s. 4 1/2 d. is wrong in this way—we found in three cases that 10l. was wrong in the casting up, and that 34l. and a cheque for fifteen guineas, and various monies had been left out—we have discovered that since the accountant has been at work, and a little before—the balance was really 43l. 12s. 2d. in my favour in December, 1872—I believe that those two cheques of April 15th and 22nd, refer to the bill of exchange which I have been asked about—when I received those cheques Collins held the bill of exchange—I became the holder afterwards—the bill was paid at maturity—as far as I know that was the only bill transaction between us, and certain I am that he never accepted a bill for me in his life, and I never asked him—I am away travelling to get orders about nine months in the year, and generally for five or six weeks at a time—the prisoner had the entire control of the cash while I was away—the money I received on my journey I sent to my wife and she handed it to him, and it was his duty to enter every penny morning by morning—I don't recollect any special occasion when I borrowed money of him to pay wages, such a thing might have occurred—there was seldom any money owing to the prisoner at all—I can't tell you the largest amount ever due to him without reference to the books—the accountant can tell you that—all the wages to Mrs. Bass, in the wages-book were taken to be genuine payments—some days there might be a dozen workpeople come in, and other days one or two—they might average six or seven a day—there was someone to assist him in the business, but he would not have it—I put five young men under him, and last of all his own son, and he would not have anyone—I gave him five separate young men in succession, and he could not let anyone assist him—he never complained of the duties being too heavy for him.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Are those two cheques yours which the prisoner cashed? A. One is 1866, and the other is 1867; it may have been so, I can't remember—these are my cheques—they might have been cashed by the prisoner—they were certainly not dishonoured by my bankers—the National Bank never returned a cheque unpaid—the cue of September, 1866, is on the South Western Bank.
ALFRED ARMSTRONG . I am a clerk to Messrs. Ladbury, Collinson and Viney, Accountants, 99, Cheapside—I have been employed to go through some books that were shown to me by Mr. Coate, as the handwriting of
Collins—I have taken out the balances, at the end of 1871 it was 105l. 15s. in Mr. Coate's favour—in December, 1872, the balance in Mr. Coate's favour was 40l. 9s. 6d.—during the years 1871 and 1872, there was not a balance at any time in favour of the prisoner—I carried my researches back to 1856, and took the figures I found in the books.
Cross-examined. Mr. Coate did not mention that there were accounts between him and his wife—there was no one present except Mr. Coate and his clerk when I went through the accounts—the firm were employed in the matter, and I was sent by them.
The prisoner received a good character.
— NOT GUILTY .
JAMES COATE . Ellen Roberts was one of the persons regularly employed by me, and had been for seven or eight years—I produce her book which is in the prisoner's handwriting—I find entries of sums alleged to have been paid to her by the prisoner—on 11th February, 6s. 3d., on 18th February, 5s. 2d., and on the 25th 5s.—the next entry is March, 4th, 6s. 6d.—those entries are all in the prisoner's handwriting—I have the cash book in which he kept an account of payments made—I find an entry to "Roberts, 6s. 3d., February, 11th, 1871; February, 18th, Roberts, 5s. 2d.; February, 25th, 5s.; March, 4th, 6s. 6d. "
ELLEN ROBERTS . My husband's name is Robert—in January, 1871, we were living at Sidmouth Street—my father's name is John White—he is not here—I remember him being taken ill—that was in January, 1871, as near as I can remember—he was living in Devonshire Street—I nursed him—as near as I can remember I was there three or four weeks—Dr. Hugman attended him—I lived at my father's while he was ill—I had some work to do for Mr. Coate before my father was taken ill; some jewel brushes—the value of the work was 3s.—I left it behind at my own residence—I should think it was about three or four weeks after my father was taken ill that I finished my work—I took it to the warehouse then and the prisoner paid me for it—I finished the work at my father's while I was attending him in his illness—I did not do any more work for Mr. Coate, and only received that 3s. for it.
Cross-examined. I think I was first spoken to about this matter about two or three months ago by Mr. Coate—he came and asked me the amount of work I did—I told him as near as I could—he said what was down in the book, and then he asked me if I had received those—I told him I did not think I had.
Re-examined. That looks like the same book that was shown to me—it has my name Roberts on it—I don't remember looking through the whole of it—he called my attention to two entries, one for 10s. odd, and 11s. 3d.—I had received those sums—I see here in the book the one for 11s. 3d.—that was in 1873—looked at the two entries pointed out to me—my attention was called to the entries made in the book when my father was ill—I don't know whether the dates you have pointed out were called to my attention or not—I am quite sure that while I was at my father's, 3s. worth of work was all I did.
society to which Mr. White, the father of Ellen Roberts belongs—I have my attendance book here—I remember attending him in Devonshire Street where he resided from the end of January, 1871, going on till February—I was in attendance on him during that time—I attended, I should say, for about three weeks—I saw Ellen Roberts there, during that time.
NOT GUILTY .
JAMES COATE . This is the book of Ellen Roberts—on 28th January, 1871, the prisoner has entered as having paid 5s. to her, and on February 4th, 5s. 6d.—in the cash book he has entered "Roberts, January 28th 5s;" "Roberts, February 4th, 5s. 6d. "
Cross-examined. When suspicion was aroused, I sent round the books to the different work-people, not to all of them, perhaps a dozen, only to those who could read writing, some could not read writing at all—there are no charges in relation to any of the work-people, except those of Bass, Roberts, and Durrant.
Re-examined. I finished the 3s. worth of brushes at my father's place, but I don't think I returned there after I took the brushes home—he was well enough then, I think, to be without me.
NOT GUILTY .
CHARLES DICKEKSON . I am a perfumer at 5, Pall Mall Place—on 7th June, 1872, I purchased some goods of Mr. Coate—this is the bill I received—I paid the amount, 1l. 4s. 1d., to the prisoner, and he gave me this receipt—it was a ready money transaction—I had no account at all.
Cross-examined. He gave me the receipt over the counter in the usual way.
GEORGE PROCTER . I am a perfumer at Go, Haymarket—this (produced) is an invoice of goods sold to me by Mr. Coate—the amount is 6s. and the date November 5th, 1872—I paid the prisoner that amount and received this receipt.
RAYMOND COLLINS. JUNR . I am the prisoner's son and I was in Mr. Coate's employment—this is an invoice for some goods supplied to Messrs. Barclay & Co. by Mr. Coate on 12th November, 1872—signed the receipt and received the money, 5s. 3d., which I paid over to my father.
Cross-examined. I was at Coate's four years—I kept the day-book—it would not be my father's duty to make any entries in that book—my father kept the cash-book at that time—he used to enter in the cash-book from the day book at the end of the week—he had nothing to do with the ledger—there was also an order-book, it was nobody's particular duty to keep that—that was for all orders that came into the place—the ready money matters would be entered—Mrs. Coate was a great deal in the business—Mr. and Mrs. Coate both took money across the counter—I am well acquainted with the books—I have known them take money across the counter and not account for it for some time afterwards; not been put in the cash-book for some
time—what was entered in the day-book and paid for, my father used to enter up in the cash-book on Saturday evening, and if he was out Mr. or Mrs. Coate would take the money and pay it over to him when he came home—my father had to attend to the workpeople—he has not taken money over the counter for the last twelve months; he used to before that up to the end of 1872—the money was brought to him if he was attending to the workpeople, and he would have to account for it—he was in the shop from 8 o'clock in the morning till 8 o'clock at night, every day—I never knew him to take a holiday during the whole four years I was there—he used to take the cash that was received across the counter and put it in his desk and account for it on Saturday to Mr. Coate—I know of instances in which entries have not been made, and my father has told Mr. Coate that he has received the money—my father was very much occupied during the day—he had to hurry from one place to another, to weigh out all the work and weigh it in—he had to travel sometimes—Mr. and Mrs. Coate were in the habit of taking the ready money, and Mr. Coate would make it up at the end of the week—I did not enter Dickenson's account in the day-book, the gentleman used to come in in a hurry and have the goods sent down that afternoon, and they were not entered till afterwards; things were very badly managed—my father would know nothing of the matter—the other two sums which have been mentioned, 65, and 5s. 3d., were not entered in the day-book, and the cash-book is made up at the end of the week from the day-book.
Re-examined. This invoice of the 7th January for 1l. 4s. 4d. is in my handwriting—that transaction would not be entered in the order-book—the entry would be in the day-book and the invoice would be copied from that—my father bad authority to check it, but—he had not sufficient time—that ought to be in the day-book—there is an entry in the day-book on 7th January in my writing—I was keeping the day-book on that day—I don't find the entry of 1l. 4s. 4d. in the day-book—the cash-book of that day is in my father's writing—I don't find any entry of the 1l. 4s. 4d. there—there are two cash entries on the 7th January in the cash-book, and I find those in the day-book—very often there are no cash transactions for several days, sometimes months—there is no entry in the day-book on 5th November, 1872 of two velvet brushes to Mr. Procter for 6s.—the entry should be made before the invoice is made out, and the invoice is in my writing—there is no entry in the cash-book on 5th November—there is no entry of cash between the 2nd and the 9th of November—the 5s. 3d. of Barclay's on 12th November is not entered in the cash-book—the day-book of that date is in my handwriting, and it should have been there before I made the invoice out—there is no entry of that 5s. 3d. in the cash-book—there is an entry on the 9th in my father's writing, and the next entry is the 16th—my father bad control of the cash up to 1872, and whatever money was received by Mr. or Mrs. Coate ought to have been paid to him—I can't say whether it was or not—my father would go away in January on business to work the Brighton and South Coast journey—I don't think he was at the shop on 7th January, but I know he was there in November.
JAMES COATE . I can only tell by the prisoner's signature on the invoice of 7th January, 1872, that he was there on that day—I don't find any entries of his in the books on that day—he never accounted to me on 7th January for that 1l. 4l. 1d., nor for 6s. on 5th November, nor for 5s. 3d. on the 12th—it was his duty to make the entries in the cash-book the moment he received the cash—I find by the bank slips that he was there
on 7th January and paid money into the bank—he paid in four sums on 7th January; not the 1l. 4s. 4d.—those four sums tally with the sums in the cash-book of that date—he paid in money on the 4th November, and on the 8th he paid in 25l. 3s. 3d., the 9th 89l. 19s. 5d., and the 16th 40l.—all the small sums were kept in his box as cash, and nothing but cheques would go into the bank—the prisoner never complained to me of over work—I always wanted him to have help, and he always refused—he used to have ten days' holiday before he travelled—then I gave him up the South Coast journey, and that gave him ten days.
Cross-examined. If I took cash across the counter I should hand it over to Mr. Collins—and when he was away we accounted to him as if it was his own money—every penny that was taken was entered in the book—I may have put money into my pocket which I had taken, but I don't remember doing it—I am not aware that I ever did such a thing—I don't know that my wife had constantly done it—I don't believe she did—the cash taken was not necessarily paid into the bankers—all cheques would go into the bank, but not small sums—I know that I did not receive those sums because they are not entered in the cash-book in the usual way.
FANNIE COATE . The prisoner never accounted to me for the 1l. 4s. 4d. paid by Mr. Dickenson, nor for the 6s. on 5th November, nor for the 5s. 3d. on the 12th—he never told me of the sale, or accounted for the money—I don't know how he kept his books—those sums never came into my hands.
Cross-examined. He was supposed to make up the cash-book once a week—I don't know that he did—that was what he was expected to do—there was one sum connected with the County Court which the prisoner never mentioned until I asked him about it, and it was through my hearing of it.
Re-examined. I heard a porter in the establishment say something about goods sold to a man in Jermyn Street which were not entered, and I spoke to the prisoner about it—he said he had applied for it several times, and he had a great mind to put it in the County Court—I never knew that he did put it in the County Court till my husband told me—I know of no other instance where sums have been omitted from the cash account—if I had I should have told my husband, and also the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
There were eight other indictments against the prisoner, upon which no evidence was offered.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 9th, and Friday 10th, 1874.
BEFORE MR. JUSTICE BRETT.
273. CARL PETER LUNDGREN otherwise JEAN LUIE (50), was indicted for wilful and corrupt perjury, alleged to have been committed by him on a trial at bar in the Court of Queen's Bench, in October, 1873.
MESSRS. POLAND AND BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
A certificate of the trial and conviction of Thomas Castro otherwise Arthur Orion otherwise called Sir Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne, Bart., was put in and read.
WILLIAM AISH DAVIS . I am a short-hand writer—I attended the trial of Thomas Castro otherwise Arthur Orton otherwise Sir Roger Charles Doughty Tiohborne, in the Court of Queen's Bench—on 14th October last the prisoner appeared as a witness—ho was sworn in the ordinary way, in
the name of Jean Luie, and was examined on behalf of the defendant—I took down the greater part of his evidence in short-hand—I have my original notes here—I have compared this printed transcript with my notes—it is correct—I took his evidence on 14th October, from the commencement of it until the mid-day adjournment at 1.30 to the bottom of page 2,261—on the following day I took from the commencement of the sitting of the Court down to the mid-day adjournment; that is to the middle of page 2,325—the printed transcript of that is correct—the next day I took from the sitting of the Court until he left the box, at page 2,418—on 4th December I took from page 3,103 to 3,106—the transcript of that is correct.
CHARLES BENNETT . I am a short-hand writer—I was present at part of the trial of Orton in the Queen's Bench and took portions of the notes of the prisoner's evidence; I have my notes here—this is a printed transcript revised by my notes—on 14th October I began at page 2,262, and took down to the middle of page 2,274—it is correct—that was all I took of Luie's evidence.
MATTHIAS LEVY . I am a short-hand writer—I was present at a portion of this trial on 14th October I commenced at page 2,274 and continued to the close of the day—on 1st December I commenced at page 3,106 to 3,107, and again at 3,108 when the prisoner was recalled, to the close of his evidence at page 3,113—I have compared the printed report with my notes, it is correct.
(The evidence then given by the prisoner was put in and read in part: the substance of it, upon which perjury was assigned was, that in 1852 he joined a vessel called the Osprey, at New Orleans, as steward; that in February 1854, on a voyage from Staten Island, New York, to Melbourne, a boat containing six men was picked up, one of whom was a person who was afterwards known as Mr. Rogers; that he (the prisoner) attended to him on board the Osprey until their arrival at Melbourne in July, when he left the vessel and went to the diggings for ten months; that he was afterwards employed on board various vessels and in different parts of the world for several years until June, 1873, when he for the first time came over to this country in the Circassia ; that he had never been in England before that time, and that then accidently hearing of the Tichborne case at a public house, and thinking the claimant might possibly be the person he had known as Mr. Rogers on board the Osprey, he made inquiries and ultimately saw and recognized the Claimant as that person; he further swore that he had never gone by any other name than Luie, and had never been in trouble in his life, and that since July, 1873, he had maintained himself out of his own money and paid his own expenses.
HERMAN THEODORE TRANA . I am in the service of Messrs. Montgomery & Co. of Liverpool, provision merchants. In 1850 and 1851 I was in the service of Messrs. Heald & Co. of Newcastle, ship brokers, at that time I knew a vessel called the Isabella—I went on board her, and saw the Captain, that was the prisoner, he went by the name of Carl Lundgren—I went on board for business, offering to become agent for the ship, but was not accepted—afterwards in 1853 or 1854 I saw the prisoner again at Hull—I was then in the service of John Lundgren & Co, ship brokers there, as corresponding clerk—I went to them in 1853 or 1854, I don't recollect which it was and remained five or six, or six or seven months—the prisoner was then a clerk in the same office, I saw him pretty nearly every day, he was water clerk—don't remember whether he was there all the time I was—I can't exactly say how long, he was there more than a month or two—I next
saw him in 1862 or 1863 at Bristol—I was trying to charter two Russian vessels and saw the prisoner on board the Russian barque Arcoot—he went backwards and forwards there, he did not belong to the ship—I spoke to him in Swedish—he is a Swede and so am I—I think he belongs to Gottenberg—he did not say so, but I know he does—I afterwards saw him in the Court of Queen's Bench.
Prisoner. I don't want to ask him anything; I don't know the man.
By the COURT. I was corresponding clerk to Lundgren and Co. of Hull, for six or seven months—the prisoner was acting as water clerk when I went there—I found him there—I suppose he was there in the office with me six or seven months, I can't remember exactly, nearly all the time I was there—I don't know where he went when he left—I went from Hull to Liverpool—I have not been with Messrs. Montgomery, of Liverpool ever since—I went into a French house at Liverpool as corresponding clerk—then I was with Pilkington Brothers of Liverpool, and in several offices as corresponding clerk, from my knowledge of languages—I only saw the prisoner once on board the ship at Bristol, but at Hull I saw him every day for six or seven months.
By the JURY. I recognised him at once when I saw him at Bristol, we spoke together—he did not talk about Hull, we talked together in Swedish—I had always been accustomed to talk to him in Swedish at Hull.
JAMES COOPER . I am clerk to Messrs. Humphreys and Son, ship-builders at Hull—I commenced with them in 1856—I had been in Hull previously—I first went to Hull in 1849, I left in 1852, and came back in 1853—in 1853 I knew the firm of John Lundgren and Co.—I knew their clerks—I knew Mr. Trana, the last witness and I knew the prisoner by the name of Lundgren, the same name as his employer—he was in the service of John Lundgren and Co. when I first knew him—I knew him at Hull, from the latter part of 1853, till about the middle of 1854—he was a Swede—I would see him perhaps every other day, sometimes perhaps there might be a day or two between; at all events, I used to see him frequently up to the middle of 1854—I was then in the employ of Hall, Reeme and Son, curriers—I had no business with the firm of Lundgren, only I was acquainted with Mr. Trana, and through being acquainted with him, I became acquainted with Lundgren's firm—the first time we ever met together was at the Minerva Hotel, we met there of an evening—I went there to see Trana, being an old friend, and so I became acquainted with the prisoner—(I have been in Sweden), he is the same man—I saw him in the Court of Queen's Bench in December last.
Prisoner. I hear what he says; I don't know the man; I don't know what to ask him.
DR. FRANCIS MORRIS FOSTER . I am a physician, and Member of the Royal College of Surgeons—I live at Hull, and practice there—I was there in 1854—I knew the prisoner there in 1854; I knew him by the name of Carl P. Lundgren, or Carl Lundgren—he was in the service of John Lundgren & Co., ship brokers—I knew him for six or eight months—in October, 1854, I lent him 30s.—this is the receipt for the money which he wrote and signed—I saw him write it, on a Saturday evening, between 7 and 8 o'clock—(Read: "Received from Mr. Foster the sum of 30s. Hull, 7th October, 1854. Carl Lundgren.")—I did not see him after that—he was water clerk to Lundgren & Co., a clerk who boards ships and vessels in the roads.
Prisoner. It is not my writing. He is mistaking me for another man; I do not know him.
Witness. I thought I was lending the 30s. to his employers—I had been accustomed to see him from time to time, and on that Saturday evening, between 7 and 8 o'clock, he came to my house and said that two ships had arrived that night, that the office was closed, that the captains wished for some English money, they were foreign captains, and that he would return it on the Monday morning—I at once gave him the 30s., and handed him a piece of paper to give me a receipt, and he wrote that out—the 30s. was never repaid to me—I asked Mr. Cooper, the witness, the following week—I did not apply to his employers for it; I was informed that he had left Lundgren's employ, and therefore I knew that I had lost the money.
JOHN HARE GIBSON . I am a general practitioner, and practice at Hull—I was practising there in the years 1853 and 1854—I knew the firm of John Lundgren & Co.—I attended Mr. Lundgren, the head of that firm—I knew the prisoner by the name of Carl Lundgren—I had an impression that he was a brother of Mr. Lundgren's—I saw him many times—I have my books here—I think he consulted me at my house; I did not visit his house—it commenced on 1st April, 1854, up to the 13th—I knew him as being at John Lundgren & Co.'s; that was all I knew about him—I thought at the time he was the brother—it is entered in my ledger, "brother so-called"—part of these entries are by my late partner, who is dead, and part of the writing is mine—the first entry is "J. Lundgren;" then the brother, as I thought, consulted me, and it was entered to the same account—the words "brother so-called" are at the bottom—that entry is mine, the rest of the entry is my partner's—in 1860 I was paid by the firm—they paid the whole—I applied to J. Lundgren for it, and he paid it—he was then living in London—I had no understanding with him at the time—when the account was to be made out I divided it with my partner; he entered the whole; and when the account was to be sent in, I divided it for him at the time—I never applied to the prisoner for his share; I lost sight of him; and in 1860 I applied to the firm, and they paid the whole—I am sure the prisoner is the man—I did not attend the clerks generally.
Prisoner. Q. What illness had the man you attended? A. I cannot tell; my memory does not serve me—this is the ledger—had I the day-book or prescription-book that was then in existence, I could have formed some idea, but that is destroyed—this is simply an entry of the visits.
SAMUEL SHIELDS . I am a shipbroker at Hull, and a member of the firm of Samuel Shields & Co.—I was in Hull in 1852, and knew the firm of John Lundgren & Co.—I joined the firm in that year, and remained till the latter part of 1853—I knew the prisoner while I was a member of that firm by the name of Carl Peter Lundgren—he was our water-clerk—he first entered the service in the early part of 1853; I can't say the month precisely—he remained during the whole time I was connected with the firm and some months afterwards—he was there about sixteen months altogether—I used to see him almost daily, and after I left the firm I knew him at Hull, still in the service of Mr. Lundgren—I missed him at the latter part of 1854—I can't say where he went to—the prisoner is the same man undoubtedly—a Swede.
Prisoner. Q. How did you know I was a Swede? A. I know you
perfectly well; I spoke Swedish to you daily—I have not spoken to you since I saw you in Hull—I know you by your general appearance, and especially by your nose; in fact, by your voice, even now; it is the first time I have heard it since that time—I saw you in December, in the other Court—of course you are altered by your hair being cut short—you had a little beard and whiskers, down to here—you were not so bald as you are now; you were slightly bald; there was a little hair on the top of the head—I saw you in the Queen's Bench—I think you had a beard then—I have not the slightest doubt about you.
COURT. Q. Did you ever see his writing? A. Yes—I could not speak positively to it; it is many years since I saw it—I could not swear that that (the receipt) is in his writing; I believe it is.
JOHN LUNDGREN . I reside at Horseferry Road, Westminster, and carry on business as a ship broker—I am a native of Finland—I have been in this country since 1848—from 1851 to 1857, I carried on business as a ship broker at Hull and Grimsby, as John Lundgren & Co.—at that time I had a Mr. Trana in my service as a corresponding clerk—he was a Swede I also had a man named C. P. Lundgren in my service at the same time—he was a Swede—he was water clerk—I saw the same man in the Court of Queen's Bench—the prisoner is the identical man—I had a conversation with him when I went to identify him—I spoke to him and said "Well Lundgren, do you know me"—he said "Even thou knowest me"—I spoke English, and those are the words he used—he was in my employment in the early part of 1853, until the latter end of 1854—of course I did not see him daily—I saw him now and then, but not daily—I might have been away—I afterwards saw him at Bristol—in 1854 the Russian war broke out, and my business was Russian business, and I discharged my clerks—I saw him in Bristol in 1862—I travelled from Bristol to Ireland, to the Killarney Lakes—I met some foreign captains in Bristol, and I wanted them to dine, and Lundgren was with them—he did not dine with me, of course not—I did not know him before he came into my service—he was introduced to me at Newcastle—I spoke to him at Bristol—he came to the hotel with the captains—I spoke to him as Lundgren.
Prisoner. Q. What time of the year, 1862, did you speak to me in Bristol? A. It was when pears are ripe in this country, and at that time I was going to the Lakes of Killarney—I should say it was in August—I know the names of the captains—there was Captain Snellman, of the Russian ship Sophia; Captain Lynman, I would not say positively the ship, but I can give the captain's name, will that do for you; and Captain Lackstraine was one.
COURT. Q. Did you recognise him at Bristol, as your late clerk? A. I did positively.
JOHANN NICHOLAS SCHERLING . I am a tailor and outfitter at Hull—I arrived there in April, 1852—I saw the prisoner after that—he was water clerk to John Lundgren & Co.—I knew him by the name of Lundgren, or by the more particular name of "Lundgren's Lundgren"—I knew him up to August, 1854, and used to see him almost daily at an hotel, where we used to take luncheon—I am a native of Sweden, and he was a Swede, and the Swedes used to meet at this hotel—I knew Mr. Shields and Mr. Trana perfectly well—I saw the prisoner in the Queen's Bench, in December last, and have not the slightest doubt about him.
Prisoner. I don't know that man.
JOHN FREDERICK GHANBEKO . I am a native of Finland—I first came over to Hull in 1853, and I am carrying on business there now as a ship broker—in 1853 I entered the service of Housemacher & Co.—I was with them from 1853 to 1855, during that time I knew the firm of John Lundgren & Co.—I also knew Trana and Shields—I knew a water clerk there of the name of Carl Lundgren, but I am not sure what time he went into the service of Lundgren & Co.—he was there from May till August, 1854—I believe the prisoner is the Carl Lundgren I am speaking of, but it is twenty years now, and I can't swear to it—he was a Swede, and I had conversations with him in Swedish—I believe he is the man, but I can't swear.
FRANCIS ALRICA LINDSTROM . I am now living at Liverpool, and am a clerk in the service of Messrs. Kelley—I am a native of Gottenberg—I have known the prisoner since we were so high—he is not much more than a year and a-half older than I—his name is Carl Peter Lundgren—I knew him in Gottenberg, when he was a child, and I was a child—I remember when he was master of a ship called the Wilhelm, and also the Isabella—I don't think I have seen him since 1852—I saw him then when I sailed from Gottenberg to England in the Isabella.
Prisoner. Q. Where did you see this man before? A. I saw you everyday in school with Mr. Yedda—I saw you last in Gottenberg, twenty-two years ago—Yedda was the schoolmaster—I have not seen you again till I saw you in Court here yesterday—I can say that it was you—I knew you perfectly well—the Isabella was an English schooner bought in Gottenberg, and your father had a share in it too—I think it was in 1850 when you bought it—your father is dead.
COURT. Q. Did you know the prisoner from the time you first knew him at school till 1852? A. Yes; I have not seen him since—I was at Gottenberg till 1860, in a broker's office—I knew him all long till 1852—I knew him when he was out as cabin-boy, and mate, and captain.
SINGER STOKES . I am the parish clerk of Melksham, in the county of Wilts, and I was so in 1855—in that year I knew Sarah Colborne and her father—he was living at Melksham, and is at the present time—I produce the original marriage certificate for April, 1855—it is entered by me—the date of the marriage is 2nd April, 1855, the entry is in my own writing, and I am one of the attesting witnesses—the marriage is between Carl Lundren and Sarah Colborne—he is described as a ship-broker of Cardiff, and his father as Elias Lundgren, deceased—Sarah Colborne is described as a spinster, of Melksham, daughter of William Colborne, plasterer—the witness is Emma Colborne—she is the sister of Sarah—I am the other witness—I believe the prisoner is the identical man who was married—I saw him at the Court of Queen's Bench on the 10th of December, but I did not then identify him, having so much hair on his face, which he had not at the time of his marriage, but seeing him now without any hair on his face, I believe he is the identical man—the parties who were married signed the register in my presence—soon after their marriage they left Melksham and, I believe, went to Cardiff—I saw the wife in December last at the Court of Queen's Bench, that is the last time I saw her; but previous to that I saw her at her father's house at Melksham about eight years ago—she was the same woman who was so married.
father—I know the prisoner, he is Carl Peter Lundgren—I was present at a marriage in April, 1855, between my sister Sarah and the prisoner—I signed the register—they left home and came to London, and resided at No. 1, Tichborne Street for nearly six months, and after that they came to Melksham for a few days, and then went to Cardiff—I don't think they lived in Cardiff many months—I saw them there—they went to Bristol after that—I saw them there very often—I visited them—I was at Bristol in 1862—they were there up to that time, but not later than that—I did did not see the prisoner after 1862—my sister is still alive and is living at Bristol.
Prisoner. Q. Are you married? A. I am—I was married in 1863 in London—Sarah is living in Bristol somewhere—I am not supposed to know the address at present—she goes by the name of Hawkins—she is living with a man named Hawkins.
COURT. Q. What was the last time you know of this man living with her? A. Seven years ago he left her—I did not see him with her after 1862, because I came to London—that is twelve years ago—they were at Reading for some few months, but how they met and came there I have no recollection, and in the end she has gone to live with another man—I have not any doubt about the prisoner.
F. A. LINDSTROM (re-called). Court. Q. Can you tell me what the name of the man's father was? A. I think it was Elias—J. E.," Johann Elias, I believe.
ELIZA GOLLEDGE . I live at Cardiff, and I was living there in 1854—know the prisoner as Carl Lundgren—I know Sarah Colborne—I first knew the prisoner about the latter part of 1854, and I knew he was courting Sarah Colborne—I heard of the marriage—her sister Eliza, who is now dead, was living with us on account of Sarah keeping company with Lundgren—they both left suddenly together, and her father wrote to say they were married at Melksham—after the marriage I saw them in Cardiff daily—they lived together as man and wife—I afterwards knew them living at Bristol for two or three years—I saw the prisoner in the Queen's Bench, and I have no doubt he is the man.
Prisoner. Q. What time in the year did you see me in 1854? A. The latter part of the year—I am quite sure of that—I can't fix the month—I remember it was that year by taking a house in that year—I took the house in April, 1854, and it was in the latter part of the same year.
Prisoner. I know you very well, and you are right in saying you know me, but you are wrong in the year—do you know what brought Sarah down to your house? A. No, I don't—she was living at Cardiff with her brother William, and he turned her out of doors because she was keeping company with you—I don't know anything about her having a child before you married her—I did hear it; I did not hear whose child it was, it was before I knew her—her sister was a barmaid, and she came down to her sister—I left Cardiff to go to Bristol the same year that you were taken, in 1862, the last time I saw you till I saw you at Westminster—I believe it was in October—I was with you the same day you were taken, when you had the three years—I have been living at 44, Sheriff Street in Cardiff for the last three years or more—I don't remember the first captain who came up to my house—I may remember if you mention it—I don't know the name of "Hiccup"—I don't remember it at all.
COURT. Q. He means a man who went by the nickname of "Hiccup,"
because he bad the hiccups'? A. No; I don't know him—I knew the prisoner from 1854 till 1862.
JOHN NICHOLLS . I am a police constable in the City of Bristol police force, and have been in that force seventeen years—I know the prisoner—I knew him by the name of Charles Lundgren—I took him into custody at Bristol, in October, 1862—he was afterwards tried at the Bristol Quarter Sessions—I produce a certificate of his conviction, he was tried for felony, found guilty, and sentenced to three years penal servitude. (This certified the conviction of Charles Lundgren, on 24th October, 1862, for stealing a bill of Exchange for 248l. 2s. 3d., sentence, three years' penal servitude).—I was present at the trial—the prisoner is the man—he was kept in the gaol afterwards—I did not see him in gaol after the conviction—I had known him about eighteen months before he was arrested on that charge—he was living in Bristol some part of the time—I knew his wife and the family, the wife's brother and sister, and so on—I was present at Cardiff, in October, 1867, when he was tried at the Quarter Sessions—I produce a certificate of that trial—I was present at the trial. (This certified the conviction of John Lundgren, otherwise called Charles Lundgren, of obtaining money by fake pretences, he having been before convicted of felony—sentence, seven years' penal servitude). I saw him at Cardiff at that time, and then proved the previous conviction that had taken place at Bristol—I saw him at the Court of Queen's Bench, in December last—I have not the least doubt of his being the man.
Prisoner. It is perfectly correct that I was tried at Bristol, and got three years, at the same time he knows the reason why I got those three years, in his own mind. Witness. I know-you were charged with stealing a valuable letter containing 248l. 2s. 3d.—I can't tell who it was upon—Captain Augustus Cornelius, Captain of the hulks, was in the case—I knew nothing about the case till the warrant came and I apprehended you, I recovered 250l. of the money.
Prisoner. He entrusted me with a bill of Exchange in a letter, I went to the Police and registered the letter—in the course of time this bill of Exchange was sent to me to pay some bills with on account of a lady who was mixed up with him in the affair—I got charged with stealing this bill, and I was convicted innocently.
WILLIAM MATHWIN . I am a member of the firm of Joseph Heald and Co., of Newcastle—I was living there in 1866, I know the prisoner—in January, that year, I was present at the Quarter Sessions at Newcastle, when the prisoner was tried there—I gave evidence against him—I produce the certificate. (This certified the conviction of Peter Peterson, of unlawfully obtaining 12l. of William Mathwin, by false pretences, sentence, six months' imprisonment). The prisoner is the person—I saw him in December last in the Court" of Queen's Bench.
Prisoner. He is entirely wrong; it is impossible, because I joined the Grace and Jane, in 1866—she was loaded with Government Stores for Ascension—we arrived there, and discharged the Government Stores in December, and took in ballast, and went to Pernambuco, and from there to Demarara and Belize, and thence to St. Thomas's and Jamaica, where we loaded with pimento log wood, and condemned Governmentstores—we finished completing the cargo in Black river, and arrived in London at the end of February, 1867—I ask the press to take notice of this, because the people connected with it know I was on board, and that I signed in the name of John Smidt, as
steward, consequently, I could never have been in Newcastle at the time mentioned, or I should have been discharged from the prison there somewhere about July or August. Witness. I am perfectly certain he is the man—he got the money from one of my clerks, I was the prosecutor—the charge against him was that he represented himself to be the captain of a ship, and that by means of that representation he got 12l. from my firm; that was what he was tried and convicted for—I gave him in custody on 14th October, 1865, and he remained in the Common prison at Newcastle, until the January Sessions—he was sentenced to six months.
DENNIS POWER . I am chief warder of Millbank Prison—I know the prisoner—in December, 1873, he was brought there—I knew him, and said "Lundgren, are you come back again?"—he said "Yes, Mr. Power I am. It is not my fault, I would not have not have done it, I would not have gone into the witness box only for Mr. Onslow and the others at the office; they persuaded me, to do it, Mr. Onslow and Mr. Baigent, but Mr. Whalley knew nothing at all about it"—he then said "If anyone comes from the Treasury will you let them see me"—I said "If they do, they shall see you"—he said "I want to see Mr. Clarke, he knows all about me, I told him all"—I said "If you want any paper to make a statement, I will supply you with some"—I conducted him to his cell and ordered him his supper, and I saw no more of him that night—I knew him in 1863—received him from Bristol in 1863, on 24th December—this (produced) is the penal record—he came to me on 28th May, 1863, and on 8th July, 1863, he was removed to Portsmouth prison—on 11th April, 1865, he came back to Millbank, and on the 13th April, 1865, he was discharged on licence—I have the book here with his signature.
Prisoner. I don't know that I ever used such words to Mr. Power respecting Mr. Onslow and Mr. Whalley—I have never disputed that I was in Millbank.
WILLIAM GEORGE WOOD . I am one of the principal warders at the Chatham convict prison—I know the prisoner by the name of John Lundgren—he was received at the Chatham prison on 7th August, 1868, under sentence of seven years—he was discharged on 25th March, 1873, on licence—I saw him frequently every day for a considerable number of months or years, I may say.
GEORGE CLARKE . I am an inspector of the detective police at Scotland yard—I was present at the Court of Queen's Bench on 11th December last, when the prisoner was ordered to be prosecuted—I afterwards went to Mr. George Pulleyn's, No. 12, Churchyard Row, Newington Butts—Pulleyn was in court, and I knew that the prisoner had been living there some time—I searched the lodging, Pulleyn went with me—I there found some clothes which are in court, among them there was a striped shirt, it has been shown to Mrs. Miller—I took possession of some papers, which I have here—I saw Luie after this at Holloway prison—I went there with the order to bring him up to the Queen's Bench—I afterwards had some conversation with him in going from Bow Street to the House of Detention, on Saturday 13th December—previously in coming from Holloway he had asked me to advise him and I declined—he said "What had I better do"—I said "I can't advise you Luie, you are old enough to advise yourself"—he said "I was first spoken to in this matter"—I could not quite follow him—he was looking out of the cab window—ho said "Mr. W."—I said "What about Mr. W."—he said "He first spoke to me about this; Mr. Whalley first
spoke to me of this matter in the spring of the year at Brussels, I was at a house of ill-fame there, and I saw Mr. Whalley in Brussels, stopping there with his daughter, and he said, Mr. Whalley, speaking of a trial that was happening in England, said it made him ashamed of his country; that he said "One difficulty is that we cannot find anyone who saved a boat of a shipwrecked crew"—he replied "That would not be very difficult I should think; I have been a sailor myself," but nothing was particularly arranged on that occasion, or at Brussels at all"—he said "I saw Mr. Whalley a time or two after that, and I had communication with him—I first saw the man (speaking of the Claimant) about 4th or 5th July at Poet's Corner—I went early in the morning and I saw a man standing at the door who asked me my name—he had something the matter with one eye—I afterwards found him to be Baigent—Baigent asked me who I was—I told him Jean Luie—he said "Oh, yes, I know all about it; it has all been arranged"—he said "Bogle, the little black fellow was there, and I showed my fingers to him and he went into the inner room, I believe to tell the Claimant, for he came out shortly after," and said "If you are the man that saved me your little fingers are crooked"—I don't think there was much other conversation on that occasion—I had some further conversation with him on the following Tuesday—he said "Since I saw you I have had a visit from Mr. Whalley's nephew, Captain Nicholson—he brought me a letter from Mr. Whalley to say that he had given 5l. to Mr. Harding for my support, and that he had got a private letter for me, but as the warders were present he could not give it to me"—I told him at that time that I would rather he told all this to the Solicitor for the Treasury—he said "Very well, if he will come I will do so"—I said "Very well, then, if you wish I will inform Mr. Pollard"—I went with Mr. Pollard on the following day and went into the cell—the principal warder said "This is Inspector Clarke, and this is Mr. Pollard from the Treasury"—he said "Not now, not now, I have been advised to hold my tongue"—this was about the 14th or 15th December last—he said on one occasion "I never intended to give evidence, I only intended to make some money; I never should have gone into the witness-box if it had not been for the violence of Mr. Onslow: he is a very violent man; I begged of him scores of times not to put me in the box"—he said "The reason I was not in the box earlier was that I could not learn my lesson sufficiently"—he said "Mr. Onslow gave me a book of evidence of the former trial and pointed out certain passages in it having reference to the shipwreck, which I was to learn, and I have sat up many a night to study the book; he also put his hand on his side to show me the position of the brown mark on the Claimant's side; he also wanted me to prove the malformation, but I refused to do that, as I was afraid of getting into a mess"—he said "I also had to see Janes, who I got the information about Australia from," (Janes was a witness called for the defence) and Captain Brown I had to see frequently to arrange about the evidence at Rio"—he said "Brown was to have the Dock Superintendant's place at Southampton for his trouble; Mr. Onslow was to have the greater share of the property, and I was to be his steward, and the witness Janes was to be put in a public house, and Mr. Whalley was to have some of the property"—he said "I was very reluctant to commence it, because I never was in Australia or America in my life"—I said "You astonish me, Luie, by what you are telling me; I cannot suppose that Mr. Whalley would have gone to America unless it was upon some information of yours"—he said "That was all a barney and a part of
the piece; it speaks for itself; if I had not been there I could not have told him"—I said "I cannot suppose that, Luie, because I found some plan of the harbour of Melbourne among your papers"—he said What paper do you mean?"—I said "A short history of your life, which I found at your lodgings"—he said "Yes; I wrote that, but I had nothing to do with the drawing at the back; you will see it is in a different hand-writing"—I am not so sure whether I asked whose hand-writing it was, or whether he told me it was Mr. Onslow's, but ho said it was Mr. Onslow's writing at the back—this is the paper (produced)—the conversation went on for hours—he said he had been staying at Pulleyn's, afterwards at Rimel's, at Finchley, where I found this plan—I also found these two letters—the envelope is addressed to Mr. Jean Luie, late steward of the Osprey, and signed in the corner "W. H. Whalley"—inside that there is a paper purporting to be signed by Mr. Whalley, M.P., and Mr. Onslow, M.P.—(Read: "This is to certify on our own part, and on the part of all who have known Jean Luie, in relation to the Tichborne case, that he has shown himself to be a man of thorough honesty, and of very great intelligence, and that he has borne himself throughout all his life as a man entitled to confidence and respect; he has been exposed to great difficulties, harrasment, and temptation, through this affair, and he has remained staunch and true, and has rendered very great service to Sir Roger Tichborne"—enclosure, addressed to Mr. E. C. Gray, Docks, Southampton—Dear Sir,—The bearer of this letter is Jean Luie; I need hardly ask you to do all you can for him, and further, help him on board a vessel to Now York; he will telegraph from New York.—Guildford Onslow, Poet's Corner, 18th October.
Prisoner. Q. Have you got those letters with you that you took away from me? A. They are the letters—I never had one from you in the cab; you told me you had torn it up.
Prisoner. I am speaking about a letter that was written to mo about making a thorough confession, and that I should be rewarded by the Tichborne family and by the Lord Chief Justice, and all. Witness. I know nothing of such a letter—I did not take that letter from you in the cab—these (produced) are the only other writings that I have belonging to you, which I found at the lodging. (The following letter, which was among these papers, was here read:" As you are now committed for perjury, I strongly advise you to make a clean breast of the matter, and disclose all you know about the evidence you gave, and also mention the names of the individuals at whose instance you came into Court as a witness. I may inform you that one of the judges who tried the case is related to the Tichborne family, and of course is strongly biassed against the Claimant. Should you make a full disclosure of all you know, you will not only obtain a full and free pardon, but you shall also receive a large sum of money, which will enable you to leave this country and go to America. On the part of the Treasury, and also on the part of the judges of the Queen's Bench, there is a strong feeling against the Claimant, and the fact of one of the judges being related to the Tichborne family will be a great thing in your favour should you make the disclosures I suggest. Write to the Solicitor of the Treasury, Mr. Gray, saying you will give every information required, and you will immediately obtain your freedom and also a good round sum. When you are at liberty you can assume another name, call yourself William Smith or Jones, and go to, Australia or America, and no one will know anything about you. You can easily regain your position in life on going to a distant
quarter of the globe, with good means and money in your pocket, which you will obtain without difficulty from the Tichborne family, as the disclosures you can make will completely defeat the Claimant, and on that occasion the judge who is related to the Tichborne family will, behind the curtain, give you every assistance. Write also to Mr. Hawkins, telling him you are willing and ready to make all disclosures. I am one who knows of the relationship alluded to and who is also a native of Hampshire.") I got that from the prisoner, but there were many thousands such; and I did not recollect it at the moment—I found this on the prisoner. (The envelope addressed "Jean Lute, a witness in the Tichborne Trial, but now a prisoner in the Metropolitan prison of Holloway." Post mark, "Charing Cross, December 12th, 1873.") That would be when he was in prison—I bad no means of making any inquiry about that letter, it supplies no address—(A post card also produced by the witness was as follows: "Woodford, December—. To Mr. Jean Luie, the prison, Holloway, London. The kindness you showed to the half-drowned man is recorded in heaven; keep up your heart, notwithstanding the array of prosecuting witnesses, large numbers of persons have strong belief in your evidence and consider you may have been sent by providence to aid in restoring Sir Roger Tichborne to his rights. Ps. 37, v. 38.") There is no other letter, that is all I have—you told me that you had been written to to meet a person at the Marble Arch, and that you went there for that purpose but saw no one—this letter was found at the lodging—(Read: "I have just returned from Margate, and was present at one of Mr. Whalley's addresses, by which I learn, you was to be a witness in the present trial of the plaintiff; I should be most happy to meet you at the Marble Arch, Hyde Park, to-morrow at 1 p.m., when something beneficial for your future shall be----C.C.D.R.R.—addressed 'John Lewis—private.'") I mean to say that you told me all the things I have now mentioned; and you told me further "I wish I had known you before I had got into trouble"—you said "You recollect my calling upon you in Scotland yard"—you did call on 13th November, between four and five in in the afternoon, and I saw you in my office there—I could not tell what you wanted—I had some conversation with you of course—I was cautious with you then—you invited me to drink with you on that occasion—you did not talk about the Tichborne trial in particular—I can't tell what you called for—you complained of being watched—I did not know that Captain Nicholson had been to the prison, before you told me—I recollect your saying "I should not have got into this trouble if it had not been for the folly of Dr. Kenealey forcing Mr. Hawkins to call rebutting evidence"—I don't know anything respecting Dr. Kenealey and all the lot turning you over—I showed you a newspaper in the cab—it contained a report of some part of the trial, you asked to see it, it was in the Caledonian Road, I think, I purchased it going along there—I don't know what part of the trial it was—I have no doubt it was the day's paper—I did not tell you that if you made a disclosure that would lead to anything respecting other persons, in my own mind they would not prosecute you—you asked mo, and I told you repeatedly that I could not tell you that—you said "What good will this do me"—I said "I know nothing about it, I can't tell you that it will be of any service"—you said. "It is no good of my getting other people into trouble if I am not to benefit by it"—you said you would have no hesitation if it was not for Mr. 'Whalley, you did not wish to get Mr. Whalley into trouble.
Prisoner. When I was up at the Police Court, I said to you "What would you advise me to say now," you told me then to say these words: "I am sorry for what has happened, but I was made and compelled. Witness. I did not tell him to say that—he repeatedly asked me "I don't know what to do in a matter of this sort," he asked me that in the station yard when waiting to go in—I said "You must consider what is best for yourself."
Prisoner. Respecting the observations I made in the Police Court about being made and compelled, it was nothing else but that I was made and compelled to tell this by the Lord Chief Justice—that was the meaning of what I said.
JOHN GRANVILLF, LAYARD . I am assistant clerk at Bow Street Police Court—when Luie was brought up there on 16th December to have his ticket-of-leave cancelled, he made a statement which I took down in writing—this is my note of it made at the time—I am very sorry for what has happened; it would not have occurred had I not been encouraged and made up to do what I did; that is all I wish to say at present."
Prisoner. It must be a mistake in taking down, because I said "made and compelled." Witness. I am certain he said what I have taken down here, I took it down from his lips.
GEORGE PULLEYN . I live at 12, Churchyard Row, Newington Butts—I was business manager for Arthur Orton before he took his trial; he made a contract with a gentleman named Nugent to go through the country, and I went for him first, ultimately I became his manager—I attended meetings—I first knew the prisoner on 7th July, that was the first time I ever clapped eyes on him; he was not introduced to me at all, I expected a letter at Poet's Corner and I was there very early one morning, and when I got there I saw this man standing there—we got into conversation—it was afterwards arranged that he should come to live at my house; that was arranged by the lawyer Mr. Hendricks and the Claimant—I saw the Claimant at Poet's Corner—the arrangement was that he was to live at ray house and they were to pay me, independent of the meetings, 3l. 10s. a week, and he was to have what pocket-money in reason he thought proper—the Claimant, Orton, was to pay me; he holds three receipts of mine now—I was paid part of the money by the Claimant from time to time, four different payments—I have given four receipts for it—he came to me on 7th July, the first day I saw him—he remained with me up to the day he gave his evidence—the last evidence he gave, I think, was on 22nd January—he lived with me all that time till he gave his evidence—I also took him about the country with me; I paid his expenses—he had his spirits and his pocket-money, I gave it him and charged it—I found him clothes, I paid 3l. for them—I should think altogether I charged 60l. or 70l. for him during the time he was living with me; that was for clothes, pocket-money, and everything—when he left me there was 11l. owing, I was paid all but 11l.; the prisoner did not pay me a penny piece—I got two 5l. notes from the Claimant, at least, I got them from my wife—I never saw the prisoner with any money of his own.
Prisoner. Q. Do you remember that I asked you and your wife how it was that you should have charged up to the amount of 8l. a week for me? A. I did hear it, and I contradicted it, and said I never charged 8l. a week for you, and I should have been very sorry to have done such a thing—sometimes gave you a pound for pocket-money, sometimes 30s., and
sometimes 10s.—you had 30s. when we were in the country and 1l. a week in London—you went to meetings and collected subscriptions—you never did work, I never allowed you to go on the platform or anything of the kind—the 3l. 10s. a week was for everything, spirits, liquors and all.
MARY ANN PULLEYN . I am the wife of last witness—the prisoner lodged with us from 7th July—on two occasions I went to Besboro' Gardens to got some money in payment of his lodging, I can't remember the number—a woman opened the door—I inquired for the Claimant—I did not see him, an envelope was brought out directed to me, it contained a 5l. note;. I gave it to my husband, and it was taken as part payment for the prisoner's board and lodging—I did the same thing on a second occasion; I got another 5l. note in the same way at the same house to pay for his board and lodging—he never paid me a farthing himself.
ELIZABETH MILLER . I live at 2, Cardigan Road, Kilburn—in 1867 I was living at Paddington—in April that year I knew the prisoner by the name of, John Smith—I know that he married Harriet Arrend—I knew him afterwards living with her as her husband in April, 1867, for some few weeks—I then lost sight of him five or sis years—about 26th or 27th April last year he came back to me, it was the day before the Derby day—I knew him then as John Smith, he lived with me for seven weeks, up to 5th July—on that day I lent him 10s., and he then disappeared—I lost sight of him until I afterwards saw him at Millbank.
HARRIET ARREND . In April, 1867,1 was living at Paddington, at No. 2, Star Street—I kept a coffee-house there—I was a widow at that time—the prisoner came to lodge there at the latter end of February or the beginning of March, 1867, in the name of Captain John Smith—he said he was partner with John Green, the ship owner in East India Road—he courted me and married me at St. Peter's, Pimlico—he lived with me till the 6th of June, he then loft me—I put him in prison for assaulting me—I have not the slightest doubt about him.
ALFRED HENDRICKS . I am an attorney—I was engaged in conducting the defence of the Claimant in the Court of Queen's Bench—I think I first saw the prisoner on 6th or 7th July; it was on a Monday—I saw him at my office, Poet's Corner—he told me he wanted to speak to me privately, and eventually he told me his name—he said his name was John Lewis, and that he wished to make a very important statement, or words to that effect—I asked my friend, Mr. O'Brien, to take his statement—I was in and out of the room the whole time—Mr. O'Brien wrote it down, and I think I saw the prisoner sign it—the signature was attested by Mr. Whalley—he was present while it was taken—this is it (produced)—it was signed by the prisoner—it looks like John Luis—after that statement was taken down I read it—and gave some directions as to the prisoner going to see the Claimant—I believe he went in a cab with Mr. Whalley and Mr. O'Brien—he then came back and made a further statement—I think that was signed by him in the same way—afterwards another statement was taken by Mr. Whalley, the last two sheets there—these two lines that are struck out are in Mr. Whalley's writing "Apply to Messrs. Funcke and Mencke, New York, also Baron Falkenberg, New Bedford"—I telegraphed to New York, and wrote a letter on 10th July to Funcke, Eadie, and Co.—I found out that they were the representatives of Funcke and Mencke—about 5th August I received a reply to that letter—I showed it to the prisoner, and read it to him—this is it (Read: "July 22, 1873: Dear Sir,—Your letter of
10th instant, and a previous cable received. Our Mr. Funcke never owned a vessel by the name of the Osprey, or did Mr. Mencke, or Mr. Falkenberg, both of whom are dead. We have, at your request, examined the Custom House records for 1854, for such a vessel, also newspaper file from January to July, but in no case can any Osprey be found. Our Mr. Funcke does not recollect anybody by the name of Jean Luie"—When I read that to the prisoner he said that they had a motive for disclaiming all knowledge of him and of the Osprey; that they had filibustered the vessel; that the vessel had been consigned to them, and she was called the Helvetia, I think he said; and that they had altered her name, and appropriated her, and that was their motive for denying the existence of the vessel, and of himself—I did not say anything to that—he did not make any further statement about it at that time, but I had repeated conversations with him afterwards—he urged me to make inquiries, and so on—on 15th August I retired from the case—I believe these two letters (produced) to be in the prisoner's hand-writing—they are addressed to Mr. Rimell—I don't quite know what he is—I think he is a silver plate manufacturer—I have seen him constantly at Poet's Corner—he was a supporter of the Claimant. (Letters read: "City Prison, Holloway, 12th December, 1873—Mr. Rimell—Dear Sir,—I have not heard from any one of you, and I fear that all are inclined to believe me to be the scoundrel Lundgren, as is mentioned by all those monstrosse witness. It is a hard thing for me to bare, and you know very well that if I can have no assistances given to me to bring Lundgren's relations here as well as Jean's, the two American ladies, and they two men now in England, who knows both the Osprey and myself, independent of that villain woman, who is a—, and living with another man than her husband Lundgren, as well as proper and independent medical men to examine me respecting rupture, I must be in a hopeless state. But this I mean to tell you: let the matter take what course it will, I shall declare openly in court that no one connected with this case, or any one else, has ever used any influence on me, nor attempted such a thing as to make me tell the fate and circumstances with Sir Roger. It is the truth, and nothing but the truth, and that it seems to me villany is practised all over the world against both Roger and myself. Harcourt asked me if I could defend myself. What does he mean? I wrote you last night a letter. I wrote also to Mr. W. Perhaps you have not received it. What am I to do? I am shut out from the world, and am starving. I must go to the criminal side to-night, as I have no means. See what Sir Roger says. I am willing to undergo any medical operation to prove that I am not ruptured, or have any cause with me.—I am, obt. fd.—Jean Luie. P.S.—If I am rendered assistance Sir Roger and all of you are saved." "December 22, 1873—Mr. G. Rimell, 29, Golden Square—Dear Sir,—by this I beg to acquaint all of you that I am here retained, and have heard nothing. This is a miserable life, and to suffer such—all for not being allowed to have my own way. But what is done cannot be altered. I refer you to my last from House of Detention. I had letter from Plas Madoc, wherein was stated that 5l. had been sent to Harding. If the same is not returned please take charge of it for me, as you will see in the printed form. I don't want to have any letters unless of the greatest importance. I conclude by wishing yourself and family a mercy Christmas, and with respect to W----, in Plas Madoc, and all friends.—Your obedient—J. L. N.B.—None of you would know me now if you was to see me")—I believe Plas Madoc is where Mr. Whalle's lives.
Prisoner's Defence. I am deprived of the means of calling witnesses—I do not see any one in Court that I can call—(Mr. Whalley proffered himself as a witness)—I have lots of witnesses to call, but I have not got them here, and I don't know what to do—there is only one gentleman here, that is Mr. Whalley, who has been over in New York and ascertained some facts, I wish Mr. Whalley to be called.
GEORGE HAMMOND WHALLEY , Esq., M.P. I went over to New York to ascertain the facts stated by the prisoner; I called on Mr. Funcke—I did not go on the prisoner's account—I went to Staten Island to the Custom House which has connection with Staten Island, where the vessels that would load at Staten Island might probably clear out—they clear out at a place called Porthamberg—I found a register at the Custom House; I did not find the clearing out of any Osprey, but I found such explanation at Porthamberg on the subject as accounted. I found in the Custom House books at New Bedford ships registered as belonging to. Baron Falkenberg, and I think one was called the Falkenberg, I forget the other one, it was not the Osprey—I found the existence of Mr. Funcke at New York—I found full confirmation there of what the prisoner stated—he gave me certain letters to Mr. Funcke which I delivered; they were not to Mr. Funcke, they were to servants of Mr. Funcke, both of whom were dead, but they were handed by me to Mr. Funcke and verified by him, and the contents of those letters were verified.
Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. After the prisoner had given his evidence in the Court of Queen's Bench, I gave him 5.2. on the day he was about to leave, I think it was the day after he had given his evidence—Mr. Onslow also gave him 5l., we both gave him 5l. I think it was after the second day, I think it must have been the 16th, it was the day we signed the paper, the testimonial to character; that testimonial was written by me—I have been in Court most of the time while this trial has been going on; I wrote this, "that he has borne himself through all his life as a man entitled to confidence and respect"—I ask permission to explain specifically why I used those words; they were written with great deliberation under these circumstances, we knew that the Crown had in their service a great number of detectives engaged in following up any investigation, and ascertaining the character of every person that was called, or about to be called on the part of the defence, that every circumstance of their life was in the hands of the cross-examining counsel, and we came to the conclusion that if anything whatever could be found against this man unless he was a plant by the Government, unless he was put forward knowingly as the man he turns out to be, that that undoubtedly would have become known to the Government and would have been disclosed in his cross-examination. Therefore Mr. Onslow and myself, in considering what was due to the man, deliberately stated that we believed, having passed through the cross-examination as he did, that his character was by that circumstance well established; that was the reason—it was a matter of full consideration, and not written with any haste or carelessness—I signed it "G. H. Whalley, M.P." and Mr. Onslow signed as "Guildford Onslow, M.P.;" we desired to give as much weight to the testimonial as we could—we knew that the Government had detectives who knew the whole life of every witness, by the complaints that were made by those witnesses of the extent to which they were harrassed previous to being called, one person committed suicide in consequence, so we were told, and his widow had to be provided for—am a magistrate of three counties—I live
at Plas Madoc—I have given you the reasons why we used those words "that he had borne himself through all his life as a man entitled to confidence and respect"—that was to the best of our belief; we certified it, of course, to the best of our belief—I gave him that certificate and put M.P. after my name in order that he might take it with him to America; we had the further object in it that in going to America he was to look up such evidence as he could collect and telegraph here, so that his evidence could be corroborated, believing as I did, and do, that his evidence as to the Osprey was true.
COURT. Q. What? A. That the evidence he gave in regard to the Osprey was true—I believe that now, and I can give my reasons—I have been in Court all day.
MR. POLAND. Q. Did you know that he was going to America on 16th October, after his two days' examination? A. I had no further knowledge than that Mr. Onslow and myself requested that he should go immediately, with as little delay as possible—I knew that Mr. Onslow had given him a letter of introduction to the Dock Master of Southampton to give him every assistance to get away; I concurred in that—after he was in custody, I sent my nephew, Captain Whalley Nicholson, to the House of Detention to see him—I sent 5l. to another person, if he was in the state I was told he was, for his benefit—(looking at the plan of Melbourne Harbour) I do not know the writing on this plan—I am almost sure it is not Mr. Onslow's writing; I would not be quite sure—it looks to me, so far as I remember the writing of the man, to be the prisoner's—the words are "Melbourne," "Sandridge," and "Williamstown"—I do not recognise it at all as the writing of Mr. Onslow—I could not undertake to swear it was not—I say it does not at all resemble it, but I think it does resemble the prisoner's—I believe it is the handwriting of the prisoner; that is my impression from the letters I have seen of his; but before giving a final answer I should be glad to see his writing; the letters he wrote to Mr. Rimell—I believe it is his writing—I should have said that it certainly was not Mr. Onslow's—I take upon myself to say that; to the best of my belief it is not—I went up with the prisoner and Mr. Onslow in a cab on 7th July to see the Claimant—I think I heard after that, in a general way, that he was put into the charge of the witness Pulleyn—I did not know that he was being maintained by the Claimant; I had no knowledge of any of those matters—I knew Pulleyn as one attached to the Claimant and of his services, more or less—I have had no communication with the prisoner in any form or shape before yesterday, nor had anything to do with his defence; but yesterday on coming here and finding that he was not defended, I immediately sent to Mr. Lewis, and said "Let him be defended."
COURT. Q. Do you mean that, as far as you were concerned, yesterday was the first time Mr. Lewis was retained for the defence? A. Yes—I have had no communication whatever, directly or indirectly, with this man since he was sent to prison, since I was bail for him; I was bail for him for some time alone; I mean since he was at the police-court or before—I was in Court yesterday when the clerk said what he did say—I did not quite understand him to say that Mr. Lewis had been retained for the defence here; what I understood was that Mr. Lewis was retained at the police-court, and that he was again retained yesterday.
At the prisoner's request, Charles Janes and Mr. Goodridge were called, but did not answer.
Prisoner. During my cross examination in the Court of Queen's Bench
I objected to answer the questions of Mr. Hawkins respecting the latest period of my life in consequence of a misfortune that I was really led into, but the Lord Chief Justice ordered me to answer the questions. I was compelled to do so, and I did it as it came into my mind at the time. Numbers of witnesses have been called here against me as to the period of 1853 and 1854, one, according to his account, being himself a schoolfellow of mine. How is it possible for me to contradict these men when I am deprived entirely of assistance, either legal assistance or assistance of people whom I should have been able to bring forward? If I had time I should prove that they are mistaken—entirely mistaken—in the identity. It requires, in fact, a wonderful memory for any one to distinguish one man from another after a period of over twenty years' time, and especially when you have a man only just come into Court to discern an individual Had I been able to be defended, and produce witnesses, it would certainly have substantiated my story to a great extent. Of course in the later periods of 1862 and 1867 misfortunes have fallen to my lot. That undoubtedly is true, but respecting the time of 1852, 1853, and 1854, there is no truth whatever in what has been said. I don't say that people have perjured themselves, because if they have perjured themselves a vast number of witnesses who have been brought against Roger Tichborne must be as bad as they are in that respect. But I say I have been the sole victim of prosecution from a number of people amounting to nearly 300, no matter on which side. I think it is very bard indeed that I should suffer the inconvenience in which I am placed. It can be proved, and will in time come out, that the Osprey which I joined at New Orleans in 1852, and was with her up to July, 1854, is a fact undoubtedly, and it will be found to be true. Time will tell that, and it should have been proved satisfactorily both to your lordship and the jury, if I had had that ample means given me which I now stand in need of. Had it not been for the misfortune of this bigamy affair of mine I certainly should never have given the account which I have given, because I stood in the position that whatever turn I took, when it came to the period of 1855 to 1857, whether I admitted that or made any false statement or not, it would have fallen to my lot to be punished. I am very sorry that this has taken up the time so long, keeping your lordship and the jury for such a length of time through the calling of these witnesses, since I am not in a position now to bring forward evidence in support of my story. Very sorry, indeed, I am, but I trust that the time will come soon enough to prove my story and the fact of the Osprey in 1854. At the same time, I beg his lordship to be as lenient in his punishment towards me as possible, bearing in mind that I have still eighteen or nineteen months to be under servitude.
The Prisoner expressed a wish to call James Brown and the Claimant, but subsequently decided not to do so. Guilty— One Days' Imprisonment and Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
The certificate of Castro's conviction was put in.
MATTHIAS LEVY . I am a short-hand writer—I was present at a portion of the trial of Castro in the Court of Queen's Bench, on 8th October—the prisoner was called as a witness on that day—he was sworn in the usual way and gave evidence—I took down part of the evidence he gave that
day—I have my notes here—I have compared them with the printed evidence—this is the copy that I revised, it is correct—I begin at page 2,029, and go down to 2,030—on 9th October, I again took a portion of the day—I have my notes and the print revised in the same way—I took from page 2,083, to the end of the day 2,114—at page 2,098, and 2,099, a document was put in—this (produced) is it—I have compared the print with it—it is correct—it was produced by Mr. Hawkins and the prisoner acknowledged that the signature was his.
CHARLES BENNETT . I am a short-hand writer—on 8th October, I was present at this trial and took part of Brown's evidence, from page 2,030 to 2,040—I revised this printed transcript by my notes—it is correct.
WILLIAM AISH DAVIS .—I am a short-hand writer—I was present at the Court of Queen's Bench on 9th October, and took a portion of Brown's evidence, from page 2,043 to 2,083—on 10th October, I began at the sitting of the Court, at page 2,117 to 2,130—I have compared this transcript with my original notes and altered it in accordance with the original note. (The evidence given by the prisoner was read in part: the portions upon which the perjury was assigned, being that he was in the service of Mr. Hobbs, Ship Chandler at Rio, and was resident there from 1st January, 1853, to 12th August, 1854; that he was introduced to R. C. Tichborne by Captain Birkett, Master of the Bella, and by Captain Oates, Master of the, John Bibby, at the Fariee Hotel, Rio, about 12th, 13th, or 14th April, 1854, that he occupied a double-bedded room, in that hotel; that Tichborne and Captain Oates slept in that room, and used a bath there; that on 21st April, 1854, he was on board the Bella in company with Birkett, Hosking, Oates and Tichborne, who were all drunk, and saw the Bella sail, and took Oates on shore; that he saw a barque called lie Osprey, at Rio, for three or four months in 1853, and saw Luxe as mate of her; that on 4th December, 1868, he left Millwall in the Otago, of which Thorndyke was master, and proceeded on a voyage to Cardiff, and thence to New Orleans and Cronstadt, and that he remained at New Orleans from March, till December, 1869, and was in prison there nine months in 1869.)
THOMAS OATES . I am a captain in the merchant service, and have been a captain twenty-five years—early in 1854 I was master of the John Bibby, and was with my vessel at Rio—remember the Bella arriving while I was there, and knew her captain very well indeed, Captain Birkett—he was a personal friend of mine—he had then been about three years in command of the Bella—the George Fafe, Captain Hosking, was at Rio at the same time, she is a Liverpool ship—I remained at Rio five or six weeks—I have not got the books with me, but this (produced) is an old journal which I kept at the time—it is in my writing—I arrived in Rio on 2nd April, and left again on 12th May, 1854—I remember the Bella sailing about 20th April—on the morning she sailed I went on board of her to see Captain Birkett, and to assist a young gentleman who was with him, whose name I have since ascertained was Roger Tichborne—I cannot recollect the name he went by at that time—I was to get him out without a passport, he had got into difficulties—he represented that his friends were very well off, but he had not the means of paying his debts in Rio, and Captain Birkett gave him a passage to New York—he promised Captain Birkett that he would pay him at some future time as his friends were very wealthy—I managed to get him away without a passport, by leaving my own ship early in the morning with my boat's crew and going on board the Bella, which was lying at the outer anchorage all ready to go to sea—my own ship was in the
inner anchorage in the ballast ground, not more than a quarter of a mile from the nearest landing place, and a quarter of a mile from the Bella—I slept on board my own ship, and when I got on board the Bella, Captain Birkett was there and this young Englishman—that was about 5 a.m., and the Bella was preparing to weigh anchor, and a steam-tug was ready to tow her out to sea—I saw the young gentleman there and Captain Birkett, and the steward arranged that he should go down into the lazarette, under the store room, under the cabin floor—it is a place where they stow provisions and light goods, and is opened with a grating hatch—the steward placed a few packages over the hatch after he was down—it is like a small hold from one side of the ship to the other—he would have plenty of room, and he would not see if the hatch was lifted up for a moment—the steward replaced the hatch and the steamer came alongside, and the ship began to move down the harbour—she was made fast and towed ahead, and when she got opposite Fort Balignan, which is a Government Fort, near the entrance of the harbour the Government officer came on board to give the ship her final clearance—he brought a true list certified by the English Consul—the Bella's crew were mustered and each answered to their names—the officer said "No passengers!" or something of that sort, as no passengers were marked on the list—the Brazilian officer said that I must leave the ship before he did—I bade Captain Birkett good bye and got into my boat—that was a mile or a mile and a-half from the anchorage—it was in order to pass that place that we stowed him away—as soon as my boat left I saw the Brazilian officer get into his boat and I pulled directly back to the John Bibby to breakfast, and the Bella proceeded on her voyage in tow of the steamer—Captain Birkett was perfectly sober that morning and so were the crew, and they were all at work as far as I know—I was perfectly sober—Captain Hosking was not on board the Bella, while I was there—I had seen the young gentleman on shore several days previous—the prisoner was not on board while I was there—it is not true that while I was there a panel was taken out of the state cabin, and the young gentleman put in there by the prisoner—Captain Hosking, and Captain Birkett, and I, did not go on board in one boat—I left the young gentleman with Captain Birkett on board the boat, and I found him there the next morning—it is an utter impossibility that the whole of the' crew were drunk, and that the hawser slipped, and that they, got it on board again and made it fast—I saw the vessel and all went on smoothly—the prisoner was not there at all during the whole time I was there—the hawser did not slip, there was no accident whatever—he did not lift me and Captain Hosking into his boat, and row us both ashore together—I never introduced the young gentleman to the prisoner at Rio, by the name of Mr. Tichborne or otherwise—the first time I saw the young gentleman at Rio, was at Fox's stores with Captain Birkett—I never played at billiards with the young gentleman at the Fairy Hotel, Rio—I could not play at that time—I did not in April sleep in a double-bedded room there, this man occupying one of the beds, or at any hotel with him—I never had a bath in his presence in a room at Rio—I never saw him at Rio—I first saw him at Bow Street, when he was brought up on this charge—I knew very little of the hotels at Rio in 1854, but the water was not laid on to the houses then—a few days after the Bella sailed a vessel brought in her longboat and two watercasks—it was then supposed that something had happened to the Bella, and I heard of her loss afterwards when I got to
China—I never saw any more of Captain Birkett or the crew—I saw a person on his trial in the Court of Queen's Bench, he had no resemblance to the person I stowed away—after Captain Hosking and I had been examined at Bow Street, the prisoner in my presence stated before the Court that we were not the men he had seen at Rio de Janerio, that there was another Captain Oates in command of the John Bibby, and another Captain Hosking in command of the George Fife—I know no other Captain Oatea in the Mercantile Marine, and there is no other John Bibby—she was named after a member of the firm well-known in Liverpool, Old Mr. John Bibby—her tonnage was 850—the George Fife was between 800 and 900 tons, and both were ships, not barques—as a sailor I can undertake to say that there were not two other ships of those names at Rio—the John Bibby is the only ship of that name on the Mercantile List—I was examined about this matter at the Law Institution in 1868, and on 23rd May last I was examined at the Queen's Bench, as a witness for the prosecution as to the Bella, and as to the stowing this young man away—I was not in the gallery with a lady on 8th October, I was in Hull—I left London on the 1st, and did not return again till the 17th or 18th.
Prisoner. This gentleman is not the Captain Oates I was alluding to—did I say there were two George Fife's, at Bow Street. Witness. I understood you so—I did not have a Custom House pass to go on board the Bella on 21st April—any vessels plying about the harbour of Rio are liable to be asked their business, and if you give a civil answer that you are going to such a ship, it is not necessary to have a pass—you can pass from the shore to a ship without a pass, but you cannot land without being examined by the Custom House officers ashore.
ROBERT HOSKING . I reside at Boston in Lincolnshire—I have kept the North Union Hotel there about three years and eight months—before that I was a captain in the merchant service for thirty-two years—I was twenty-two years a master—I was with one set of owners a "long time—I was with three different owners at Liverpool—I was with Stenny & Co. three years, and with John Bibby & Co. about five years, and with Haynor & Co. for something like seven years—in 1854 I was in command of the George Fife, she hailed from Dundee—the owners were. Messrs. Niche and Small—that was my first voyage in the George Fife—we arrived at Rio on 15th February, 1854, and remained there up to 26th April, 1854—Captain Oates was there at the time in command of the John Bibby—we arrived there before the John Bibby and I remember her coming in—I knew him well and I saw him every day—the Bella arrived there a week or ten days after me and I knew Captain Birkett very well indeed—I was on board of her several times while she was there—I was on board of her the day before she sailed, she was then in the outer harbour intending to go to sea that day—mine was a visit to bid Captain Birkett good bye—I went in my gig between nine and ten in the forenoon, and was on board twenty or thirty minutes—I left again in my gig and went back to my ship and was not on board the Bella after that.
By the COURT. Q. Where were you next morning? A. On board my own ship—I came on board about 6.30 and asked my chief officer if the Bella had sailed, he said "Yes," and I saw her clearing the outer fort towing out, and beyond where the Custom's officer would come.
MR. BEASLEY. Q. Did you see the prisoner at Rio? A. Never during my two months and eleven days—the first time I ever saw him was at Bow
Street, at the examination before the Magistrate—it is not true that I was on board the Bella when she sailed, I was not out of my bed—it is not true that I and Oates and Birkett and the young man went off drunk in a boat together—I never saw them the worse for liquor—it is false that I was so drunk that I could not help myself—I never went in a boat with the prisoner in my life—I saw Roger Tichborne on two occasions, once at the hotel and once between the two Stores in Lower Street near the harbour—I did not speak to him on either occasion—I never played at billiards with him, I never saw a billiard room all the while I was there—he was with a lot of young gentlemen belonging to the town—after I had been on board the Bella the morning before for about twenty minutes, the young gentlemen came up the ladder on to the deck from a shore boat—I saw Orton, the defendant, in the late trial in the Corn Exchange at Preston twelve months ago last October trying to raise money—he was decidedly not the person I saw at Rio as Roger Tichborne—during the time I was at Rio there was no other Captain Oates or Captain Hosking in command of merchant ships.
Prisoner. I know you and recollect you well, and thought your name was Fox—did you ever go to an hotel at St. Accused, which Mrs. Mina kept? A. I never did—I did not see a black ship lying outside with her bowsprit gone and her topmast down—I recollect that a French ship capsized at Rio, but the mate did not shoot himself—the gas was not laid on at Rio when I left.
COURT. Q. Have you been at Rio since? A. No—a contract for the gas pipe had come out from England—I don't believe there was any water laid on—I think we got the water for our ships from a water tank.
Prisoner. The Captain Hosking whom I knew was six inches shorter than you—the water was laid on in 1851—the black ship was the ship Captain Oates commanded—she was called the John Bibby, of New York, and Captain Oates was in the Queen's Bench the day before I went to the Court—the other Captain Hosking had a brigantine, I think, but I won't be sure. Witness. There was only one John Bibby there, and only one Captain Oates, and only one Captain Hosking.
FRANCIS LINDSTROM . I live in Carlisle Street, Liverpool, and am a native of Gottenberg, in Sweden—I was born on 1st April, 1827—I knew at Gottenberg Carl Peter Lundgren—we sat in the school close to each other—he was a seafaring man—he was a year or year and a-half older than I was, and went to sea with a cousin as a cabin-boy before I left school—he was then mate, and afterwards captain—the first vessel he went from Gottenberg in as captain was the Wilhelm and then the Isabella—he correspondent owner of the Isabella was Mr. Lundgren, and the father was part owner—the Isabella left Gottenberg, I believe, in 1852, for England, with Carl Peter Lundgren as captain—that is the man who was tried here yesterday, who calls himself Jean Luie—I did not see him till yesterday, when I came yesterday.
HERMAN THEODORE TRANA . I am in the service of Montgomery and Co., provision merchants, of Liverpool—in 1850 and 1851 I was in the service of Heald and Co., of Newcastle, ship-brokers—in 1850 or 1851 a vessel called the Isabella arrived at Newcastle—I went on board her—Carl Lundgren, who was tried here was the captain—I afterwards saw him at Hull in 1853 and 1854—I was then corresponding clerk in the same firm as he was—we were fellow clerks five or six months, during which time I
saw him daily—he spoke Swedish, he is a Swede, and so am I—I saw him again in Bristol in 1862.
SAMUEL SHIELDS . I am a ship-broker of Hull—in 1853 I was a partner in the firm of Lundgren and Co., of Hull—Lundgren, who was tried here yesterday was in their service until I left, in October or November, 1853, and after I left I knew him at Hull in the same firm—I am quite certain he is the man I saw yesterday—I gave him orders from day to day.
JOHN LUNDGREN . I am a ship-broker, of 39, Horseferry Road—I am a native of Finland—I have been in England since 1848—I carried on business as a ship-broker at Hull and Grimsby from 1851 to 1857—Mr. Trana was a clerk in my service, and Carl Lundgren, who was tried yesterday, was another clerk in 1853 and 1856—Mr. Shields was my partner for a time.
JOHN DONNETT . I am secretary, and one of the examiners under the Local Marine Board, London, and was so in 1861—this is my signature to an application by a person named James Brown, to be examined for a master's certificate—he was examined and I signed this paper—in order to be examined he had to make out this list containing his entire services at sea—the last three vessels are numbered 1, 2, 3 and 4, with ticks against them, that means that he produced testimonials of good conduct corresponding with his period of service from the owners or from the master if he was mate—he came up first, being desirous to pass as master, but failed once and came up a second time, and only obtained a certificate for seamanship—this (produced) is his letter—he only got a first mate's certificate—that would be returned to him in ordinary course—in all cases where the applicant has served a period he has to make a declaration before a magistrate or before the Lord Mayor, at the Mansion House—the certificate was returned to him when he passed—these papers show the ships on board which he was—from 1853 to 1858 he returns himself as mate of the Equity, of Boston, had his services been confined to English ports he would have to produce his discharge—I have heard of the original application made by him.
Prisoner. Did you examine me? A. No; my colleague did, Captain Noakes, he was the other examiner in seamanship—he is alive, but is in very bad health.
GEORGE CLARKE . I am Chief Inspector of Police at Scotland Yard—on Friday, 6th March, I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest, and took him in custody in Sutton Street, Shadwell—I read the warrant to him—he made no reply—this pocket-book (produced) was on the table, and it contained these papers—(one of these was a certificate that Mr. J. Brown sailed in the Annie in April 1868 to 1869, and was discharged at Rio de Janerio; another, that William Brown sailed to Newport, in Wales, on 25th March, 1870.
Prisoner. He has said nothing but what is right.
ISAAC ORFORD PHILIP STEWART . I am principal clerk in the Seamens' Kegister Office—I produce the ship's articles of the Annie, of Halifax, Nova Scotia—she sailed on 30th December, 1868—James Brown was the chief mate—she went on a voyage from London to Rio—the register is signed by James Brown, and he was discharged at Rio by mutual consent on 29th April, 1868.
Prisoner, That is perfectly right.
JOHN SARJEANT . I am a clerk in the principal searcher's office, Custom House, London—I produce the ballast clearing-book for 1868 and 1869, which would contain the entry of foreign vessels leaving in ballast—I
find that the Annie left on 30th December, 1868, and on 3rd December, 1862, the Otago, of which Thorndyke was the master, cleared from Newport and from Monmouth for New Orleans.
Prisoner's Defence. Gentlemen of the Jury,—I have not much explanation to make. I made a mistake in the identity of the men, but I am not guilty of perjury. What I have said is perfectly true. If they find me guilty, God Almighty will not find me guilty. The explanation about the papers is this—if I could go to Washington and get a list of the ships you would only find my name from December 1856 to 1858. That could be easily found at Washington, but it could only be got from the Secretary of State at Washington. I have no doubt the prosecution know that but they won't own it.
GUILTY — One Day's Imprisonment, and Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 9th, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
277. THOMAS CONSTABLE (61) , to embezzling the sums of 1l. 19s., 2l. 17s., 9l. 14s., and other sums, of William Henry Cook, his master.— Nine Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
C. W. JONES (City Policeman, 879). On the evening of March 12th I was in Bishopsgate Street with Cross at 5.45, and saw Steele at the corner of Wormwood Street—we watched him an hour and a half, and saw him go into the Bell public-house, Aldgate, he came out and met Wilde, who handed him this bag—they both went into the Bell, Steele went into the taproom and examined the contents of the bag—I went in and told him we were police officers, and should take him in custody for receiving the bag well knowing it to be stolen—he was emptying the small bag into a large one, shaking it; I think the small bag had been in the large one—at the police-station Steele dropped in the dock a list of Messrs. Hewlett's prices, and said that he had bought this cream of tartar at various little shops—I found nothing on him but a pocket-book and some papers relating to drugs.
Steele. Q. Were you 20 yards off the Bell? A. Something like that, it was dark but this was under a lamp—I had seen you in the Bell before that, reading a paper—you produced several bills when I spoke to you, but you could not produce one to show where you had bought this article—we watched you through the taproom window about 3 yards from you.
Steele. Q. When you took Wilde did you ask him whether he knew me? A. No; but he said you came to him at dinner-time and asked him to bring out some stuff that night, and you would meet him at the corner of Church Road, and would sell it, and would meet him next day at dinnertime and would pay him for it—I took him next morning at Messrs.
Hewlett's, and told him it was stealing 9 lbs. of cream of tartar; he said you asked him to steal it, and he stole it and gave it to you—you were then in the cell and he had not seen you; he was asked whether he knew you and he said "Yes."
Steele. Q. Did you miss the cream of tartar or the bag? A. No; it could be stolen without our knowing it, but not easily by people not in our employ; this bag is similar to ours.
Re-examined. We had cream of tartar similar to this, and Wilde had access to it.
HENRY PESSMIRE . I am counterman to the prosecutors, Wilde was employed there on the floor where we kept cream of tartar—this cream of tartar, this bag, and this string are similar to what we had on the premises.
EDWARD WILDE (the prisoner). When the officer took me he asked me whether you knew my name; I said I did not know you till I saw you, that was before I had seen you; I said I gave some one the small parcel, the parcel I took weighed 5 lbs., and the bag was lined with blue paper—this is not the bag I gave you—you were not confronted with me before I said I gave you the cream of tartar—I had not seen you for five years, and I said you were a perfect stranger to me and I did not know your name—we use two colours for lining bags, white and blue—I will swear this is not the parcel that I stole from my employers.
Cross-examined. This bag is lined with white—I went out the evening of the 12th, met Steele and gave him a bag; but this is not the bag I gave him—it contained cream of tartar which I had taken from my master's premises.
COURT. Q. How came you to give it to him? A. He came round to me on Thursday morning and told me he wanted some and would I get it, and I gave it to him on Thursday night—he did not say how I was to get it—he did not ask to buy some—I had met him five years formerly with a party I knew, but I did not know his name and I had not seen him since—no arrangement was made as to what I was to get for it—I had no idea where he lived—I did not know him at Brook Street—the bag I had was smaller than this, but this was not it—there was not a smaller bag inside it—I went with him into the Bell, but I had gone when the prisoner came—I did not stop there five minutes—this was the first time I took anything from my masters.
Prisoner Wilde. Do you know anybody else who asked you for cream of tartar who used to work at Defries and Scott's? A. No; I swear that.
Steele's Defence. Wilde has not given the same statement as he did before the officers, and the officers have altered the statements which they made at Guildhall.
STEELE— GUILTY .
He was further charged with having been before convicted at this court, in April, 1867, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
WILDE— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. SIMS conducted the Prosecution. The evidence was interpreted to the prisoner.
CHARLES VONTUKNO (Detective Sergeant). I arrested the prisoner on a warrant, on 13th February, in Fitzroy Square—I found this pocket book on him (produced) with these entries in it—I went to 21, Coleman Street, the name of Messrs. Broad & Co. was on the door—I found this slip of paper in the key-hole—I said to the prisoner "I have a warrant for your arrest for trying to defraud Messrs. Blanchard, of Paris, of a lot of goods, and read the warrant to him"—he said, in French, "I am not Messrs. Blum-berg & Co.," I am only a clerk.
WILLIAM TIFFEN . I am chief clerk to Messrs. Blumberg & Co., of 2, Cannon Street, exporters and importers of clocks and other goods—the prisoner has no connection with that firm—I do not recognize his signature on either of these papers.
Prisoner. Yes, I did write them.
AUGUSTE HENRY JULITO BLANCHARD . I live in Paris, and am a manufacturer of clock movements—I received all these letters and memoranda from Paris—I do not know which of them I answered myself and which my clerk answered—I sent a number of clock movements to the address given, 3, Grafton Street, to the value of 15,644 francs, between February and July—there were twelve or fourteen deliveries—it was the the name of Blumberg & Co. which induced me to send the goods as I knew that that was a good firm—I know now that they carry on business in Cannon Street I came to London on 18th August, went to Grafton Street—it was a private house—I was shown into a room where some ladies were—a case of goods was then on its way to Blumberg & Co., and in consequence of what I saw I took a cab to the railway station and tried to stop the goods, but did not succeed—the order was given at the end of July, and it came over in August I have never been paid for any goods consigned to Blumberg & Co.—I saw part of my goods at Valogne's and part at Solomon's—those at Solomon's were worth 2,000 francs—it was a heavy box—this (produced) is one of my movements, and is marked with my name, it is one which I consigned to Blumberg and found at Solomon's, and this (produced) is another—this (another) has initials on it—I should not have sent the goods to the prisoner if I had known that he was not Blumberg.
CHARLES CHABOT . I am an expert in handwriting—my chambers are 27, Red Lion Square—I see in this pocket book the entry "Kentish Town," and I believe this memorandum received by Mr. Blanchard, in February, 1873, to be in the same writing, and also in the same writing as these translations spoken to by M. Pynot—the signature to this letter, signed "Debreville for Blumberg" is in the same writing as the signature to the translations, but I cannot say as to the body—I cannot tell whether the person signing wrote the letters, because it is a quaint signature, but the bodies are in the same writing, and the signatures are in the same writing—I believe this signature "Larrys & Co." to be in the same writing as this Debreville—this paper found in the key-hole, signed Brunneau, is also in the same writing—I believe the prisoner wrote this signature and also this for "Blumberg & Co."—and I have no doubt that this Debreville is his—I could form a better opinion if I sat down and inspected it.
Prisoner. The signature "Blumberg" is not mine, but I wrote all the letters for Mr. Godin.
SARAH ANN BELL . I am landlady of 3, Grafton Street, Fitzroy Square—the prisoner and another man took a back room first floor there unfurnished, about 16th December, 1872, at 5s. a-week, and left in July, 1873—I never went into it, they used it for storing clocks and different goods—the prisoner spoke English quite fluently—he said that he should put a table and a chair or two into the room, he merely wanted it for a small office to write letters in and to receive goods which were coming—I saw no furniture—a great many letters came and I saw the prisoner open them many times—the other man also opened letters—the post marks were generally "Paris," and they were addressed Messrs. Blumberg & Co., 3, Grafton Street, Fitzroy Square—the other man was a good height and neither dark nor light—the prisoner's name never transpired—I called them both Blumberg and they answered—no manufacturing business was carried on in that room—no one had access to it but those two men.
Prisoner. Q. When Mr. Blumberg did not pay the rent what did you say? A. I always applied to you because Mr. Blumberg did not understand English—the other man always paid the rent—you always translated for him.
CHARLES CHABOT (re-examined). I have now compared the signatures—I think the signatures Blumberg are all by one hand, I am inclined to doubt whether they are in the prisoner's writing, I should think not, but all the others are—I think the signatures of Blumberg are in an Englishman's writing—the small e's are all very much the character of English.
Prisoner. The signature Blumberg & Co. was written by Mr. Blumberg himself.
CHARLES ALBERT . I am an interpreter—I have translated into English the letters and memoranda which are attached to the depositions. (The letters were here put in and read, they were dated March 3rd, April 2nd, April 29th, May 7th, May 13th, June 17th, July 8th, July 21st, July 23rd, August 12th, and August 16th), giving orders to Mr. Blanchard for different kinds of clock movements.
WILLIAM LOW . I am housekeeper at No. 1, Union Street, Middlesex Hospital—I knew the prisoner as M. Laryys & Co. from the middle of October to the middle of December, 1873—he took my back parlour in October for which he was to pay four shillings a-week—he said he should furnish it but he did not do so—he spoke English well—there was a short man with him—I knew one of the parties as Mr. Broad, 21, Coleman Street, City, he used to come there to see the prisoner—this paper given to mo by the prisoner is in his writing in my opinion.
JULIAN SOLOMON . I am manager to Alfred Solomon, general merchant of 303, Strand, and at 3, Billiter Street, where he is a monetary agent and auctioneer—I purchased some clock movements from the prisoner, and he gave the name of Blumberg & Co.—I had three transactions with him—he was introduced by a man named Nathan, a commission agent—he spoke in French and Nathan translated to me—all through my dealings ho had his French translated into English—I identify these clock movements shown to M. Blanchard—Mr. Nathan gave me these three invoices of M. Blanchard, the prisoner was not present except on the first occasion—they are in
Nathan's writing and signed Blumberg & Co.—I always paid Nathan, he received it sometimes from me and sometimes from the man—I did not sec anybody sign the receipt—I know this to be Nathan's writing—I gave him the money to give to Blumberg & Co., I sent it by Nathan to the prisoner—on the first occasion the boy brought it, and Nathan and the prisoner were outside.
COURT. Is it true that the prisoner handed you an original invoice of Blanchard's? A. No; I received it from Nathan—the prisoner said that it came from Paris, but the conversation was to Nathan; I understand a little French, and I said to Nathan "Tell me what he said," and he did—I saw the prisoner several times afterwards, and said that the goods were much too dear, and he said that the executor said that he was to take the price I offered.
HYPOLITE MAHI . I am a debt collector of 130, Gloucester Road, Regent's Park—about the end of March, 1873, I had this bill (this was dated 8th March, 1873, for 404 francs in favour of Messrs. Blumberg & Co., 3, Grafton, Street. Signed, Andre Berot. Accepted, N Blumberg & Co.)—I went to 3, Grafton Street and presented it to the prisoner, who I had known for fifteen years by the name of Brunneau—I first went by myself, and he said in French "We cannot pay you"—I pressed him, and said "What nonsense, I have known the house of Brumberg twenty-one years"—he said "Well, when Bouvier comes back from London we will pay you," but I knew that that was a lie—I knew who Bouvier was, I then knew them all—I have never known the prisoner as a dealer in clocks—I did not go there again, as I knew it was of no use; but I went on a second occasion with two detectives because I knew his character—I afterwards gave him a sort of thrashing when I met him in the street, because I knew that the poor man had been robbed of 16l.
Prisoner. Q. Are you sure you mentioned the name of Bouvier; did not you say Blumberg? A. No, I am not mistaken; first of all you spoke about Blumberg and I said "I know he is Bouvier."
Prisoner. I don't know the name of Bouvier at all.
ANN FARRAR . I am the wife of William Farrar of 6, Lambeth Square—I know the prisoner—ho came to my house with Mr. Godin to take lodgings at the end of March, 1873—Godin took the front parlour furnished at 6s. a week, and the prisoner afterwards came there to see him constantly—the prisoner spoke English—Godin loft at the end of October or the beginning of November—there was no workshop or workmen—I saw several clocks in the room, I saw them brought there in cabs and taken away—when the prisoner was there with Godin they spoke French—Godin was tall and high-shouldered, and about forty years old.
Prisoner. Q. Who brought the clocks there? A. The van belonging to the railway company; they were not brought to you but to M. Godin.
Re-examined. I saw no clocks brought in singly—Godin slept in the room.
ELEANOR STRATFORD . I am the wife of Thomas Stratford of 10, Belvedere Crescent, Lambeth—I knew the prisoner from March to August, 1873—he spoke good English; another man came with him who only spoke French and who acted as interpreter—the other man took my front kitchen at 3s. 6d. a week and gave mo a card, in consequence of which I went to 3, Grafton Street, where I saw the man who was afterwards my lodger, and I inferred from the card that his name was Blumberg—the prisoner did not
tell me his name, he did not pretend to engage the room himself—the room was hired as a workshop, but used as a warehouse—no workmen were there—the prisoner came to see the man, but I never heard him address him as Blumberg—when he had been there about a month my lodger asked me for a rent-book, and gave me his name as Roberts; I questioned the prisoner about it, as I thought my lodger's name was Blumberg, and he said that Messrs. Blumberg & Co. were at Grafton Street, and that Mr. Blumberg was another gentleman and not my lodger—Roberts was about 5 feet 6 inches high, rather high-shouldered, pale-faced, and he had hair down here—he was about thirty-three or thirty-six years old, I don't think he was forty—his hair was rather dark—I saw a great many clocks brought to my place, they always came in private vans, never by Parcels' Delivery; some of them were taken away daily, hundreds or more have been there at a time—I certainly did buy one of Mr. Roberts, he was leaving and had not paid his rent, he owed me 1l. 9s.; I allowed him 3l. for the clock and paid him the difference—it had a black case with ornaments—the prisoner was never present when any transaction about clocks took place—this paper (produced) bears my lodger's signature, but it was not signed in my presence—the prisoner was present once or twice when clocks came, and assisted to unpack them.
Prisoner. Q. Who took the clocks away? A. My lodger always.
HENRY DANGERFIELD . I am manager to Mr. Brown, a pawnbroker of Ryder's Court, Leicester Square—eleven clock movements were pawned with me, not by the prisoner, but by a man who gave the name of Godin—there were seven on 10th February and four on 9th February, 1874—he signed the book in my presence, but I see no similarity to his writing in this paper (produced).
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I wish to have two witnesses to prove that I was only the servant of M. Godin."
Prisoner's Defence. I was only in the service of M. Godin all the while at 18s. a week. The witnesses I called before Mr. Knox gave their evidence—Charles Terrano and Emma Chamberlain. I do not know whether they are here. (The witnesses did not appear).
WILLIAM LOW (re-examined). My room was taken for the prisoner, who I understood to be Larry and Co.—the other man paid the money, and the prisoner received the letters—the room was never used at all—they promised to furnish it, but did not—it was only used for the receipt of letters—the prisoner never paid the rent—no goods were received there in his time.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with a previous conviction at Westminster in April 1855, in the name of Auguste Roland, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Two Years' Imprisonment.
GEORGE KERRIDGE (Policeman II 156). On 27th February, about 12.10 at night I saw a drunken man in the street in St. George's-in-the-East—I saw the prisoner strike him a violent blow on side of his head and snatch at his watch—he then saw me and ran off—I was on the opposite side of the way 6 or 8 yards off standing in shadow—I was able to see him
clearly, and am quite sure he is the man—I saw him again the morning afterwards at the Police Station with three or four others, some shorter and some taller, in different dresses and picked him out.
Cross-examined. It was on a Friday—I have no idea where the drunken man went to—I followed the prisoner 600 or 800 yards—I knew him by sight—his face was very familiar to me—I did know his name or where he lived.
HENRY JACOBS . I live at 2, Ell Street, St. George's-in-the-East—on 27th February, at 12.20—I was returning home, heard a cry of "stop thief," and saw the prisoner running—I pursued him, and when he found that he began to walk—I went behind him and caught him by the collar—he said "Let me go"—I said "I shan't"—he threw himself down and kicked me in the jaw, and about the body and on my knee—there was a crowd round him, and he said to them "For God's sake get me away"—they rescued him and he got away and ran—I went after him and gave him in custody.
Cross-examined. I had never seen him before.
Witness for the Defence.
MARY MARNEY . The prisoner is my son and lives with me in Salter's Court, Blue Anchor Yard, Royal Mint Street—on this Friday night he was in bed before my clock struck eleven—I went to bed at 12 o'clock—we have only got one room—I saw him in bed, and he never left the room till he got up between 7 and 8 o'clock next morning and went to work—he was in bed at my place at 12.10.
Cross-examined. My house is a tidy bit "from Ell Street—I remember the clock striking eleven, and I have a reason for it—my clock struck eleven and the prisoner was in bed, and the town clock went after my clock; and I said my clock is only five minutes fast—the prosecutor says that my son wore different clothes to what he did—I heard of his being taken on Saturday night—I went before the magistrate afterwards, and spoke to him there.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, April 9th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and AUSTIN METCALFE conducted the Prosecution. Betsy Rathbone. I am barmaid at the Grapes public-house, Red Lion Street, Holborn—on Saturday, 21st March, between 10 and 11 p.m., the prisoner came in for 3d. worth of brandy—he gave me half-a-sovereign in
payment—I gave him the change and he left—I put the half-sovereign in a glass salt-cellar on a shelf—there was no other there—about an hour afterwards he came in again for 3d. worth of brandy and gave me another half-sovereign—I showed it to Mrs. Walters, and she tried it, and found it was bad—I then looked at the one I had put in the salt-cellar and found that was bad—they were given to the constable.
ANN WALTERS . I am the landlady of the Grapes—on 21st March, Saturday night, the prisoner was in the bar—the last witness gave me two half-sovereigns—I bit one in half—I did not bend the other one—I gave the prisoner into custody, and gave the coins to the constable.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he picked up a sovereign in Red Lion Street, and went into a public-house to change it, and somebody standing in front of lie bar gave him the two half-sovereigns for it. Guilty.— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COLERIDGE for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and AUSTIN METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
ENLAKE MCNAIR . I keep a chandler's shop at 45, Berwick Street—on 18th March, a little girl came into my shop and asked for a quarter of a pound of butter which was 4d.—she gave me a bad shilling—I sent for a constable and she was detained until he came—I gave him the shilling.
GEORGE DAY (Police Sergeant C 19). I was called to 45, Berwick Street, and found the child there—Mrs. McNair gave me a bad shilling, and in consequence of what was said I went to a direction that was given—I left the girl in the shop—I met Dawson in Portland Street, and he accompanied me to No. 3, Portland Street—we went to the first floor and saw the two prisoner's there in the front room—I asked Williamson where the little girl was—he said she had gone out to a shop—I asked him if he had been at work that day—he said "No"—I asked where he had been to—he said to Debenham and Storr's Auction Rooms, and purchased a small time-piece which he pointed to in the room—I said "I am going to search you, what money have you got about you"—he took this bag from his trouser's pocket and produced 2d., and said "That is all the money I have got about me"—I said "Do you know that your little girl tendered a counterfeit shilling at the chandler's shop, and do you know that she tendered one at the same shop on Monday"—he said "No"—at that time the female prisoner got up from the chair and walked to the fireplace, took the tea kettle off the fire with her left-hand and threw something into the fire with her right—I saw Dawson rake the fire out—I then searched Williamson—I found in his left
hand trouser's pocket 6 1/4 d. good money, and in his right-hand waistcoat pocket two counterfeit florins folded in two pieces of newspaper—he said he had received one from a Mr. Petergill, and the other from Mr. Ringwell—I said "They are each folded in separate pieces of paper"—he said "I always carry ray money like that"—I told him I should have to convey him to the station—he went to the door and took the overcoat from the door—I found five counterfeit shillings in the ticket pocket—he said he had received them in change for half-a-sovereign that day—Dawson found 140 pawnbroker's duplicates and a gold watch with the bow broken—the woman said she had given the little girl the shilling to go and fetch the butter at the shop—in the waiting-room at Marlborough Street, on the 19th, I said to her "Mrs. Williamson, I should like to know when and where you were married"—she said "To tell you the truth, Sir, I am not married at all"—she said her name was Winifred Richmond, and she was a widow.
Cross-examined. I asked the little girl where she lived, and she said she lived with her mother and father in Portland Street, and the woman lives there as the man's wife—all that was raked out of the fire was four halfpence.
— GUILTY .— Twelve, Months' Imprisonment each.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM HENRY COLE . I keep the St. Bartholomew public-house, West Smithfield—on the afternoon of 12th March, between 1 and 2 o'clock, the two prisoners came in—Haywell first and the other directly after—he nodded to Haywell, and Haywell called for a glass of stout and bitter, and tendered a florin in payment—the barman found it was bad—I broke it in two pieces afterwards—the prisoner got the change and went out—I did not tell him it was bad—Williamson called for a glass of stout and bitter, and tendered a florin—I found it was bad immediately—constable Butcher came in, and I gave Williamson into custody—after Haywell had gone out, my barman gave me another bad florin which be took from the money board—I marked one of the florins and Carter the other, and they were given to the Sergeant at the station—about three weeks before that Haywell had been into the house with another man, who had asked for two glasses of stout and mild and tendered a bad florin, which I broke and gave back to him, and he paid with a good one.
ALFRED CARTER . I am barman, and I was in the bar when the prisoners came in—Haywell called for a glass of bitter ale, and put down a florin—I gave him 1s. 10d. change, and put the florin on the money board by itself—he drank his ale, took the money up, and went out—Mr. Cole spoke to me before Williamson went out, and showed that the florin I had taken was bad—I went out and found Haywell in Newgate Street, with a woman and a young man—I gave him into custody.
custody in Newgate Street I found a half crown, two florins, 1s. 6d. and 4d. in bronze on him; all good money—I produce a bad florin which I received at the station.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HORNE . I live at 50, Desborough Street, Pimlico—on the night of 6th October, I went to bed about 11 o'clock—I was the last person up; the house was locked up and secured—about 7 o'clock next morning I found the house in confusion—the drawers were broken open, in the dining-room especially, and papers strewed about in all directions—I missed a great coat, a walking stick, a scarf, a cigar case, two purses which contained a small amount of silver, and a watch was taken from my daughter's room—these (produced) are my articles—I found this watch at the pawn shop—the house had been entered from the balcony by breaking a pane of glass in the drawing-room window, and I found the doors open, and the broken glass on the carpet—there were marks along the balcony.
WILLIAM LILLYSTONE (Detective K.) The prisoner was brought to the station on 15th October last, on another charge—I searched him and found this purse and cigar case, and a pawn ticket for a walking stick, pledged on 8th October—he was wearing this scarf round his neck.
SQUIRE WHITE (Detective Sergeant B.) The last witness gave me this pawn ticket, and I went to Messrs. Lloyd's with the prosecutor—he identified the stick—I examined the house on the 8th, and found the window broken, and the house in great confusion—I have received a letter since the prisoner has been in prison—after he was committed for trial he called mo to the cells at the Westminster Police Court and said "It will do you some good, I will tell you where the property is of which I have had anything to do"—he then told me he had pawned the watch of Mr. Horne's at a pawnbroker's, opposite Victoria Station, on the day after the robbery for 2l., or 2l. 10a., in the name of Pearson—he said he had sold the ticket for 5s. to a coffee-house keeper—he also said "It is a good job Miss Home did not see me, she looked very nice—"he made a laugh of it—I afterwards went and found the watch and the ticket as he had stated—ho told me that the coats and the other property that was missing were pledged by the other two at the bottom of the Ranelagh Road, either for 10s., or 15s.
The prisoner in his defence stated that the things were given to him by a shipmate of his, and that he had nothing to do with the burglary. Guilty of receiving. He was also charged with having been before convicted.
JOSEPH SMITH . I produce a certificate of conviction of John Edward White on 9th January, 1871, of burglary, sentence eighteen months—I was in court whom ho was tried, and saw him convicted—the prisoner is the same person—I have not the least doubt about him.
GUILTY **— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
SMITH Pleaded Guilty .— Six Month's Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS CLARK . I am an architect and surveyor, and I have an office at 44, Ludgate Hill—these three paintings (produced) are my property, and I had three others which are not here—I left the office about 5.30 on the night of 26th of March—the pictures were safe on the wall at that time—the next morning I found six pictures missing, and I have only seen three since—they were worth 35l.—the cloth in which these three are wrapped is also mine.
JOSEPH PARNELL LIDSTONE . I am a clerk in the prosecutors employ—on Thursday evening, 26th March, I left the office about 5.45—I locked the door and put the key on the shelf over the door where it was kept.
AGNES DEARLOVE . I live at 19, Brooks Market, Holborn, and I clean Mr. Clark's office—on Friday morning, 27tb March, I went there about 7.45, and found the key in the door—I was in the habit of finding it over the door—there was no one in the office—I missed the pictures from the walls—I had seen them there the day before.
MARY ANN RUFFELL . I manage the Old Catherine Wheel Inn, Bishops-gate Street—I know the two prisoners as customers there—on Thursday evening, 26th March, between 8 and 9 o'clock, Brown came in and asked me whether I would kindly favour him by taking care of some pictures till the morning, and he would fetch them—I knew him by the name of Kemp—ho wished them to be taken particular care of, because he had lent some money on them—I was rather surprised to find six pictures, because I had scarcely room in the bar for them—Smith brought thorn in—these are three of the paintings—they were left that night—the prisoners went away together—they came again the next day, between 2 and 3 o'clock, and brought a cab and took the pictures away.
ALFRED WAKELING (Policeman E 333). On the afternoon of Friday, 27th March, I was called into the shop of Mr. Attenborough, pawnbroker, 72, Strand—I found Brown there, with the manager, who said ho had an officer come from the City in the morning, and let him know about some paintings which had been stolen—these three pictures were there—the manager said "This man has brought these three pictures, so I sent for you"—the prisoner said nothing—I took him and the pictures to Bow Street, and from there to Fleet Street, where I searched him, and found in bronze—he refused to give his name and address—the pictures were tied up in the cloth.
Cross-examined by Brown. I did not notice a four-wheeled cab outside Attenborough's—I apprehended you about 3.30.
Brown, in his defence, stated that he and Smith lodged together at the same house, and Smith told him that he had had some pictures sent up from the country, and did not know where to put them for the night, and that he (Brown) asked lie barmaid at the Catherine Wheel to a low them to be put in the bar, which she did; that Smith asked him the next morning to go with him to dispose of the pictures, and he then went into Attenborough's with three of the pictures, leaving Smith outside in a cab with the other three; that when the constable came in, Smith and the cab disappeared; and that he did not know the pictures had been stolen, but believed Smith's story, that they had been sent up to him to dispose of. He also stated that he wished to call Detective Hawkins as a witness.
DAVID HAWKINS (City Detective Officer). On Saturday, 27th March, you sent for me to see you at the cell; you then told me that you did not steal the pictures, but you would give me information about the man who did—you told me I should know him by having a finger-stall on, and he was living at 31 and 32, New Street, Bishopsgate—I went there and made inquiries—Smith was not within at that time—I watched the place for half-an-hour, and saw him in New Street, and took him.
Cross-examined. It was the morning of Saturday I saw Brown in the cell—he was taken on Friday—he had been in the cell ten hours—he refused his name until he got to Guildhall.
Re-examined. The first opportunity you had you told me what you did.
BROWN— NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAM HUMPHRYS . I am a fishmonger, and live at 6, Old Pie Street, Westminster—on Christmas night I was at Mr. Ward's lodging-house between 9 and 10 o'clock—the prisoner and his wife were having supper in the room where I was—they were quarrelling—I turned round, and said to the prisoner, "Don't hit her!"—I thought he was going to hit her—the prisoner leaned over, and put a knife straight in the middle of my head—I was taken to the hospital, where I remained till 20th January—I did not see the prisoner again until the morning of 24th March—he saw me, and ran away; a policeman stopped him, and I gave him in charge.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not strike you a blow, or shake my fist at you; I put my hand out, and said "Don't hit her"—I did not see anyone strike you afterwards—I was sober.
CHARLOTTE ELLIS . I am single—on the night of 25th December I was at the lodging-house in the room where this occurred—the prisoner and his wife were having supper at a large table—the prosecutor knelt on the form, and leaned over the table, and put his fist in the prisoner's face—I could not say whether he hit him—the prisoner rose up; he was eating his supper, and had the knife in his hand—he made a blow at the prosecutor, and struck him on the head.
JOHN DAVIS . On 25th December I was house surgeon at Westminster Hospital—the prosecutor was brought there that evening between 9 and 10 o'clock, suffering from a scalp wound about an inch and a quarter long in the middle line of the scalp—it was bleeding considerably—it was a clean cut down to the bone, and must have been inflicted by such an instrument as a knife—he remained in the hospital until the 20th January—he had an epileptic fit during the night of 3rd January, and the following morning I found appearance of erysipelas—he suffered from erysipelas for about nine days—the wound in itself was not particularly dangerous.
Prisoners Defence. I was in a passion at the time. It was not done wilfully.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. —Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the provocation he received, and being a foreigner.— Four Month's imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Friday, April 10th, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LANGFORD the Defence.
ERNEST WALKER . I am assistant to Mr. Hammond, a pawnbroker of 299, Edgware Road—on 5th of March the prisoner offered me this diamond and gold pin to pawn—I was not satisfied, detained it, and gave information to the police.
Cross-examined. I know what a gipsy pin is.
CHARLES WANDSFORD . I am a Lieutenant in the Grenadier Guards stationed at the Tower—this is my pin, it is worth 25l—I have not seen it since I left the Tower on 16th January—I missed it about the beginning of March—I had then moved to a house in Dover Street—the prisoner was a private in the guards and acted as my servant up to 7th February—he had access to the pin.
Cross-examined. I left the Tower on 16th January and went to Ireland, and the prisoner went with me but returned afterwards—I may have seen the pin in Ireland but I don't recollect it—I came back from Ireland and went to an hotel in Dover Street—I don't know exactly when the pin was lost—it was fixed in a cravat like this which I have on, not tied but made up—I do not put it in night and morning, I leave it there—it had been stuck there more than a month—I have not the least idea how I lost it—I am not very careful in taking off my cravat at night, and very often put it on the mantel-piece—it may have fallen from the mantel-piece into the grate—the prisoner was only with me from 10th January to 7th. February—when I heard from the pawnbroker the prisoner was brought before Colonel Alexander and I was told that he would be handed over to the civil authorities—he might have come to Dover Street to speak to me, but I don't think he had an opportunity of speaking to me at the Tower.
JAMES SMITH (Detective Officer X). On 10th March I went to the Tower and told the prisoner he would be be charged with stealing a diamond pin, the property of Mr. Wandsford of the Grenadier Guards—he said "I did pawn the pin at a pawnbrokers in Edgware Road, near the middle of the road, but I intended to return the pin to Mr. Wandsford."
GUILTY .—He received a good character.— Two Months' Imprisonment.
MR BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
ERRICK SINCLAIR . I am a clerk in the office of the Porterlake New Hamburgh Company—I have been connected with the company two years—I have got the books here—fifty 7l. per cent, preference shares were allotted to the prisoner originally, and in the year 1843, and forty-five ordinary shares were transferred to him by Messrs. Watson & Smith on 3rd April, 1871—the allotment was on 31st March, 1871—I have got the original transfer dated 21st April, 1871, from Milhardo to Bailee of two preference shares numbered 301 and 302—I also produce a transfer by the prisoner to Gertrude Milhardo, of 32, Gloucester Crescent, of forty-two 7l. per cent, preference shares and forty-one ordinary shares—I know the prisoner's writing, this transfer is signed by him—I produce also four dividend warrants on the shares subsequent to their transfer to Gertrude Milhardo, and in her favour he name of "Alfred Milhardo" was put in before the transfer was actually received, and it was scratched out and "Gertrude Milhardo" was put in—he dates of the warrants are June, 1872, September, 1872, and June, 1873, or 32l. 8s. 1d. each—there is also one in June, 1873, for Alfred Milhardo—have not got the two warrants for December with me nor the dividend
book—the dividend for December, 1873, is not issued yet—I have here two transfers dated 1st December, 1873, from Gertrude Milbardo to Mr. Hug-gins of the Stock Exchange, one is for eight 7l. per cent, shares, consideration money 140l., and the other for two ordinary shares transferred to Mr. Cumming of the Stock Exchange, consideration money 20l.—the prisoner has continued to be the registered proprietor of one preference share only.
Cross-examined. No dividend has been paid on any of the ordinary shares—I do not know the value of the preference shares in May, 1872, but I believe they have risen gradually up to the present time.
JOHN WETSON . I was concerned with Mr. Smith as contractors for the railway, and for services rendered I transferred to the prisoner forty-five shares in the Company—the 7l. per cent, preference shares were at par, or a little under at that time, and the ordinary shares were of value but were not quoted in the market; they were not on the Stock Exchange list and could only be sold privately—I don't know of any sales taking place.
Cross-examined. The prisoner rightly or wrongly made a claim about two years ago against me from Watson & Smith for many thousands of pounds, it has been referred to Mr. Horatio Lloyd and is pending before him—it is I think waiting for evidence from Brazil.
WALTER FREDERICK STOKES . I am a solicitor, of 40, Chancery Lane—Mary Elizabeth Stokes is my sister—in January 1872 I sued the defendant for a debt due to my sister—he was then living in Richmond Road, Bays-water—an appearance was put in to the writ, and Mr. Alfred Watson was the attorney acting for the prisoner—I produce the judgment dated 26th February, 1872, for 35l. 3d. 3d. debt, and 8l. 3s. 8d. costs—I also produce a letter from Mr. Watson—(This was dated 29th February, 1872, and stated that the defendant had no means of paying the debt or costs, and asked for time that an arrangement might be made which was the only way in which the plaintiff could get anything)—I went to Richmond Road in March, 1872, a few days after the judgment, and the defendant had left—in consequence of something I heard I went to 2, Chichester Road, Maida Vale, within a day or two, and the defendant had been there but had left—I do not know where he was between February 1872, and March 1873—he made no communication to me—in March 1873 I found him at 138, Finborough Road, West Brompton, upon which I took out a summons before a Judge at Chambers on the Judgment—I saw Milhardo on the subject before the return of the summons—Mr. Henry Phillips, who was then acting as his solicitor, asked me a day or two before March 27, 1873, if my client was willing to entertain the proposal he had made for settling the matter—I said "Well, you have said that the furniture in the house at Finborough Road, belongs to Gertrude Milhardo, the daughter, and that if my client takes her collateral security she will get her money"—to that, both the prisoner, who was present, and Mr. Phillips assented, and we then had a discussion as to how the amount was to be cut up—that resulted in a consent order—this is it "I do order the judgment debtor to pay the judgment creditor 47l. 6s. 8d., in four instalments of 11l. 6s. 8d. each"—I also received this promissory note (produced), from Gertrude Milhardo as collateral security—the first instalment was due on 10th July, 1873, which was paid—the costs at the time of drawing up that order were 12l. with interest—the second instalment was not paid, and I wrote to Finborougb Road—I had leave to substitute service and serve a writ on Miss Gertrude Milhardo—there was no defence to the action against Gertrude, and I got
judgment, and levied execution on the furniture at Finborough Road, but got no proceeds, because a claim was made to the furniture by Mrs. Milhardo, the mother, the prisoner's wife—when I was told in March, 1873, that the furniture was Gertrude's, I believed the statement, and that was the only reason I had for taking the security—on 17th January, 1874, an interpleader action was tried before Mr. Justice Brett, Mrs. Milhardo was the plaintiff. (The Court considered that this had nothing to do with the case)—a few days after judgment had been signed against the debtor Mrs. Milhardo came to my office with some papers which she said were shares, but I did not have them in my hands until the trial—I knew nothing about details of the shares or the Company in which they were—the prisoner was present at the trial, and Gertrude Milhardo was called as a witness for her mother—as soon as I found out what the particulars were I applied at Hammersmith for a summons against the prisoner for this offence.
Cross-examined. I have been acting in my sister's interest throughout—I knew that imprisonment no longer exists in the superior Courts and that I could obtain a judgment summons in the County Court—the expense to my sister would have been quite as much in the County Court—when I found that the prisoner had come to terms with my sister I took his daughter's promissory note—when I found that the second instalment was not paid I obtained an order for substituted service on the ground that the young lady was evading service, and it was either after the order or the day after the judgment that the mother came down to me—she did not offer me some of these very shares until the dividends were paid in January, but she had in her hand a paper which she said represented some shares—I did not refuse to look at them, I asked to look at them—I do not know what they were—her offer was that she should deposit some shares till January, when the dividends were due, out of which she proposed to pay an instalment—I said that sufficient time had elapsed, and refused to wait any longer—I then put the Sheriff in possession of Finborough Road—Mr. Phillips offered me the 35l. 10s. 8d. and 2l. 10s. for the costs of the writ, that was less the costs of the substituted service and the Sheriff's costs—he did not offer to pay the Sheriff before we went into Court—I was willing to accept the debt and costs, and forego the costs of the Interpleader—the whole dispute between us was about 10l.—I did not include the Interpleader costs, and there were the costs of the execution—I offered to take it on account, the judgment was properly signed, and the Master refused to set it aside—I then proceeded on an Interpleader—the mother had made a claim on the furniture—53l. was paid into Court to meet the claim—we tried the Interpleader—the Jury found against us, and there is a rule now pending—the Court has taken time to consult Mr. Justice Brett—they have granted a Rule on a point of law, but decided against us in point of fact—the 53l. is now in Court—it was then that I ascertained, for the first time, from Miss Milhardo, that she was in possession of some property—I did not know it before the Interpleader was tried.
Re-examined. I offered to take the amount on account—the debt was incurred in 1870 and the beginning of 1871—the Master decided that the judgment was good, and that that was not a proper offer.
GERTRUDE MILHARDO . I was on a visit to some relations at 32, Gloucester Crescent at the time of this transfer, May, 1872; but I lived with my father at 2, Chichester Road—these transfers were signed by me—I had received money from the trustees under my mother's marriage settlement,
Mr. Isaac De Costa and Mr. Michael Milhardo; I believe it was in 1872, and I handed it over to my father to pay two debts—it was 262l. in Consols, which sold for 240l. odd—Mr. Michael Milhardo is alive—as to the consideration of 400l. for the transfer of the shares, I had given my father money at different times, and these shares were given to me as security—I was of age in 1871—I gave my father the 240l. in 1872, and also a legacy I had from my grandmother—I am not certain whether it was 100l.; it might have been less or it might have been more—I had it when I was of age, and my father gave me these shares as security to protect my brother and sister, because my father owed my grandmother's estate 1,900l.—I mean my mother's mother—the dividend warrants came to me, and I signed them, and handed over every penny of the dividend to my father—I live with my father and mother—do you suppose I could expect them to keep me, being over twenty-four years of age and able to get my own living? should I expect them to keep me for nothing?—I gave them whatever moneys I received for my support—I have never said anything about that before to-day, because I thought it was understood at the last trial—I was examined twice at the Police Court, and also before Mr. Justice Brett, but I never mentioned this because I believed they knew it—Mr. Lewis said for me that I lived with my father and mother—in December, 1873, I sold part of the preference shares to Mr. Huggins for 140l., and received 100l., and the 40l. went to pay a debt of my father's to Mr. Stokes—I do not know whether I mentioned that at the Police Court—of course I gave the 100l. to my father—my father found the purchaser for me—on 1st December I also sold two ordinary shares to Mr. Cummings, of the Stock Exchange, for 200l.—my father found the purchaser, and I gave him the money.
Cross-examined. This paper, dated 31st May, 1872, is the receipt I gave to the trustees for the money advanced to me—I was only entitled to it at my mother's death, but I received it in her lifetime by her consent, and gave this document to the trustees, who paid me 245l. 3s. 9d.—I recollect my father telling me he wanted the money, but I did not know it until he told me—I signed a promissory note on 10th July, and paid one instalment, 11l. 6s. 8d.—another instalment was due on 10th October, 1873—I was then on a visit to Mrs. Lester in Wales, and was not keeping out of the way by any means—when I came back to town, I found that there had been a judgment against me, and that there was a claim on the furniture in the house—I gave Mr. Phillips 45l. of the proceeds of the shares to pay Mr. Stokes, who refused to take it, and it was afterwards paid into Court for the interpleader—we left Richmond Road about 15th or 16th January, 1872, and went to Chichester Road—we left there on 4th June, and went to Finborough Road—I took that house—I did not go out of town between Chichester Road and Finborough Road; we went straight from one to the other—it was last summer that I was in Wales.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ISAAC GOMEZ DE COSTA . I am a trustee of Mrs. Milhardo—in May, 1872, I believe it was, application was made to me to advance to the daughter some money which would come to her after her mother's death—I required the mother's consent first, and this (produced) is it, and this other document is the daughter's receipt for the money which I advanced—I gave it to Miss Milhardo at my house—I knew at that time that her father was pressed—these (produced) are the Consol notes.
Cross-examined. I was trustee with someone else under a marriage
settlement of 1839—I do not know where the marriage settlement is; I last saw it when Mrs. Milhardo died, the mother—I had it in my possession up to her death, which must have been about 1872—the co-trustee was Mr. Daniel Murray, I believe—I have seen him—Mr. Milhardo engaged to refund the money if he succeeded in this railway, so as to make up the trust money—I was to have the money back by the accumulation of dividends, unless he refunded the amount altogether—there are five children—I had advice from a solicitor before I sold out the trust funds; that was the reason I requested that the trust fund should be made up again by the accumulation of dividends—I have received three dividends on the gross amount.
Re-examined. I only paid the daughter her fifth share, the other four shares remain intact; she has no claim upon them.
HENRY PHILLIPS . I am a solicitor of 3 & 4, King William Street—I have been acting for the prisoner since Mr. Alfred Watson ceased—in the autumn of 1873 his daughter was in Wales when the second instalment became due—I recollect the payment by Mr. De Costa—the two trustees Mr. Michael Milhardo and Mr. De Costa came and consulted me upon it—I received my costs from Mr. Milhardo, they were 5l., and he paid me 4l. which I took—I know that he paid Mr. Tingay, and the witnesses are here to speak for themselves—I recollect going down with the mother to Mr. Stoke's office—she took the three certificates of these very shares with her, and sought to induce him to take them (Mr. Besley objected that this was not evidence, and it was not proceeded with).
Cross-examined. I was the solicitor at the time of the judgment summons in March, 1873, I was then first employed—I never knew anything of it till the judgment summons was brought.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Did Mrs. Milhardo produce the shares? A. She produced the certificate, but Mr. Stokes was told that there was a preference dividend to those shares—he knew what shares they were, and he knew that I was proceeding to recover a large amount from the company at that time—the whole name of the company was perhaps not mentioned in his presence—it was not stated whose shares they were. MR. BESLEY. Q. You knew quite well that there was a judgment debt? A. Yes; I did not know the time at which it was incurred—I did not know at the time of the judgment that the prisoner had got shares worth 940l.—I told Mr. Stokes that the furniture was Miss Gertrude Milhardo's, but not as an inducement to him to take it, and he did not attach any importance to it—I did not say that she was a young lady of property and that the instalments would be met, because I had no means of knowing it of my own knowledge—I was employed by the mother to make the claim on the furniture in November, 1873—in December, 1873, I knew from the prisoner that some shares had been sold at a considerable sacrifice to get the money to pay into Court; 45l. was brought to me to pay into Court, and I paid 8l. of it myself—I did not know then that the remainder was 940l. worth of preference shares—I was present at the trial on January 17th, 1874—no doubt I had seen Miss Gertrude Milhardo before she was examined; I did not take any proof from her—I knew she had made an affidavit in the suit—I never heard her say that she never had 400l. and had no money of her own—I attended at the police-court and sat very near Miss Milhardo when she gave her account—I do not recollect mentioning to her when she came under examination the name of Julia Milhano—I may have suggested that
it was Julia Milhardo who left the property—I have never seen the marriage settlement.
COURT. Q. When you were called upon to advise the trustees you would see it? A. No, they came and asked me what was the most prudent way of letting her have it, and I said that she could have it with the mother's consent.
LEWIS DAVID CUGNY . I am secretary to the Bedford Pantechnicon Company, Tottenham Court Road—on June 1st, 1872, the prisoner paid me for our company 140l. 11s. 6d., and this (produced) is ray signature.
WALTER HALE . This bill of exchange for 124l. 2s. 6d., accepted by Alfred Milhardo, 8th November, 1871, was paid me by him, about that time—we had a judgment against him for that amount; negotiations were going on and 100l. was offered to stay proceedings, which was paid on 1st August, 1872—the negotiations were commenced about June or July.
GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury. Judgment Respited.
MESSRS. STRAIGHT and MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN TAYLOR . I am employed by my brother, George Taylor, at his Photographic establishment in Crown Buildings, Queen Victoria Street—he also has an establishment at Forest Lodge, Forest Hill—up to 19th March, the prisoner was in his employment as chief operator, it was his duty to take photographs at Crown buildings; the negatives were then intensified, and sent to Forest Lodge to be printed—the portraits were mounted and completed there, and returned to Crown buildings to be rolled—the prisoner had access to the room where they were rolled—they then passed into the hands of Miss McDonough, who duty it was to sort them and send them out—we have had repeated complaints of photographs being missed—on 17th March, a lady called and made a complaint—in consequence of that, on 19th March I went to 89, Park Street, Camden Town—I there saw the frames produced, bearing the name of R. Stuart, photographer to the Queen—I recognised all the photographs in those frames, with the exception of four or five; there were nearly 200 altogether exhibited—I went inside, and saw a boy named Bertrand Gidney, who had been in our employment, and had left the Christmas before—he is about 18 years of age, his duty was to assist the prisoner—I saw Mrs. Turnbull as well—it was about 11 o'clock in the morning—I returned about 3 o'clock in the afternoon and spoke to my brother, he sent for the prisoner—I was not present at the interview—I saw him next morning, and told him not to resume his duties until he saw my brother—he laughed and said it was quite a mistake to suppose that he had anything to do with the business, that the business was Gidneys, he had got a very nice place and was likely to do well—I told him that Mrs. Turnbull was there; he said that was a mistake, Mrs. Turnbull was then in Rochdale—he left our employment that morning—I know his handwriting—my brother communicated with Mr. Cox the attorney, and this letter was written by Mr. Cox to the prisoner, and on the other side is an answer from the prisoner, addressed from Vauxhall Bridge Road—(Letters read—from Mr. Cox to lie prisoner. "20th March, 1874. Sir, I have been consulted by Messrs. A, and G. Taylor, of Crown 1875. Buildings, Queen Victoria Street, with reference to a number of pictures at 1876. the house 89, Park Street, which belong to my clients, and, as they have
reason to believe that you are identical with the person named Stuart, in which name the premises of Park Street is carried on, they request you to give me before 12 o'clock on Monday, a satisfactory explanation upon the subject, and failing the same, my clients instruct me to say that they will immediately take such course as they may be advised.")—(From the prisoner to Mr. Cox: "Sir; I have just received yours from my tenant, I beg to say in reply that your client is both a liar and a fool, which I trust you will duly record to him, adding at the same time that he would be employing himself much more laudably by purchasing some yellow soap, and having a few gallons of clean water, and so thoroughly cleansing himself, thus removing a stinking nuisance to everyone who comes near him.")—After that letter I obtained a warrant for the prisoner's apprehension, and with my brother, Sergeant Bull, and Detective Outram, went to Park Street on 25th March—Outram went in and came out with the prisoner looking at the photographs and then we all four went in—we went into the first floor front room—I saw chemicals and photographs there (produced)—they are taken from negatives belonging to my brother—the cards bear his name at the back, but I am referring more to the enlarged ones, there is no name on them; the greater part of the small ones have our firm's name at the back—I saw thirty or forty negatives that were our property; there were one or two without our number, but I knew them all as negatives taken by the prisoner—I think there are one or two duplicates—the prisoner had no right to take those—all the others bear the stock number, and one or two have got the printer's mark in pencil; that shows the number printed off—we had a boy named Andrews in our employ as carrier, it was his duty to take things to and from Forest Lodge to Crown Buildings—Thomas Andrews, his brother, took his place for a short time.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw Mrs. Turnbull at Park Street—I had seen her once before on our stairs, and you introduced me to her—I will swear I saw her at Park Street.
Re-examined. I saw her at the Mansion House, and have seen her repeatedly—I believe her to be the same person—she stepped forward at the Mansion House, at the chief clerk's request for Mr. Cook's man to see her in reference to the chemicals, whether he had seen her at their warehouse.
GEORGE TAYLOR . I am the prosecutor—on 19th March, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon my brother made a communication to me—I sent for the prisoner and asked if he knew anything about this place at Park Street, Camden Town; he said "No"—I accused him of being the person carrying on that business—he denied it—I afterwards went with my brother and the two detectives to Park Street, and saw my property there which is produced and many other things—I saw some pure spirit, it is the same I use, some part of the label had been scratched off—Mr. Cook, of Hoxton, supplies us with it—I saw some cyanide of potassium—Mr. Cook also supplies us with that, we had only two bottles of it of that size in stock at the time I believe, it contains 2lbs.—there is one bottle here and I produce the other from Forest Lodge—I saw some nitrate of silver which I left there—it was similar to what I use—I recognised the bottle as mine—it was a small stout bottle and contained about 8oz. of silver, worth about 30s. or 35s.—a few days before the prisoner left my employment I sent the boy James for some nitrate of silver to Cox of Ludgate Hill—he brought back one bottle of 7oz., and one of 5oz.—I handed the 7oz. bottle to the prisoner—I missed some of it—we were always missing silver—I saw some patent
glass—it was very similar to what I use—I believe there was a gross of it there—it was left behind—it was more than was necessary for carrying on a business of that sort, and not the quality; it was the best we use—the prisoner would use common glass in his business at Park Street—it is very unusual to use patent plate—it would before or five times the price of common glass—the prices charged by him there would not warrant the use of it—I saw some paper, but did not look at it—I recognised an amount of old bottles, dusters and other things, and in fact mostly everything we use—it was a repetition of Crown Buildings, in fact—I saw some negatives which I identified, and all our usual chemicals for carrying on a very large business—about a month ago I saw the boy Andrews hand a bottle to the prisoner—I don't know what was in it—here is an enlargement from a negative that I took myself three or four years ago, and there are others—I never gave the prisoner permission to take any of these chemicals or negatives, or any of the property—I once gave him twelve small cartes, which I found in his house—there are some photographs here of the Albert memorial—those were taken at my establishment, our best pictures—the prisoner had no right to take those.
Cross-examined. The name of Cook, of Hoxton, is on the bottle of cyanide, and it is the form of bottle that we always have it in—if you were to buy 2lbs. of cyanide I don't think you would get it in a bottle like that, you might—it was your duty to take home the negatives and retouch them and bring them back in the morning—if you had a good duplicate negative you would retouch both—we very rarely had the two retouched—just before the photographic exhibition you had twelve negatives to retouch, extra well for exhibition—I told you to select twelve, and no more—we did not print more copies than were ordered—you had no authority to take any of these negatives, they are stock negatives, and ought to be at Forest Hill, at the present time.
LOUEY McDONOUGH . I am employed by Mr. Taylor—it is my duty to send out the photographic pictures—I frequently missed pictures while the prisoner was there—I have complained of it in his presence, under the impression that they were not printed, and that they had not been sent out—some of these produced are what I missed—I can speak to quite half of them.
Gross-examined. They are sent up from Forest Hill, in three's and four's as they are done—prints are often spoiled in the rolling—I have not often received many more than the complement ordered—more of these are spoiled ones.
ALFRED JEFFRIES . I am employed by Mr. Taylor—it is my duty to go out between 12 and 1 o'clock, to fetch the men's dinners—I went to the Golden Fleece, in Queen Street—I know Gidney, I saw him there on 19th March, after he had left—he spoke to me and I afterwards told the prisoner that Gidney was down at the Golden Fleece, and I was to tell him to make haste down and see him, because Mrs. Turnbull wanted him—the prisoner then went out, and when he came back he said "You must not say anything about what Gidney told, but you will hear something by and bye.
Cross-examined. I don't know whether I told you Mrs. Turnbull was there, I will not be certain whether I did or not—I said Gidney wanted to speak to you.
to take things to Forest Lodge and back—I recollect the prisoner giving me a bottle about nine months ago—he asked me to get some gold in it, and I was to keep it to myself—I went and took some out of the stock bottle, put it into this bottle and brought it up to the prisoner next morning—I have done that I should think at least a dozen times—Mr. Taylor got my brother to come and do my work when I was ill—I did not always use the same bottle, I used another, a bigger bottle, I got that from Mr. Jones one of our workmen, because the prisoner forgot to give me the other bottle, then I went and filled that with gold and took it up to him—no one ever saw me do this—I told Pember about it once or twice—I think I gave some gold to my brother once or twice to take up.
Cross-examined. You told me not to let anyone else know it—you asked me several times whether Jones or Pember knew about it—I told Pember that I wanted some for you—my brother only gave me the bottle once.
Re-examined. I think he told me not to tell Mr. Taylor.
THOMAS ANDREWS I did my brothers work for a week—he gave me something in a bottle to take to the prisoner—the prisoner asked me to go for it and gave me the bottle, it was filled, I don't know what with—it was something yellow—I took it to the prisoner—Mr. Taylor was there and saw me, and the prisoner afterwards said I ought not to have given it to him while Mr. Taylor was there.
HENRY CHARLES GREEN . I am assistant operator in the service of Mr. Taylor—we use nitrate of silver in the bath—I thought the silver went very quickly, and when the prisoner was gone I tested the bath and then discovered that instead of 7 ozs. being in the bath there was only 3 1/2 ozs, and some few grains—Mr. Taylor asked me to test it—I knew that one of the boys had been sent out for 7 ozs, and 5 ozs., the 5 ozs. were for Forest Hill and the 7 ozs, for Crown Buildings—I have never seen gold used to intensify the negatives.
Cross-examined. I have been with Mr. Taylor nine or ten weeks—I did not dictate to you how you made up your bath, you could make it up how you liked—I did not come to Mr. Taylor with a lie on my lips—I said I was capable of retouching negatives—you offered to give me lessons, for which I gave you 5s.—I was not experienced in retouching, I could retouch slightly.
CHARLES JAMES . I am a messenger in the service of Mr. Taylor—I recollect his sending me for two packets of nitrate of silver, 7 ozs. in one and 5 ozs. in the other—I gave the 7 ozs. to the prisoner and put the 5 ozs. in Mr. Taylor's bag.
ROBERT HAMMERTON . I am salesman to Mr. John Cook, of 126, Hoxton Old Town, he is a manufacturer of chemicals—we supply Mr. Taylor—I sold him two bottles of cyanide of potassium, these are them, one has a different label to the other—I know them by the mark at the bottom of the bottle—we have not sold any in bottles like these to anyone else in London, not two pounds at a time—it is a poison and we are bound to enter it in a book—I have our book here—there is no entry of the sale of these two bottles to Mr. Taylor, he sends us an order and we send the cyanide—the prisoner is not a customer—he has never been in the shop since I have been there, which is nearly thirteen years—I have no entry of any cyanide supplied to him or anyone in the name of Turnbull or Stewart—I have looked in our books and do not find it—2 ozs. as a rule is generally used across the counter—it is not usual to sell bottles of two pounds unless we know the party—
there must be a witness—I see a bottle of spirit here—it came from us—there was a label on it similar to cure, but it has been scratched off—it is exactly the same size and shape and the same quantity as is entered in our book—the other chemicals are similar to what we have supplied to Mr. Taylor, but everybody supplies those.
Cross-examined. I have never sold cyanide without having the signature of the person since the New Pharmacy Act of four years ago.
JOHN PREEDY . I am mount cutter in Mr. Taylor's service—I have on two or three occasions cut mounts for the prisoner; he asked me to do it—I used Mr. Taylor's card board—the prisoner had no right to it—I had not Mr. Taylor's permission to supply it—the prisoner enlarged a small photograph for me on one occasion; I paid him nothing for it.
Cross-examined. I dare say you did not know what card board I used.
WILLIAM PEMBER . I am chief printer in the prosecutor's service at Forest Hill—I have charge of the negatives—after they are printed from, the boy puts them away under my superintendance—I see three negatives here, two No. 13,455 and 14.259—I missed those from our stock; in the ordinary course of business they ought to be there now—I remember the prisoner coming to Forest Hill to get some negatives for the Photographic Exhibition, that was at the latter end of October, or the commencement of November—we keep a stock bottle of gold solution there, I missed some and mentioned it to Andrews—on one occasion I gave some to Andrews in a small scent bottle, he said the prisoner wanted it—I did not authorize him to take any—I did not give the prisoner permission to take the negatives away.
AMNIO PHILLIPS . I am single, and live at 50, Amersham Street, New Cross—a lady lodged with me in the name of Mrs. Turnbull—the prisoner visited her three or four times a-week, sometimes oftener, I believed him to be her husband—she once offered us five photographs of the Albert Memorial.
ROBERT OUTRAM (City Detective). On 25th March I went with Messrs. Taylor and Sergeant Bull to 95, Park Street, Camden Town—while I was in the passage the prisoner came in—I said "Mr. Stuart"—he said "No, sir"—I said "I merely called about having some photographs taken"—he said "What do you require"—I said "a group, my wife and child, and myself"—he said "Yes, sir"—we were making arrangements when Bull came in—he addressed the prisoner as Mr. Stuart, to which the prisoner said "Yes, sir"—Bull said "I am a detective sergeant"—I said "All right, old fellow, I am one too"—we then went upstairs to the first floor and there found these five enlargements hanging up and the other things produced—the prisoner repeatedly said it was all a mistake—and when Mr. Taylor found these chemicals in the cupboard, he said "I can prove that I purchased these with the business from a Mr. Turner whom I can produce—when Mr. Taylor found these negatives in the cupboard, he said "Now, say they are yours"—Mr. Taylor said "They certainly are"—the prisoner said, "I will prove I got them with the business"—we found these cases at the door with the name of "R. Stuart, photographer to the Queen" on them—at Bow Lane I found this case on the prisoner containing these four photographs with the prisoner's name on them, also a case containing some cards "R. Stuart, photographer to the Queen, 89, Park Street, Camden Town, and 485, Bethnal Green Road"—I went to Bethnal Green Road with Bull and there found the name of "Stuart, photographer."
Cross-examined, I did not say at the Mansion House that, your remark
was "I bought some of the chemicals of Mr. Turner," yon said yon could prove you purchased them from Mr. Turner—you also said you bought the negatives of him—I stated that at the Mansion House.
JOHN MARK BULL (City Detective Sergeant). I was with Outram on this occasion and have heard his evidence—it is correct—at the station the prisoner said "My name is Richard Turnbull, but I know nothing of the name of Stuart."
HARRY CECIL TURNER . I am a photographer, and live at 28, Netley Street, Hampstead Road—I formerly carried on business in Park Street, Caraden Town—I sold that business to the prisoner in the name of Richard Stuart—the three negatives produced were not taken at my place—I did not leave these chemicals there or these large photographs, I see nothing here that was left except these frames; not the pictures that are in them—I had nothing worth calling chemicals to sell; the prisoner told me he could let me have some, anything that I might require—I think that was a day or two after I sold him the business—when 'e called with his wife he offered to sell me collodion at 3s. a lb., the price is 6s. 6d. or thereabouts—I did not buy any—he said he wanted this establishment for his assistant who he was paying weekly, he wanted to employ him in some way or other and he thought if he took this place it would be employing him—he said he was working at Negretti & Zambra's Crystal Palace Studio.
The prisoner in a long address alleged that this was a trumped up charge against him from motives of malice and jealousy, and that he had taken nothing without the prosecutor's knowledge and sanction.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, April 10th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. A. B. KELLY, conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM NEWBOLD (Detective Officer N). About 12.30, on the morning of 2nd March, I saw the prisoners in the Balls Pond Road—I followed them—they stopped at a little jeweller's shop for sometime, and then went on into the Kingsland Road, where they stopped near a tailor's—I followed them into the Englefield Road, and they stopped opposite No. 14—I stopped and watched—I saw the reflection of a light, apparently from a match against the parlour window—they came out of the gate and moved into another gateway—they then walked up and down in front of the house and then went into the garden of No. 14 again—I waited a few minutes to get assistance from the constable on the beat—I saw him and spoke to him, and he stopped with me—at that time they came out of the front garden and crossed the road to where I was standing—I saw them come from the gate, but did not see them come out of the house—I took hold of them and asked what they had been doing in that house over the way—they said they had not been to any house, they were going home—I took them to the station, assisted by the other constable—they were searched, and on Thompson was found a jacket, a pannier, and a dress—on Russell we
found the skirt of a dress, and he was carrying this umbrella in his hand—I went to Englefield Road with N 161, and rang the bell, and from what a gentleman lodger in the house told me, I went to 124, Church Road, Islington, and saw Miss Stockman and Miss Nash, and they went back with me to the house—I examined the parlour window, which was partly open, and found that the catch had been put back by some instrument—I found this knife on Thompson, and a quantity of matches loose in his pocket—he was wearing the ladies' jacket underneath his coat, and Russell had the skirt of the dress bound up in front of him—Miss Nash went with me to the station, and I showed her the property.
Thompson's Defence. He did not see us enter the house or come out—he only took us as substitutes for those he has let go.
THOMPSON also pleaded guilty to having been before convicted in September, 1871.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
RUSSELL— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. F. H. LEWIB and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. COOPER and THORXE COLE the Defence.
ISAAC JOHN HOOPER WILKINS . I am a tobacco broker, at 2, Billiter Street, City—Vann was our duty clerk, and left our service in October last, giving no notice—I searched his drawer afterwards and found amongst a lot of documents these receipt forms, unsigned by the Customs—it was his duty to make them out and pay them in with the money which he received—I also found this slip, which gives the amount of duty payable in the course of the day—all these documents are in the prisoner's handwriting—if he had money for the duties, it would be his duty to take that money with the slip and pay it in to the Treasury, at the Custom House, and the receipt was passed on to another officer of the Custom House, who would then pass the duty.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been in my service about six years—I have nine or ten clerks, mostly young men, about his own age—if he was away from business, Akam would perform his duties—I have no knowledge that Akam kept a shop—I have heard it since—we draw a cheque for the duties on our own bank, the National Provincial, and they draw a cheque on the Bank of England—the Customs will only take Bank of England cheques—and if that transfer cheque is not sufficient to pay the duties, we give an open cheque after—the Customs would take an open cheque, but they would send to the Bank to see if it was cashed—if the prisoner had had several warrants it would be within his power to keep some back, but it was his duty to pay them in—the large transfer cheque is sent down early, and as the duties are received from the docks in batches they are filled up and entered in our books and sent on to the Custom House, and it is either plus or minus to us at the end of the day—if it is minus, we give a small cheque, and if it is plus it is something to our credit for the next day—
Akam would make the entries in Vann's book during his absence or illness—he was a subordinate of Vann's—Akam has been with us seven or eight years.
Re-examined. Vann made out the warrants in the morning—they are printed forms supplied by ourselves—they are taken to the docks where the goods are and are then sent up to the long room of the customs—the money is taken to the treasury, and the receipts are handed to the clerk who has the warrants, so that the two things come together; the initialled warrants from the docks showing the goods, and the slips showing that the Customs have received the money—it was Vann's duty entirely to see after the duties—he had no other duty except to see that the goods were sent home—if he allowed any other clerk to do it he was doing what was not his duty.
WILLIAM MAYNARD AYLWARD . I am cashier to the prosecutors—on 3rd December, 1872, Vann asked me for excess duty to the amount of 10l. 1s. 4d.—I gave him a 10l. note and 11s. 1d. in silver, which it was his duty to pay to the Customs—there is an entry in this book in his own writing as having received it—on 11th December I gave him 11l. 1s. in cash, that is also entered in his own handwriting—I gave him a 10l. note and 1l. 7s. in gold and silver—on 7th January, 1873, 13l. 7s. 10d. in cash at his request, and it is entered in his writing.
Cross-examined. I have been with Mr. Wilkins about nine years—I have given three sums which I say I paid to the prisoner because his figures go to show it and he must have received them—I have paid Akam occasionally in that way when Vann has been absent, but certainly not when he was present, because he was the party to receive the cash—I always handed the amounts to him—I have known Akam perform Vann's duty—I did not know of Akam keeping a tobacco shop—during the time Vann was in the office he was tolerably regular and a good-natured pleasant young fellow—it might have been early or late that I paid these sums to him, it depends upon the number of warrants—they were the small sums to pay up the warrants to the customs—a man had no right to keep one or two warrants back from one day to another—a dishonest person might do it—after handing Vann the cash I troubled myself no more about it—we had one or two boys who went to the Custom House generally, bat Vann had charge of that department and I attended to my own duties—I could not tell you who went to the bank with the cheques but Vann had them handed to him.
Re-examined. He was the duty clerk, and it was his duty in the first place to go to the Customs, and if any warrant was paid it would be his duty to take the receipt with the cash on to the Customs.
JAMES GUY . I am one of the principal clerks in the long room at the Custom House—the amounts paid by the prosecutors for duty would be payable in the treasury—the tobacco sheet of the 3rd December contains the items paid by Messrs. Bramble, Wilkins & Co.—there is no entry of any sum of 10l. 1s. 1d. on their behalf—there is no entry on the 11th of the same month of the payment of 11l. 7s. in their favour—nor is there any entry on the 7th January, of the payment of 13l. 7s. 10d.—the receipt for the money paid, is signed by the cashier, and kept in the department—I have searched for six days after each of the dates named, and I have not found the receipts for any of those sums.
Cross-examined. On the 3rd December, Messrs. Bramble & Co. paid in two bank transfers, one for 700l. and one for 320.—and at the end of the
day there was a balance of 67l. 7s. 9d. credited to them—there would be a running account—on 11th December, they paid in two transfers of 500l. and 250l.—there was 3s. 9d. over that day—on 7th January, they commenced with a balance from the previous day and paid in 600l. by a transfer, and 160l. there was no small sum—I can't tell you who brought the cheques—I know most of Akam—J saw him most frequently—he would not bring the transfer cheques to me—he would take them to the cashier in the Treasury, and the cashier forwards the receipt to me—I don't remember seeing anyone else besides Akam—I can't speak as to Vann at all—customers can't take the goods out unless the duties are paid—I know nothing of Akam keeping a shop—I believe that warrants could be kept back for a few days, but I don't know it for a fact.
I. J. H. WILKINS (re called.) If sufficient money is not paid into the Custom House they would not deliver the tobacco, and another transfer cheque would be drawn—if we paid 200l. and only 5l. were wanted they would keep the 195l. to go on till the next day—this thing came to my knowledge from a customer, and I have found since, in the prisoner's drawer, letters which have been suppressed and never came before me; letters directed to the firm.
By MR. COOPER. Vann's drawer was not open to the other clerks in the office—I believe it was locked—I never went to Vanu's house—my attorney went and the father would not allow him to see my attorney, and an appointment was made for him to come the next day, and he never came—I never knew of these sums being missing till recently—I did not tell the prisoner the books were wrong, because the moment I found it out he bolted—I knew where his father was and I sent for him and he came—he said his son would come and give an explanation when necessary, and when he came his father would not allow him to give an explanation and then I made an appointment, on two occasions, and he did not come—he offered to go through the books at any time, but I made two appointments and he did not keep either of them.
By MR. LEWIS. By keeping over the warrants from day to day and covering it by a cheque the next morning, one could go on for a long time without being detected, and if he had been content with taking small sums it might have gone on much longer, but it got to such a large amount that the sum of one day would not cover it, and then it was discovered—I did not break open the desk—the lock was picked by a locksmith.
The Prisoner received an excellent character. NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner.
(See page 398.)
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, April 10th,
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
WILLIAM GEORGE KITE . I keep the Redcross public-house, in the Barbican—on Thursday, April 2nd, about 3.30 in the afternoon, the prisoner came into my house, and I served her with half a pint of beer—she remained there about ten minutes drinking—whilst she was there I missed a pint pot from the counter—I afterwards shouted to my wife upstairs, and asked her "If she had taken or moved a pint pot off the counter"—she said "No,
she hadn't"—I then saw the pot on a form, beside the prisoner, and I asked I her if she had put it there—she said, "No"—she had a bundle with her, and when I touched it, it rattled, it had pots in it—there were other pots besides her—she tried to unfold the bundle and put the pots out—I found another pot belonging to me amongst them.
CHABLES WATKINS (City Policeman 150). On Thursday, afternoon, April 2nd, I was called to the prosecutor's house, the prisoner was just taking some pint pots out of a bundle she had in her lap—I asked her where she got them from—she said she did not know—she was not tipsy—I told her I should take her to the station—two of the pots belonged to the George and Dragon public-house, and one to a public-house, in Upper Whitecross Street—I also found the frying-pan, which had been stolen, underneath her bed in her room.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS the Defence.
JOHN GETTEN . I live at 13, Cologne Street, Stepney, and I am a dipper, in the employ of Messrs. Bryant and May, lucifer match makers—on Monday evening, the 9th March, about 7 o'clock I left my employment, and seven or eight of us retired to a public-house together, at Bromley—we left there after having been drinking together from 10.30 to 11 o'clock—it was a snowy night, and we began snowballing directly we got out of the house—I went slowly on to the opposite side of the way and I saw prisoner's hat in the middle of the road—deceased struck him, and he said "There, you have assaulted me."
Cross-examined. There would be about twelve or thirteen of us in the house all together—we had drank about two pints and a half of beer a piece—that would make fifteen or sixteen pots amongst us—I never saw the prisoner attempt to strike deceased at all—his hat was knocked into the road, and I afterwards saw his face was bleeding—a man named Dyke, was not with us until after the affair—he was with me—I did not hear him say "He had wrapped a strap round his fist to try and cut the prisoner, and had he got at him he would have killed him."
WILLIAM BECK . I live at 3, White Bear Court, Whitechapel, and am in the employ of Messrs. Bryant and May—Donovan, the deceased, was also in their employ—he was seventeen years of age—when we came out of the Bromley Arms we began snowballing amongst ourselves—while walking away, Donovan passed Weston—I did not see him stick him, but Weston stuck me—Donovan did not strike Weston—Weston was before us, but Donovan passed him—he did not turn round after he had passed him—I afterwards saw Donovan bleeding—I went to the station with Donovan—Weston afterwards came in, in the custody of a policeman—I did not see blood on Weston's face at the station—a crowd was not round Donovan at the time he was stabbed, and the prisoner was wearing his hat when he stabbed Donovan.
Cross-examined. I know a man named Dyke—I do not know whether he was there—I do not know that Getten has been threatened for stating what he did before the magistrates—I have not heard Dyke say that "He strapped a strap round his arm, and that had he struck the prisoner he would have killed him."
WILLIAM MILLS . I live at 5, Green Street, Bethnal Green, and am a labourer—about 10 o'clock, on the night in question, I was with Beck, Donovan, and the others—after we came out of the Bromley Arms, Donovan and Beck ran away from us—when Donovan got up to the prisoner, the prisoner stabbed him in the right breast—I could not exactly see what he stabbed him with, but it was a knife—I ran across the road and tried to get the knife away from him—he made a stab at my throat—I put my hand up and I got it on the hand—I did not see Donovan strike the prisoner—I did not hear him call him any names—I did not see whether prisoner's hat was knocked off—I do not know whether a snowball struck him.
Cross-examined. I did not see blood on Weston's face—I work at Bryant & May's—I did not see Donovan do anything to the prisoner—without any provocation the prisoner took out his knife and stabbed us.
JAMES ROCK . I live at 5, Walter's Court, Bow, and am in the employ of Messrs. Bryant & May—I went into the public-house with them, and we began snowballing when we came out—we were all snowballing together—Beck and Donovan were running away from us, and we were following after them—the gentleman was on the other side walking along, and as they ran towards him I saw the gentleman use a knife and make a blow at Donovan—I never saw Donovan strike Weston—some of the snowballs might have struck Weston, but I cannot say whether they did or not—I did not hear Donovan call him any names—none of us had knocked the prisoner about at all.
Cross-examined. I had a touch of a blow on the eye—I do not know how I got it—I dare say we had a pot of beer each at the public-house—there were about ten or eleven of us—we had not so much as sixteen or seventeen pots of beer—I did not see Beck close with Weston, and wrestle with him—Mills ran at him to take the knife away—I cannot say when I was examined before Mr. Humphrey's, that I swore "That deceased and Beck turned round and closed with Weston and wrestled with him"—I saw Weston after it was over go across to the policemen and speak to them—Donovan's hat was not knocked off—I did not see prisoner struck—I did not hear Donovan say "Take that, that is for you, you sod."
WILLIAM WORLEY . I live at 27, Castle Alley, Whitechapel, and am in the employ of' Messrs. Bryant & May—we were drinking 4d. half-and-half at Bromley—when we came out we began snowballing together, and were running to and fro—Donovan and Beck ran away from us up the street—I ran after them—before I got up to them I saw the prisoner stab Donovan, somewhere about the breast—Beck was behind him, and I saw him stab him—when he had stabbed him, Mills went to make a rush at the knife, and he made a stab at Mills—I did not see Donovan strike Weston nor Weston's hat knocked off—he had his hat on at the time he stabbed Donovan—I cannot say whether a snowball had hit him or not—I went to the station-house—I did not notice blood on Weston's face—I should have seen it if there had been any.
Cross-examined. It happened about twenty yards from me, or it might have been more—the deceased was running past Weston and Weston struck him with a knife—I did not see any provocation given to Weston—there was no hat knocked off—there had been some snowballs thrown in the direction where Weston was before then, but I could not say whether a snowball struck him.
JOSEPH NORMAN . I am in the employ of Messrs. Bryant & May—I was with them at the public-house on the night in question—we began snowballing—afterwards the prisoner came on the left hand side going on the road—Donovan and Beck ran away from us because we were aiming at one another—Weston made a strike at Donovan, and also when Beck ran by, at him—I do not know whether there were snowballs thrown in the direction of Weston, or whether he was struck—it is correct that Donovan did nothing whatever to the prisoner—the prisoner's hat was not knocked off—Donovan did not say "That is you, you sod."
MOSES WILSON (Police Constable K 17). About 11 o'clock on the night of the 9th March the prisoner came to me in the Fairfield Road, and said he had been knocked about by some rough fellows and kicked—I noticed his mouth was bleeding—his lip was cut inside—there was a good deal of blood on his handkerchief—I asked him Who did it V and he said "They were all concerned in it"—I went with him towards the men, and my attention was then called to three of them—they had been cut with a knife, as they said, and they were bleeding—after I saw that I said to Weston "You had better come with me to the station"—there was part of a snowball on the prisoner's hat and blood on his left cheek—I saw ten or a dozen men; I could not say exactly how many there were—I did not notice the men to be anything but sober.
Cross-examined. I know now that Weston is a respectable tradesman in the neighbourhood—the knife was a knife that was used for cutting bags—the prisoner appeared to me when he came to me to have been knocked about—I know Bryant & May's—there are a rough lot about there.
JAMES HOCKING (Police Constable K 30). When the prisoner was brought in to the station-house, I spoke to the last witness about it—I asked the prisoner if he had the knife—he took this knife (a clasp knife produced) out of his pocket—he said "This is the knife that I used"—Donovan came in, and I said "What's the matter my lad"—he said he's stabbed me and fell down towards the fireplace—he was bleeding—he was sent to the hospital, and was kept there three or four hours—the prisoner made a statement to me, and I wrote it down, read it over to him, and he signed it.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HOLLINGS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN MACKINTOSH (Policeman YR 36). On the morning of the 23rd March, I was on duty in Maten Street, Seven Sisters' Road—I heard a dog barking in the street, and I went through some empty houses to the back—I saw a bus being drawn over the garden wall of No. 57, into the street—I was then a distance of two garden walls away—when I got closer I saw the prisoner, and he ran away—I followed him over two or three garden walls and caught him—I asked him "What he was doing there V and he said "I live there"—I said "What is the name of the street," and he said "I do not know what the name of the street is"—I took him down to the garden where the box was, and knocked at the house door—a female put her head out of the window and said her house had been broken into and her things gone—the prisoner told me the things in the box were only a few things he was going to take to his own lodgings—to get into the house he had taken a child's bassinette to stand upon, opened the closet window and forced back the
catch—I produce a knife that I got from the prisoner—the marks on the window frame correspond with the blade—I found also upon him the purse and pocket-book (produced)—there were two coats in the box, a pair of trousers, a waistcoat, and some other articles, all of which have been identified.
REUBEN PUTTOOK . I live at 57, Maten Street, Seven Sisters' Road—I am tenant of the house, and a person named Langleen is a lodger of mine—on the night of the 23rd March we made the house secure and retired to rest about 10.30; next morning I found both the water closet window and door open—I recognise some of the articles produced as mine—the others belong to my lodger.
Prisoner. The box was not in my possession when he took me.
GUILTY . He also pleaded guilty to a previous conviction at Clerkenwell on the 5th August, 1867, in lie name of Thomas Smith, and oilier convictions were proved against him.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, April 11th, 1874.
Before Mr. Justice Brett.
301. GEORGE FRENCH (32) , Feloniously attempting to discharge a pistol, loaded with gunpowder and a stone, at Mary Ann Matthews, with intent to murder. Second Count—with intent to do grievous bodily harm.
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRIFFITHS the Defence.
MARY ANN MATTHEWS . I live at 4, Finch Street, Prick Lane, and am the wife of Thomas Mathews—on the evening of 11th September, I was sitting at my work, when the prisoner walked into the room, caught hold of me by the throat, and said "You b----thing I have got you, and I will do for you," and he fired a pistol at me as I sat in my chair; I could not in my fright tell how he pointed it; he fired at my head, he still had me by the throat with one hand—I dodged my head and screamed, and slipped down—I then got up and struggled with him into the middle of the room, when he fired again—I got away from him and ran down stairs, and fired at me again as I was going down the stairs—he did not hit me—I ran into the front parlour, Mr. Horton, the shoe maker, was there—the prisoner followed me and gave me several kicks and blows, he caught hold of me and threw her down, and then kicked me—he gave me blows on the head and body with a shoe maker's last and a hammer—I became insensible; when I came to my senses I was in the street—I was wounded in my arm and finger, and likewise my head—I was bleeding—I was taken to the hospital—I did not see the prisoner again till he was in custody.
Cross-examined. The prisoner married by daughter—I had not had any quarrel with him that day, I had not seen him since I had him up at Worship Street, two mouths before; that was for attempting his wife's life—the magistrate dismissed that case, he did nothing to him; I did not give evidence, my daughter did—he pretends to be a teetotaller; I do not, nor my daughter—this happened at 7.45 in the evening—I had not been drinking that day, I was hard at work, my husband was at home all day, he is at night work—I believe the pistol is a single barrelled one—this (produced) is the pistol I saw after I came from the hospital—he rushed into the room, rushed up to me at once and put the pistol quite close to my face and fired it—
I saw fire come from it, I saw the flash quite distinctly—I got up, he still having hold of me by the throat with one hand, and struggled into the middle of the room, and he put the pistol close to my head again and fired again; I saw the flash again—and as I was running down stairs he fired a third time, almost directly—our house is in a street, there is a paved yard to the house, no garden—there are no small stones underneath the window of my room, the yard goes into the stable—five persons live in the house; none of them went into the stable yard after the pistol had been fired, they could not get in, it is locked up, partitioned off from the yard: they could not get into the yard where the small stones are, there is a gate to it—there are no small stones in our yard, there are plenty in the street—no one ran into the street after the firing—I was kicked about my legs and body—I was not so much hurt by the kicking, but I was bruised all over—I did not show the doctor the bruises, or say anything about them—I was not long in the hospital, only to have my head dressed.
Re-examined. I had the prisoner up at Arbour Square once, that was for something done to my daughter—he attempted to cut my throat once—I went to Dr. Squires—that is better than twelve months ago—he has been married to my daughter about eighteen months, but she has been parted from him twelve months, and is at service—he got off at Worship Street by his false tongue—he was charged with trying to break into my room to kill his wife, but he did not succeed in breaking in—he had not touched her, but she was in danger of her life.
ELLEN COXFORD . I am the wife of Walter Coxford, a carman, and live in the same house as Mrs. Matthews—on the evening of 11th September, I was sitting in a chair at her side, the prisoner came into the room, took hold of Mrs. Matthews and fired twice in her face—she was sitting at work—he came in and shut the door after him and said "You b----cow, I have got you now and I will do for you"—she got up and he fired twice in her face, nearly at the same time—I did not see any blood—I saw fire and smoke from the pistol—she tussled to the door and he rushed back to me—he found that I was not his wife and he ran down the stairs and fired again—I heard it—I did not go down—I got Mrs. Matthews children in the room—I afterwards went down into Mr. Horton's room and saw the blood, and took her to the hospital—on coming back Maria Matthews found the pistol on the stairs, and gave it to me, and I gave it to the policeman.
Cross-examined. He put the pistol as close as he could to her head and fired twice, the second time almost directly after the first, and as close to her face as it could be, and without loosing her throat—I distinctly heard a third report as he was going down stairs—I did not see the child find the pistol, she said she found it, and she gave it to me—I don't know whether there are any small stones about there, there is a long passage between the street-door and the yard—the prisoner was not in the house when the pistol was given to me—Mrs. Matthews was in Horton's room bleeding when I went down, she was saturated; all her dress—there was a vast quantity of blood, an enormous quantity; floor and all.
By The COURT. I am no relation of her's—I live on the same floor—I am a tailoress—I did not put any stone in the pistol.
FREDERICK GEORGE HORTON . I am a slipper maker, and lived at 4, Finch Street at this time—about 7.45, on the evening of 11th September, I was in my parlour—I heard cries of murder, but that being such a common occurrence in that neighbourhood I took no notice of it—it seemed to me
to come from the street-door at first—I next heard Mrs. Matthews in the passage calling for my protection—I let her into the parlour—I did not hear any reports of a pistol—I had not time to shut the door before the prisoner came to the door with a hatchet or plasterer's hammer in his hand—he is a costermonger—I took the hammer out of his hand—he then took my knife off my seat—I took that away from him—he was trying to get at the woman—I was weak and could not do any more, and I went to the door to get some of the people outside to help me—there was a great crowd outside—Mrs. Coxford and the children up stairs were shouting murder and screaming police all over the place—no one would come to help me and I went into the parlour again—the prisoner was then lying on the prosecutrix in the corner, stooping over her, between my seat and the cupboard—she was crouching down and he was kneeling like in front of her—I could hardly tell whether he was doing anything or not—a mob came in to the assistance—he had one of my lasts in his left hand under her head—I could not exactly say that he was striking her with it—I don't recollect having stated that he was beating her about the head with it—if it is stated there it is quite right—some of the neighbours came and assisted me in getting him off the woman and into the passage—I received a kick in the stomach and was obliged to let go my hold of him, and I recollect nothing afterwards—there was blood running down the woman's neck when she came into my parlour, and when she was in the corner her arm was as if it had been pinched, she was smothered with blood in different places, spots all over—whether it was from her head or not I don't know—there was blood on the floor in the corner, not a great quantity, only drops.
Cross-examined. The blood was coming from the back of her head when she first came into my room; I swear that—I don't think I have been asked that question before to-day—no one has promised to pay me anything if I told any tale—I would not swear that he struck her with the last, or that he did not—the cupboard forms a corner, it comes level with the fireplace—my seat is about a yard from it—I can't say that I saw her fall, I saw her on the ground—I lived there twelve months, and you hear cries of murder three or four times a week in the neighbourhood, I don't say in the house—this was the first time I had heard it in the house, or heard any quarrel there—I comes from a back slum just round there—the prisoner does not live in the house—I know nothing about the lodgers' affairs—they do not get tipsy that I know of.
MARIA MATTHEWS . I am a daughter of Mrs. Matthews, and live at 4, Finch Street—on 11th September I was in the room with my mother—the prisoner came in, went over to my mother, caught her by the throat, and fired the pistol in her face—I called out "Murder!" and ran down stairs into the street, and did not come in again till my mother came back from the hospital—I then found this pistol on the bottom stair—I gave it to Mrs. Coxford.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was not at the house when I found the pistol—I found it on the bottom stair—I had been away from the house about a quarter of an hour—I found Mrs. Coxford there when I came back, and my mother—I don't know whether there are any small stones about there—heard the pistol fired twice in the room; I am quite sure of that; I saw it fired—he was holding my mother by the throat at the time—he put the pistol as close to her face as he could, both times, and it went right off with a bang—I did not notice any blood on her face—I went down stairs before my mother.
CHARLES BROOKS (Policeman H 209). On 11th September I was on reserve at the station—the witness Horton brought the chopper, the last, and this cap to the station—the last had some blood on it—I was ordered by the Inspector to go with him to the house—on the floor of the parlour I saw a quantity of blood, in the centre of the room—it was not in spots, it was in one lot about that size (half a yard)—I did not look in the corner—the prosecutrix had gone to the hospital—Mrs. Coxford handed me this pistol—Mrs. Matthews was then in the room enveloped in bandages; her head and also her arm—T took the pistol to the station; it was loaded—the Inspector examined it—I took this stone out of it—it was not capped; it was on cock—there was powder and wadding in it, but no paper—the stone was at the extremity of the barrel—there was nothing to cover it—I could not say whether it had been recently fired.
Cross-examined. I took the powder out of the pistol—the paper was not taken out at the same time—the stone was so firmly embedded in it, I could not get it out; it was not taken out for two months afterwards; it seemed as if it had been hammered in on the ground—there is some powder in it now, so firmly embedded that it is impossible to get it out—the nipple seems to be stopped up with a kind of sulphur—I unscrewed the barrel and tried to get the powder out, but could not, it was so caked in.
JOHN DUKE (City Policeman SOS ). On 3rd February I took the prisoner in custody on London Bridge—his wife pointed him out to me—he was wheeling a barrow—he saw her speak to me, and left his barrow and ran away—I caught him—his wife came up, and he said "You are b----clever; you were going to have me in a day."
GEORGE DAVID WOODHOUSE . I was surgeon at the London Hospital on 11th September, when the prosecutrix was brought there—I examined her—she was suffering from a small laceration of the scalp at the back of the head, and was bleeding profusely—it was dressed, and I gave her a ticket to attend as an out-patient, but I never saw her again—the wound was about the size of a fourpenny piece or a sixpence; it was an irregular laceration, not quite round—it might have been caused by some blunt instrument—it was just such a wound as one would expect if she had fallen on the back of her head on a macadamized road—it might possibly have been caused by the roughest part of this last.
Cross-examined. It would be more likely to be caused by falling against the corner of a cupboard—I put a compress and bandage on the wound—I have not the slightest remembrance of anything the matter with her arm—I am sure I did nothing to it—I remember no complaint except about the head—I do not think a pistol could be fired within three inches of the face without its being blackened by the powder.
By THE COURT. If it was more than three inches there might be no mark—if anything like this stone had been in the pistol I think it very probable that could have produced the wound—it might penetrate, but I should not expect to find the stone in the wound.
GUILTY on the Second Count — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
o'clock I was in the kitchen with my daughter Fannie, and the baby—the window of the kitchen looks into a yard, in which there are some shops looking into Frides wide Place—there are some leads one story from the ground which command a view of our kitchen window—I was standing by the window when I heard the report of a pistol, and I saw fire from the leads—I ran out of the house with my little ones to get assistance—I did not see anyone on the leads because the gas was alight in the kitchen—as I was running out of the kitchen I heard the noise of glass falling at the passage door, through which a person could get from the leads—I went to my husband who had been in the front parlour, and was then on the cab rank calling murder—we got assistance and went back to the passage-some of my children were left in the house, and I was going back to get them out—the passage was full of police and strangers—I did not see the prisoner—from what we had heard my husband and I had slept in the adjoining house with the family for a week or so—the prisoner has threatened us for the last nine or ten years—it first commenced I think from locking him up—he broke our street door and came in and required money and clothes from his brother—we slept in the adjoining in consequence of the threats when he came out of prison—he was bound over to keep the peace, and he threatened the same again—we had Davis to sleep in the house—my husband is paralized to some extent—after I returned to my children the prisoner was taken into custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not appear at the police-station on the Saturday, because I was very shook and could not appear, and you were remanded for me to go—I remember my husband causing you to be taken to St. Pancras Workhouse, for threatening his life—I frequently answered you at the door and conveyed messages from your brother to you—I don't remember a cabman coming on 7th April, 1861, on Good Friday, and saying that you wished to see your brother—you did send cabmen for that purpose—I can't say whether you saw my husband that day—I never interfered about locking you up at all—I was not present when my husband stated that he had pulled off his coat manfully and given it to you right and left—I don't remember that my mother cohabited with my husband—I don't remember that I was obliged to marry when I was fourteen years of age—when we were married you were not in England.
HENRY KELLY . I am a surveyor and live at 2, Islip Street—on 21st February I was in my front office and heard the report of a pistol—I sat for a moment frightened, and then I heard the smash of glass and the breaking of the sash of the door—I did not hear any voice—I ran out of the front door into the middle of the road where there is a cabstand, and hallooed "Murder!" and the constables and neighbours came to our assistance, and we went into the house—I had not seen the prisoner that night, up to that time—this letter dated 21st February, is in the prisoner's handwriting. (This was addressed to Mr. James Richardson, 14, Little Albany Street. Regent's Park, and stated "What I was bent upon is done—I have been going to tell you several times, but I knew you would try to thwart me and I am bent upon it")—we had removed to an adjoining house because I was apprehensive of death from the prisoner—he is my brother—for ten or twelve years, ever since he came from abroad he has been threatening to have my life when I did not accede to his wishes—I have had him bound over to keep the peace and he has been in prison seven or eight times, and the last time he was sent for twelve months' for beating the warders—he is twenty months younger than me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have never given you in charge for stealing—on 15th January, 1870, when you came out of Coldbath Fields after the expiration of two months, I shook hands with you, and said "Let bygones be bygones"—that was at the request of the Chaplain of the House of Correction—I have no recollection of making you a bankrupt while you were in prison, so that some property which had been stolen should be accounted for—I know Mr. Beaumont—I have purchased goods of him several "times—I offered a reward of 5l. for the apprehension and conviction of the thief who stole a chest of drawers, tables, and sundry kitchen utensils from Frideswide Place—I did not know that you had sold them until the man came and told me he had bought them of you—you were taken out of the St Pancras Workhouse on a warrant, but the warrant was out before you went there—the policeman fetched you from there, but I knew nothing of it—my wife was sixteen when she was married—I swear that to the best of my belief—I don't recollect swearing before Judge Bodkin at the Middlesex Sessions that she was twenty-seven, and we had been married thirteen years—I have no recollection of what you are speaking of—I was a witness at the Middlesex Sessions at the time you smashed all my furniture—Judge Bodkin did not ask me about my wife then and say it was disgraceful—such an observation was never made in my presence—you were bound over to come up for judgement when called upon, when you were tried for the furniture—I never applied that you should be called upon—I never came to the House of Detention and served judgment upon you—I never gave you information on the 7th April, 1871, in the presence of a cabman respecting your property, that was mortgaged to a Mr. Gower; you never had any property, not a sixpence—I never told you that your mother had mortgaged your property for 20l. and that you might do your best or your worst, that we were prepared for you—my father lent 20l. on the Reversionary Interest of two houses which was valueless, and he sold his interest to Mr. Gower for 20l.—I did not on 2nd September, 1872, pull off my coat and strike you twice in the mouth, and kick you on the leg—I pulled off my coat because I had been walking two hours, and the mob was round me, and I thought if I did something I could get you taken from me—the mob assisted me to take off my coat—there were 200 persons opposite a public-house—I did not strike you twice in the mouth on that occasion—I locked you up for annoying me—I did not instruct my solicitor to state to the Magistrate that you had just come out of prison from eighteen months,—the gaoler of the Court did—my daughter is a witness, she is thirteen or fourteen I think—I know there is such a person as Miss Brown at 1, Frideswide Place—my wife went and told her that through your violent and outrageous conduct, you had made an idiot, an imbecile of that child.
WILLIAM HENRY DAVIS . I am a painter, and live at 7, Foster's Grove, Kentish Town—a week or so before this occurrence I had been sleeping in Mr. Kelly's house—on Saturday 21st, about 8 o'clock in the evening, I was at a public-house at the corner of the street, a woman spoke to me, and I went to 2, Islip Street—I rushed upstairs, right up to the prisoner, who was on the drawing room landing, he had a knife in one hand, and a pistol in the other—he was standing up, facing the stairs—this is the knife (produced), it is a butcher's knife and does not shut—I said to him "Kelly, Kelly, you know who it is speaking to you," he said "Yes, b----Bill Davis, the painter, one more step and this will reach your heart"—I went up to him to take hold of him, and he struck me on the right arm—he had
the knife in his right hand, and the pistol in his left—ho was above me on the stairs, and he struck me over the banisters, on the lower part of the upper arm—he then struck me just in front of the collar bone—I was rushing round the corner of the stairs to face him, and then he struck me on the back of the shoulder—I was about three steps down them, and ho struck over from the front, then he struck me on the left arm—got up face to face with him, and he came down one stair and I grabbed the knife with my left hand—I seized him by the wrist, and the knife cut my hand—I seized him by the throat, and we fell down together on the landing, the prisoner under—the policeman then came up to my assistance and struck the prisoner with a poker—I had lost blood, and I don't remember what they did—I went to the station afterwards and was examined by Mr. Rawlings—about a fortnight before that I had seen the prisoner at Mr. Kelly's, the day ho came out of prison, he said "If I ever reach Kentish Town again, I will have a knife in each pocket, and one up my sleeve, and I will murder the whole kit of them."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not hear you sing out for your brother, and tell him that if he would send any one up you would deliver the implements you had—I did not see your brother till I saw him at the station-house—I saw you on the 9th February, when you came out of prison; you were tipsy the same day—I don't know whether your brother applied on the 10th to Mr. D'Eyncourt to have you apprehended—you came to the house that day and I was on guard, watching for you, and I promised to meet you the same evening—you gave me a note, asking your brother to let you have a coat and 5s.—I don't know that your brother sold any furniture belonging to you—I have been working for him about three years—I don't know what he is. I believe he is an auctioneer and house agent—he keeps acorn dealer's shop—that is only for his own horses—he sells birdseed, he keeps a bird seed shop—I never knew him to keep a shoemaker's shop, at 285, High Street, Camden Town—I never knew him to keep a linendraper's shop in Islington, nor in Regent Street—I did not know him to keep a hatter's shop in Oxford Street—I slept in his house one week—he paid me my daily wages—you did not offer to give up the knife and pistol—you dropped the pistol into your left pocket, I believe—I am sure the knife was in your right hand—I was sober.
GEORGE AUSTIN (Policeman YR 30). I was called to 2, Islip Street, about 8 o'clock, I went with 371 Y—I found the back passage door broken open and all the glass and framework smashed—I procured a candle and went upstairs to the second landing—the prisoner pointed the pistol at my head from the bannisters, and said "Another step you are a dead man"—some cabmen and other policemen had followed me up, they ran down stairs, and I stood for a moment—the prisoner said "Another step you will have this through you," still pointing the pistol—I went down to the front door, and while I was there Davis came in—he asked me to allow him to go upstairs, he said he could talk the prisoner over—I allowed him to go up—I got a candle and followed him, and 371 Y, followed me with a poker—the prisoner was then on the bend of the stairs of the first landing—Davis said "Kelly, Kelly, you know who I am," he says, "Yes, and I don't care a b----who you are, if you don't go downstairs I will put this through you"—he made a rush at Davis with the knife in his shoulder—Davis made another step up the stairs, and the prisoner pounced upon him with the knife and struck down over his shoulder—f could not swear how many blows
there were—I saw the first blow over the bannisters—the other policeman struck the prisoner with the poker three times, the last blow took effect and knocked him down—he threw the knife on the stairs, he said "I am done, you will find the pistol in my pocket"—I searched and found the pistol in his right hand trousers pocket, it was loaded and capped, and full-cocked—I also found this large nail, which seems to have been used as a ramrod—I produce a small portion of lead, and also the brick which was taken out; it was three feet six above the window, but that would be below the level of the leads—the wall is twelve feet from the leads.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not hear you ask your mother to send someone up, and you would deliver up the firearms—your brother was in the parlour when I got there, and his wife was in the passage—there are some caps here, which were given to me by the Inspector—I did not hear you offer to deliver up the knife and the pistol—I could not swear which hand you had the knife in; I stood down the stairs; it was impossible for me to say—I did not hear the Inspector make any ill-natured remark when you were brought in; I was out of the room after you were taken in.
WILLIAM LUSCOMBE (Police Inspector Y). I was on duty at the Kentish Town police-station when the prisoner was brought there—he was charged with forcing his way into 2, Islip Street, and attempting to murder Davis; also with firing a pistol, but that charge was not entered at that time—the knife was shown to me, and I remarked that it was rather a formidable weapon—the prisoner said "I intended it to go in here," pointing to the right side of his neck, "but it was too thick"—when the pistol was produced he said "I went down to the canal to try it, and fired it off once to make sure of its going off"—the Regent's Canal is within a mile—the pistol was loaded; I saw the charge withdrawn—there was a bullet first, after that a piece of paper, then powder, then a piece of paper rammed tightly home before the powder—there was also a cap which had not been exploded—the pistol would not have gone off, probably, because there was no powder at the nipple.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Some caps were handed to me by a sergeant—I was told they were handed by you to him—he was not called at the Police Court, and he is not here—I took the name and address of a man who found the knife—he is not here; his evidence was not considered necessary—I did not state that you were a murdering villain, and that if I had been there I should have smashed your skull in; I said a man who would use such a weapon as that was not fit to go about the streets, or something like that—I heard you say you never wished your brother any harm; that you wished he might live fifty years, so that he might become despised and detested by his own children.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said at the Police Court that it was after Sunday that I found it—the children slept on the first floor back—no one slept on the second floor.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I think it was Friday; I am not positive—the pistol was in the window, I think, when you came in first—you bought it one day and paid a deposit, and fetched it away the next—think you
bought it on the Thursday and fetched it away on the Friday—you paid the master the first money.
WILLIAM RAWLINGS . I am a surgeon—I examined Davis at the police-Station on Saturday evening, 21st February—he had half-a-dozen incised wounds in different parts of his arms—there were two on the right arm, one a little lower down on the same arm, one close to the collar-bone on the same side, one at the top of the left shoulder, one on the left arm, and a cut on the left hand—the one on the collar-bone was very slight; the deeper wound was on the left side—they were such wounds as would have been caused by this knife—he had been bleeding very much from the one on the left shoulder; that was the most dangerous.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. He was perfectly sober.
WILLIAM HOWE (Policeman Y 371), (Examined by the Prisoner). I was with your brother—I heard you call out "Henry!" "Henry!"—I did not hear him answer you—I did not hear you say that if he would send one person up, you would deliver up the pistol and knife—I heard you say "Pledge your word of honour, and I will give up the weapons"—then Davis went up first—I followed with the other constable.
The Prisoner, in his Statement before the Magistrate, and also in a long defence, violently attacked the character of his brother, who, he alleged, had defrauded him of some property, and stated that he was prepared to deliver up the weapons on the occasion in question, but was attacked by the witnesses before he had time to do so.
GUILTY on the First Count — Penal Servitude for Life.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
ELITA HILDER . I am the prisoner's wife, and live at 15, Equity Buildings, Somers Town—on 6th April (Easter Monday) my husband went out about 6.30 in the morning, he said he would come in to an early breakfast—we were quite happy and comfortable—he did not come in, and at 12 o'clock I went to look for him, and saw him standing outside a public house with three more persons—he called to me twice and said "Come here, I want you to speak to these people"—I felt very much annoyed and said "You have played me a very nasty trick, why not come home to breakfast?"—I could see that he got cross, he said "Come here and speak to these people"—I said I would rather not, I must go home to my baby for fear she should cry, and I turned round and said "It appears to me that anybody's company is better than mine, when a man has got a good wife he should know how to take care of her," and I walked away and came in doors—I was speaking to my little girl, when the street door was burst open and my husband came in, he tore off his coat, put it on the bed post, tucked up his sleeves, and sparred as if he was going to fight a man—I did not think I was going to be struck, for we had been so happy lately—he said "You b----you have tried to get me out of my work"—I said "No, that would not be to my interest for my children's sake;" and with that I got a blow in the face and was sent up against the wall—I had my baby in my arms—I stood there and said "Alfred, what is the matter 1" then I could see that he was in liquor, and that he had been drinking spirits and spirits do not agree with him—he struck me another blow on the left breast, swearing at me at the time—I gave my baby to the little girl and sent her into the
street that she should not hear the vile language; he then threw me on the bed—I could see that he was working himself into a dreadful fit of passion—he took the bread knife off the table and said "I will murder you, that I will"—I said "Kiss me, will you be calm?"—he got his knee on me, took off my shawl and untied my bonnet, and rubbed his thumb along the edge of the knife and said "This is not the knife for you"—and he pulled out a spring-backed clasp knife out of his pocket—I screamed for mercy—as I saw the knife come down I put up my hand and got the knife in my hand, but I don't think he intended to murder me—I was cut, but he was sober immediately it happened, and he went and got a bowl of water and said it was nothing but a mere scratch, and told me to put my hand in the water—it was a severe cut, but I think he said that because I should not be frightened—he threw the bowl of water out—I tried to calm him and took no notice of the cut—he said "I will see to it for you, it will be all right"—I said "You have got no sticking plaster or strapping in the house" he said "I will get some"—he did not want me to go out—I said "Very well, you go and get some and do it for me"—I was weak with loss of blood—I had only been confined eight weeks with this baby, and my little ruse was to get out into the street and when he went out I ran into the next house and shewed, the people my hand—I went to a doctor and met my husband coming with the sticking plaster and some lint—he seemed very hurt at my being in the street—the doctor refused to bind up my hand unless I gave him half-a-crown, and I could not afford it—we were going home, and as we come along we met the policeman, and he said that he should take him—I did not want to give him into custody—I forgave him for it soon after it was done—I don't believe he-would have done it, but he had had no breakfast and had had some spirits—we have been very happy lately—he had a good situation as a brewer's man—I have been married twice, he is my second husband—I was in service before that as housemaid—we have been married about five years—I have five children, two by my first husband.
Prisoner. After I saw the blood on your hand I kissed you. Witness. Yes; he did—he went out into the yard and sat down there and cried—he seemed sorry—he has ill-treated me before when he has been in liquor—I think he is of a jealous turn and very hasty temper, but when sober he is a very good husband.
DR. HENRY CHARLES ANDREWS, M.D . I was called to the police-station to dress the prosecutrix's wound—it was about two inches in extent, jagged circular wound, between the index finger and thumb of the left-hand, it was a superficial cut, not dangerous unless erysipelas supervened—it was evidently done with a knife—this knife was shown me at the time.
Prisoner's Defence. I can explain how it was. I went out in the morning to clean my horses. I said most likely I should be in to breakfast, but I was not; I very rarely am. I had some letters to take for the firm. I went back to the stable to clean the harness, and stopped to speak to a man and his wife, and another man opposite a public-house. I had had something to drink certainly. My wife came on the other side of the road and sung out to mo. I did not like it; I wanted her to come across and speak to me. She would not and I felt vexed, and we had high words at home. I don't recollect hitting her with my fist. I picked up the knife. I had not the slightest intention of cutting her. I thought of frightening her. Directly I saw the blood I was frightened, and I was very sorry. I hardly know what I did. She is a good woman.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Six Month's Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, April 11th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
304. WALTER VANN (23) , Stealing on 2nd August, an order for 39l. 16s. 7d.; on 23rd August, an order 14l. 10s. 1d., and on 13th October, an order for 9l. 11s. 2d. of Isaac John Hooper Wilkins, and another his masters. (See page 382.)
MESSRS. F. H. LEWIS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS COOPER and THORNE COLE the Defence.
ISAAC JOHN HOOPER WILKINS . I am a tobacco broker—the prisoner was my clerk—it was his duty to make out a duty slip in the morning for the amount of duty required, and to get a cheque from the cashier, take it to the bank and get a transfer cheque, and in the event of more duty being wanted that day, it was his duty to get another cheque from the cashier, and go to the National Provincial Bank and obtain a transfer cheque again unless it was very small when he would cash it and obtain coin, and take it to the Treasury Office of the Customs—the body of this cheque of 2nd August, 1873, for 39l. 16s. 7d. is my cashier's, but the signature is mine—it has come back from my bankers—this cheque of 23rd August, for 14l. 10s. 1d. is in the prisoners writing, he filled it up himself and got it signed—this cheque of 13th October for 9l. 11s. 2d. is signed by me, and is in the cashier's writing—all those have been debited to my account—this cheque "D" is marked for exchange—the endorsement on this 10l. note is in the prisoner's writing, part of it is torn off, and the initials are lost, but "Vann, 13, Finsbury Park, Middlesex," appears clearly in the prisoner's writing.
Cross-examined. I have eight or nine clerks, all about his own age, one of them named Akam pleaded guilty in the other Court yesterday (p. 382.)—I have found out since the prosecution commenced that Akam opened a shop in John Street, in another name without my knowledge—he kept that shop I found, about a month—my cashier generally filled up the cheques—I cannot tell how the money was paid to the Custom House—Vann was sometimes away from illness, and another clerk performed his duties—he was away once for two or three weeks, and Akam did his business in his absence, but that was at a totally different time—all the clerks had a holiday, when there was a bank holiday, from 2 o'clock on Saturday up till the Tuesday morning—it has been admitted that this is Vann's right address on the 10l. note.
Re-examined. Akam has not pleaded guilty to this charge.
WILLIAM MAYNARD AYLWAKD . I am cashier to the prosecutor—on 7th August, 1873, I gave the prisoner a cheque for 39l. 16s. 7d., and the entry in his writing is in this duty-book—I was away on 23rd August, but this cheque for 14l. 10s. 1d. is in his writing, and so is the entry for it—on 13th October I gave him a cheque for 9l. 11s. 2d., and the entry is in his writing—on 13th October I gave him an exchange cheque for 19l. 10s-.
Cross-examined. It was Vann's duty to go to the Custom House, but he would employ somebody else—I have not heard him express a dislike to go there—I knew Vann all the time he was there—I have been there nine years—I have known Akam louger—did not know of his keeping a shop
in John Street—I know that Akam occasionally went to the Custom House, but whether more frequently than Vann I cannot say—everyone in the office knew that I gave the cheques to Vann—other clerks were present and saw it—I am in the open office, not in a shut up bus by myself—Vann spoke out loudly "I want a cheque for so-and-so," and all could hear—he generally called across the office.
Re-examined. It was Akam's duty to go to the Customs if Vann deputed him—Akam was Custom Dock clerk.
ROBERT WALTER DYEBALL . I am a cashier at the National Provident Bank, Bishopsgate Street—Messrs. Bramble & Co. keep an account there—on 2nd August I cashed a cheque for 39l. 16s. 7d.—at this distance of time I cannot say who presented it—I gave in exchange a 20l. note (not traced), and this 10l. note, No. 72,687, dated 8th April, 1873, which has Vann's endorsement on it—I was in the habit of giving transfer cheques for Messrs. Bramble's" cheques—I did not give a transfer cheque for this 39l.
Cross-examined. That was because it was an open cheque—I know two or three of Mr. Wilkinson's clerks, but I do not know who brought that cheque—I know Akam; his is a face I could not miss knowing—I cannot recollect whether he often came there for transfer cheques; I recollect him coming occasionally to cash cheques.
CHARLES SMITH . I am a clerk in the National Provident Bank—these three cheques of 23rd'August, and two of 13th October, were presented to and paid by me—I do not recollect by whom—I paid that of August 23rd in coin—on 13th August these two cheques, C and D, were presented for payment; they amount to 29l. 1s. 2d.; and I gave for them five 5l. notes, numbered 38,351 to 38,355, dated August 1st, 1873, and 4l. 1s. 2d. in coin—these (produced) are them.
Cross-examined. I was in the habit of cashing cheques of that firm occasionally—I have no recollection to whom I paid them—I know Akam, and often saw him there, but he did not often come to get transfer cheques—I am always at the counter.
CHABLES OFFER MEADER . I keep the Royal Oak Tap, Ramsgate—I know the prisoner—on Saturday, 2nd August, I received a telegram from him saying that he would be down with me that afternoon—when he arrived he gave me his watch and 35l. in bank notes to take care of, one of which was a 10l. note—I just looked at the amount, and took them upstairs and put them away—I returned them to him as I received them, on the Monday morning, to the best of my belief—he did not stay with me during that time; I had no lodging for him.
Cross-examined. I have known him many years, and his family have lodged with me—I have had plenty of money put into my hands for travellers—he gave them to me in the evening—I know Akam—he has been there several times—I won't say that he was there on 2nd August; he was there on the Thursday or Friday before this Saturday—I do not know when he arrived or when he left—Vann arrived about 6 o'clock on Saturday—he did not say "I was too late at the Custom House; will you lake charge of them till I go to London? '—I don't recollect on what day he went away, but I gave him back the notes, to the best of my belief, on Monday morning—I know that his family are highly respectable—I have known him twelve years, and he never had but one character, that of an honest, staid young man.
Re-examined, He never left money with me before, but he has left his
portmanteau—this its the first time I have ever been asked whether he said that he was too late for the Custom House—it was a Bank holiday.
GEORGE HILL . I am a licensed victualler, and keep the Belle Vue Tavern, Pegwell Bay—the prisoner was there on Sunday, 3rd, and Monday, 4th August—I changed a 10l. note for him, and requested him to write his name on the back of it—this is it—I paid it into the National Provincial Bank, Ramsgate, on the 5th.
Cross-examined. Akam was with him; I am quite sure of that—I gave the change to the prisoner, but Akam was there at the time—I had seen Vann before, but did not know anything of him.
Re-examined. I think he had been at my house in July.
WILLIAM EDWARD VANN . I am the prisoner's brother—I assist my father, who is an attorney in Worship Street—on 11th October I had a crossed cheque for 19l. 10s., and asked my brother to cash it for me, or to get me an open cheque—he brought me four 5l. notes, and I gave him 10s. change—I kept the notes till 27th November, and then paid three of them to Mr. Baker and the fourth to Somerset House.
Cross-examined. He has changed crossed cheques for me many times before—he has always been staid, and lived at home with his father and mother—he is single—the direction on this note is where his father and mother live.
Re-examined. He did not keep a horse and trap—he had a pony some time ago, which he sold at a profit—he used to go to Kettering, in Northamptonshire, very frequently—he was engaged to a young lady there—he made money by selling cigars on commission, which he bought or manufactured—he did not pay for them at the time—I know that, because I have looked over his papers, and found that he paid 5s. and 10s. at a time—I never asked him how long he has been selling cigars, because I had such faith in his honesty and integrity that I should never doubt him—he has been too confiding in other people, and imagined everybody was as honest as himself—I was very much surprised when I heard of these charges; no one more so—he told me that he had made various appointments to go down to the prosecutor and give an explanation—I heard that he was charged with misappropriating 800l. or 900l.—I know that he left without notice—the prosecutor has never allowed him to give an explanation.
MR. COOPER. Q. Do you know that they captured him when he was on the very way, going to the office? A. Yes.
JAMES GUY . I am principal clerk in the Long Room, Custom House—cheques are paid to my department, but not to me—I did not receive 39l. 16s. 7d. on 2nd August, 1873; and I have searched and find no subsequent entry of it, or 14l. 10s. 1d. on 23rd August, or 9l. 11s. 2d. on 13th October, or subsequently.
Cross-examined. There are nine clerks and a collector—I cannot say who was in the habit of coming down from Mr. Wilkins and paying these duties—the firm pays in large sums daily, and whether these sums were embodied in larger sums I cannot tell.
Re-examined. The other large sums were transfers, Messrs. Bramble paid in 500l., 600l., or 700l. daily—some irregularities were found in their accounts, and a letter was written to the firm but not by me—we received
this answer on 23rd July, 1873. (Read: "Sir, I regret that through illness, I have been unable to see you as yet, but I will do so to-day without fail. Apologising for apparent rudeness, I am, Dear sir, your obedient servant, W. Vann." That was the only letter received in answer to my colleague's letter—my colleague is not here—he said that there was a large amount due to the firm which had not been claimed, and he wrote a letter—we got no reply for about a fortnight, and then went to the firm but only saw Vann—I think he said that it was not convenient for us to see the firm.
MR. COOPER. Q. Was it the custom for the customers to draw out the cigars? A. When the duty was paid—it was necessary to pay the duty every day—as far as we are concerned it would be quite possible for the clerk not to pay in all the warrants, but to keep some back—if he chose to be dishonest and had five warrants on Monday he could pay in four and keep one back till Tuesday, and the Customs would know nothing about it.
L. J. H. WILKINS (re-examined). The prisoner never made me aware of any irregularities at the Customs—he was not authorized to open or accept any letter directed to me—I received no letter from the Custom House—if received it should have been properly endorsed and placed before myself or my partner—the irregularities were to our credit—if an amount was short paid some warrants must have been kept back because they do not give credit, and therefore the last warrant would be kept back because there was not money to meet it, and when a cheque for 500l. or 1000l. was sent down next day that would cover it, and the warrant might be in the prisoner's pocket, so that day by day there might be a small" balance in our favour, but when the small amounts of credit reached a large amount, it got beyond the transfer and then the difficulty occurred—our customers complained most seriously, but they complained to the prisoner, and he might say "I am very sorry, but don't say anything to the governor about it"—I did not say anything to the prisoner about it because I have only heard it since, and I found in the prisoner's drawer a letter complaining of goods not being sent.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's desk was in the common place where all the clerks were, but it was locked with a Chubb's lock, and the keys of the other desks were different.
ALFRED BAKER . I am a dress and shawl pattern designer—on 27th November, I received from the prisoner's brother 29l., there were four 5l. notes, one of which I have paid away at Somerset House for some succession duties—I do not know the numbers—I put no mark on them—I paid the other notes to the London Provident Institution to the estate, No. 53,013.
SAMUEL CARROLL WARREN . I am a clerk in the London Provident Institution—Mr. Baker has an account there conjointly with someone else—and on 29th November, I received three 5l. notes—I do not know the numbers of them, but I identify them by the number of the account to which they were paid, 53,013.
Witness for the Defence.
WALTER AKAM (a prisoner.) I pleaded guilty here yesterday to a similar charge to this—I have been about eight years in Mr. Wilkins's employ—Vann was my fellow clerk—I have been in the habit of going to the Custom House with cheques, and getting cash from the bank for the open cheques—
I was at Rarnsgate for a week, and was there during the hank holiday—I remember Vann coming there—I saw him on the Sunday morning—I went with him to Pegvvell Bay—I changed a 10l. note there with Vann's name on it—he gave me some money, nearly 40l., to pay in on Tuesday morning—he told me he had it on Saturday—I did not pay the rest of the money at the Custom House though I brought it up with me—Vann had not the slightest idea what I was doing when I changed the money—I cannot swear whether I got 14l. 10s. for another cheque, but I frequently had money from Vann to take to the Custom House, and had no time to take it—I cannot remember taking a cheque for 9l. odd on October 13th—it was Vann's habit to pay me over the money—I was supposed generally to go down to the Custom House to settle, and I have on those occasions kept warrants back and appropriated the money, and Vann did not know it—he is entirely innocent of those transactions with which he is charged.
Cross-examined. I mean of those in the indictment—I do not know particularly what they are, excepting the three—I cannot tell you how much money I have stolen—I have no idea, it might be 300l. or 400l.—I cannot tell whether there are thirty or forty cases on which I might be convicted—my memory is bad—I cannot tell you when first I began to be a thief, it is not so long ago as early in 1871—I remember last being at Ramsgate on 2nd August; I stayed at the top of the Fort—I took 7l. or 8l. with me, and I had about 3l. left on 2nd August—I had about 2l. on the Monday when I went to Pegwell Bay to Mr. Hills's—Vann and I bought some bouquets for Mr. Hills's daughters, they cost something like 2s. each—I cannot tell whether the 10l. note was changed to pay for them—Vann gave me the notes on the Monday—I did not intend to steal them then, but it occurred to me to steal them when I changed the note—Vann is a great friend of mine—I did not think that I was throwing suspicion upon him—I went up to London on the Monday, on the Bank Holiday—I didn't know when Vann went up, but he came to business on the Tuesday evening—he did not ask me whether I had paid the money in—I believe I took a cheque on 13th October, but I can't remember what it was—I was not keeping a cigar shop, but I had an office in John Street, in the name of Adams & Co.—I had 30l. or 40l. worth of cigars there on the Tuesday—I knew of complaints made to Vann by Mr. Bramble's customers, and also by the Custom House; by Mr. Guy—I also knew that my principals knew nothing about it, Vann told me so—I knew that the irregularities suggested from The Custom House were an apparent credit to Messrs. Bramble day by day—the complaints were made to Vann himself and communicated by him to me.
Re-examined. I do not think I have kept letters back without Vann's knowledge—this letter (produced) is in my writing—I wrote it of my own accord. (Mr. Lewis objected that the letter was not evidence, and it was not read).
COURT. Q. You say that you cashed these open cheques frequently for the purpose of paying the duties at the Custom House, but you did not pay them? A. Yes, on several occasions—also kept back several warrants—when I came back I did not report to the prosecutor what I had been doing—I paid the warrants in next morning and kept the money—I mean to say that he never inquired how I had done the work—never told him I had kept the money or kept back the warrants.
The Prisoner received an excellent character.
GUILTY . Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. BESLEY and CHARLKS MATTHEWS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. A. B. KELLY the Defence.
EDWARD FUNNELL (City Detective). On the 25th February I took the prisoner on a warrant, granted at Guildhall—I read it to him in Little Love said "I don't know what all this means, I don't know any such person as Thompson"—I have had no dealings with him—I took him to Moor Lane Station, and found on him 2s. 8d. a metal chain, a memorandum book, and a letter case—I returned to Little Love Lane and locked up his room, but did not take anything away—I returned there nest morning and found these documents—here are ten sets arranged under letters: A, is the invoices of 1858; B, is letters of application to the prisoner as to references, some as to the respectability of Moss, Ryland's; C, contains letters from Guild & Co., of Belfast; D, letters from Scott, of Newcastle, and the prisoner's answers; E, letters from Knight, of Kidderminster, and the prisoner's answers; F, is a draft in the prisoner's writing of invoices from Moss, Ryland's, and the other dates; G, is paying in slips of money by the prisoner to his bankers, including Dent's cheque; K, is some of Lindsay's invoices, and a draft and a memorandum slip; L, is official letters from Lindsay and Co., taken off the file; M, is a draft letter of 9th June, 1873, from the prisoner to Blenkiron & Sons, and this diary—I found several old books of 1861, but no ledgers for this or last year, or any cash or day-books—I found this book, containing a written list of firms—there was a large iron safe, which I could not get open till the prisoner told me where I should find the key, and on opening it I only found two empty bottles. (Several letters were here put in from different firms to Messrs. Blenkiron & Co., inquiring as to the character of Moss, Ryland & Co; also copies of replies, staling that Moss, Ryland & Co., were regular in their payments, and usually bought monthly stock discounts. The following entries from the diary were also read: "May 9, cheque, loan from Moss 3l. 2s. 1d. "May 31, Moss, loan per cheque 2l. 5s. "July 3, Moss returned loan." "July 30, Moss, cash 10s." August 9, Moss, cheque 15l. " "September 15, Moss, Ryland returned loan of August 3, 17l.; ditto 12l. and had settlement up to this date." "September 23, Moss, Ryland & Co., loan 5l. " October 15, Moss Ryland & Co., returned loan 10l. " November 25, Moss, Ryland's loan, Dent's cheque 42l. " "December 6, Moss, Ryland & Co. returned loan 2l., 5l., and 3l., 10l." "December 13, Moss, Ryland & Co., cash per Dent's cheque, 28l.
Cross-examined. I went there about 3.30 p.m.—this plate "Blenkiron and Co." was on the door post, and on the office door on the third floor—the name was painted spelling it in a similar manner, "ARN"—the prisoner said that he knew nothing of the person in the case of Thompson—I know now that the proceedings were in the case of Lindsey & Co., of Belfast—I did not know it then—I had no difficulty in finding him—I sent a person who knew him well up to his office, who brought him down to me—there was no difficulty about his handing up the keys—I have gone through the letters and found the name of Moss, Ryland, of 42, Aldermanbury—that is not the same firm as the Moss, Ryland referred to in the letters—I know Moss, but I don't know Ryland—it is a fact that they were at 18, Lawrence Lane—they ran away from there after Christmas
—he had got an office over a public at the corner of Aldermanbnry—the direction on the letters was "Moss, Rylands, Aldermanbury"—I do not think there was any other Moss, Ryland there—I think the other Moss, Ryland was in Wood Street—the Moss, Ryland the prisoner referred to was in Aldermanbnry, but now in Lawrence Lane—they are the firm referred to in the correspondence—if I said before that it was not that is my mistake—they are at Lawrence Lane now, and the name is up—there was such a firm in Aldermanbury at the time the letters were written—this is the place to which I went (looking at a photograph)—I saw a plate like this on the door-post in this position—among the letters I found one from Robert Lindsay & Co., Belfast, addressed Messrs. Blackwood & Co., London—I also found a large bundle of these cards, and this acceptance for 78l. 10s. was found on the prisoner, and likewise a blank cheque—I found a cash-box in the desk.
Re-examined. The cash-box was found last Tuesday morning—it was not there when I searched before, and I believe someone has put it there since—I have kept possession of, the place ever since, but they must have let themselves in with another key, because I searched the desk as well as the other offices, and we could not have overlooked it, because it was the very thing we should have looked for—Messrs. Ashurst & Morris's clerk was there at the time we searched—the copying-press was not there when we searched—I know Samuel Moss—he had an office over a public-house at 47, Aldermanbury—I know a firm of Ryland & Co. of long standing in the City, but I do not know anyone named Ryland connected with the Samuel Moss I speak of.
ROBERT ROONEY . I am a member of the firm of R, and E. Rooney, brush manufacturers, at 27 and 28, Bishopsgate Street—I knew the prisoner in November, 1872, and received all these letters from him in the course of business—I knew him as Corbett & Co., but he afterwards wrote and told me he was the buyer, and not the principal—I never saw anyone there but him and a small boy—it was in Bennett's Place, Gracechurch. Street—there has been a firm Thomas Corbett & Co., of Gracechurch Street, established some time—I delivered the goods to order—they were painter's brushes—I got 10l. out of him, and afterwards put an attachment on his goods and got 14l. more—my bill was 48l.—these letters refer to the three actions—the first order was executed and he gave me another order—I saw him upon it, and made a communication to another person—I saw the prisoner—we had several altercations, and I told him I would stick to him—when the matter began to get wind he said he was not Corbett & Co.—I never saw Corbett.
Cross-examined. I never saw his signature till lately—I have no papers signed Corbett & Co—he brought the order—he did not represent himself as a buyer, and I presumed, as he brought the order, that he was a principal—it was not till he got the goods, and I pressed him for payment, that he said he was only the buyer—he did not say he was Corbett & Co.—after he had swindled me I put Davis and Maunder up to it, and brought Davis up to town—I don't know that at the time of the proceedings the prisoner was employed at so much a week—it never came to proceedings in court, us I abandoned the matter—when I had the second order I called at the prisoner's office, 11, Bennett Place, and saw him—I never asked if he was related to Corbett & Co.
Re-examined. It was subsequently to executing the first order that I wont and made the enquiry I am quite clear about that—I did not call at
the office before the first order was executed—it was executed ten days after I got it.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Did you by word of mouth bring to his knowledge that the name of Thomas Corbett and Co. was a fraud, and that you had been deceived? A. Yes, we had many altercations on the matter.
ERNEST ROBINSON . I produced the bankruptcy proceedings of Alfred Bower, Blenkiron—the petition was filed on 2nd of June, 1871, by Frederick John Dear—the amount of liabilities was 627l. 6s. 1d., and the total assets 25l.—the Bankruptcy has not been closed, it is still open—there has been Do dividend—he signs twenty sheets of writing on the proceeding as Blenkiron—the last statement of affairs is signed Alfred Blenkiron.
FRANCIS ALBERT HANCOCK . I am a printer and stationer at 37 and 38, Wood Street, and 5, Little Love Lane—this photograph (produced) represents the Little Love Lane side of the house—I let the third floor room to the prisoner, and the entrance is the second door in Little Love Lane—the workshops extend over all the three houses, and there is do communication from the third floor of Little Love Lane, to any other part of the building—I did not know the prisoner previous to letting the room to him—he referred me to Moss, Ryland of Aldermanbury—I sent my clerk there, and the negotiation ended in his signing this agreement and inventory in my presence—(Agreement read: "95, Richmond Road, Dalston, 23rd April, 1873, to Mr. F. A. Hancock, 37, Wood Street. Dear Sir, I agree to take the furniture, office, &c., on the first floor of the house in Little Love Lane, at the rental of 30l. per annum, payable quarterly, the first payment to be due on 24th June next, your obedient servant, A. Blenkiron.")—some days before the prisoner was taken into custody, my clerk at the money desk cashed this cheque for him—it-was returned through my bankers—these twelve letters appear to be in the prisoner's handwriting—whilst he was my tenant I occasionally saw packages of goods arrive—when they were too large to get up the stairs, without damaging the staircase, I allowed him to unpack them down stairs—he used to fetch a man with a truck and take them away to his packers as he told me—they went away very soon after they were received—I have seen his son there—I don't know a person called Samuel Moss.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has paid three quarters rent, and one little item for stationery—he owes one quarter up to the 25th March, that makes the twelve months he was there, he took it from March to March—the cheque he gave had nothing to do with the rent—he was in prison when the quarter's rent became due—the room where he had his office was within the block of buildings, and the entrance was at 5, Little Love Lane—there was no entrance from 37, Wood Street—I printed this little heading myself for him, "37, Wood Street, Cheapside, London, 187. Entrance second door Little Love Lane"—that referred to the office which he had, and I should be happy to do the same for anyone else—I did it for his convenience thinking that his customers would better find 37, Wood Street, than they would a turning down there—it did not strike me as dishonest—I thought his request was not at all unreasonable, and that it would be a better address for his customers to find him—I did not consider it was a false pretence.
WILLIAM CALEB CORK . I am one of the firm of Blenkiron & Sons, 123, Wood Street, manufacturers of collars and gentlemen's cravats and braces—we have been carrying on business there more than thirty years—I wrote
this letter which was found on the prisoner—I received this letter of the 9th of June, from the prisoner—we had received a letter from Hilton's, addressed to Blenkiron, 37, Wood Street. (Letters read: "37, Wood Street, Cheapside, 9th June, 1873, to Messrs. W. Blenkiron & Sons, 123, Wood Street, signed A. Blenkiron & Co." We have received yours, of the 3rd instant, addressed to Messrs. Hilton & Co., of Manchester, and are at a loss to understand such uncivil treatment from our neighbours—letters from 37, Wood Street, you must be aware could not be from your firm, for although the name is similar and may at all times be wrongly spelt, and everyone could distinguish that the two firms are disconnected, particularly as yours is so different to ours. (" The Utter referred to in the preceding, was a letter received by Messrs. W. Blenkiron & Sons, from Messrs. Hilton is Co., of Manchester, addressed to Messrs. Blenkiron & Co., 37, Wood Street, which was returned by Blenkiron & Sons, to Messrs. Hilton's.")
Cross-examined. A clerk from Messrs. Smith, Payne, & Co.'s came to me and presented a cash order for payment—I told him we did not owe them the money, and probably it might be the firm that I had heard of at 37, Wood Street, that was directed Messrs. Blenkiron & Co., Wood Street London, from Lindsay & Co., of Belfast—my firm is known as William Blenkiron & Sons—Blenkiron & Co. is not correct—this is our signature to one of our own letters—our firm does not deal in pocket handkerchiefs, or articles of that kind—we manufacture largely for wholesale purposes, neckties, braces, collars, and fronts—I have not done any business with Lindsay, of Belfast.
Re-examined. The prisoner himself addressed us as William Blenkiron & Co., in his letter of 9th June, and then struck it through—we had a very great many inquiries, and in many instances people thought that Blenkiron, Little Love Lane, was our firm—we were very much annoyed indeed.
ROBERT THOMPSON . I am trading in partnership with others as Robert Lindsay & Co., of Belfast—I received this letter of the 24th October, proved to be in the prisoner's handwriting, in due course of post, and in reply we sent some samples, and I addressed them to Blenkwood—at the moment I did not know personally either one firm or the other, and I sent a reply with samples of no value, and I thought they would send us a printed card if they were going to order goods, and by the same mail I had inquiry sent up to London—on 27th October we received this order—there is a dot in the signature, and I thought it was "Blenkiron"—we also received these orders of the 3rd and 10th November—you will find all our correspondence afterwards was to Blenkiron, and we opened the account as Blenkiron—we did not open the account upon the first letter, we merely sent samples of no value—after the second letter there were a number of letters, and we sent invoices and statements, and in every one of those documents we wrote Blenkiron—on the receipt of the second letter one of the partners looked at it and said it was Blenkiron & Co., of Wood Street; he had known that firm twenty years ago; they were all right—the first lot of goods, I think, was 150 dozen—these are the invoices—we intended to send the goods to our correspondents, Blenkiron & Co.—before any of the goods were sent I had the conversation with my partner, and he knew the firm—parted with the goods, believing that I was dealing with a respectable firm, of Blenkiron, of Wood Street—I should not have supplied goods to "Blenkarn" without inquiry—we applied for payment on two occasions, and we were being pressed for a fourth order—I said we would not send any more goods
I until we got paid for some of those already sent, and "we sent up the cash I order—we never got a shilling—the terms on which the goods were supplied I were payments on the 4th of the month following each invoice, less 1/2 per I cent, discount—I left Belfast on 20th February, and arrived in London on I the 24th—I went to 37, Wood Street, and found it was a stationer's shop—I then went to the genuine firm of Blenkiron, and then I went to Little Love Lane—I went there three times that day—when I received these letters I believed that the prisoner occupied those premises, 37, Wood Street, and the house two doors down Little Love Lane—I took that to be the goods entrance—138l. was the value of the goods I supplied—before I came to London we received two letters from Moss, Ryland & Co., one on February 14th and the other on the 19th. (The first of these requested samples; the, second was an order for 200 dozen handkerchiefs.) I went on 25th February to the Guildhall Police Court—I was in London on the 26th, and in my absence this letter was received from Moss, Ryland & Co.—it is dated the 26th, the day after the prisoner was in custody. (This letter countermanded the order, as time would not admit of reference, as the customer required the goods at once.) After the prisoner was released we received from Moss, Ryland's a post-office order 1l. 13s. 8d., and this is the letter that came with it.
Cross-examined. I now take the signature of the letter of the 26th October to be Blenkiron & Co.—I could not make out then whether it was "iron" or "eron"—I sent the goods to 37, Wood Street—I directed them "Blenkwood"—at the moment I sent the samples and wrote that letter I did not personally know the firm I was sending to, when I came to London I called upon Messrs. Ashhurst, Morris & Co., and they took out an attachment—I called with them at the Mayor's Court—that was with reference to the account at the City and County Bank—I made an affidavit in that case—I understood it was for an attachment against the banking account of this man—that was my object in going there—I had a bill from him showing that he had an account at the City and County Bank—this letter is in the handwriting of one of our clerks—it is dated 9th March, 1874, addressed to Moss, Ryland & Co.: "Dear Sirs,—We are in receipt of your favour of the 7th instant, enclosing 1l. 14s. 8d., placed to the credit of the account, with thanks. We are, dear Sirs, yours faithfully."
Re-examined. At that time I was in London, and they did not know in Belfast what had been discovered here—I arrived in London on Tuesday morning, the 24th—I went to Messrs. Ashhurst & Morris shortly after 10 o'clock, and what was done at the Mayor's Court was done by their advice—I never intended to forego the Criminal hold I had if fraud had been committed—I did not know that he had not 500l. at his bankers, it would not have affected the Criminal proceedings—I showed my solicitors the letters, signed Blenkiron & Co.
JOHN STEPHEN JARVIS . I am a buyer in the service of Dent, Allcroft & Co., who carry on business at 97, Wood Street—I know a younger Blenkarn than the prisoner, from having lived in our house as a junior employ—I believe he is the prisoner's son—young Blenkarn represented himself to me as the agent of Moss, Ryland & Co., a firm I had not hitherto known—he did not give me the address of Moss, Ryland's, he gave me his own address, Little Love Lane—on or about the 21st November, 1873, I purchased 150 dozen pocket handkerchiefs, at 5s. 9d., and this was the invoice
which was sent, it was dated the 21st November—they were paid for on the 25th November, with this cheque, for 42l., which was the nett amount of the parcel—on 10th December I had another transaction with young Blenkarn, and then I purchased 100 dozen pocket handkerchiefs, at 5s. 9d. per dozen, this was the invoice, and they were paid for with this cheque, for 28l., on the 13th December; both the cheques are to the order of Moss, Rylands & Co., and endorsed by them—the endorsement on this memorandum is in my handwriting, it was left by a messenger when the second transaction took place. (Read: "100 dozen of handkerchiefs, hemmed and folding boxes, as per order, at 5s. 9d., less 2 1/2 prompt, clear as before, should they be sent in before to-day, do not deliver.") They were promised at an earlier date, but coming late, before delivering the goods they asked the question—I wrote across the memorandum "Up to the mark, send them in at once," and delivered it to the messenger, and the goods came in due course, these papers are copies of the invoices which have been shown to me.
F. A. HANCOCK (Recalled). The draft of the invoices which were copied and delivered to Dent's are in the prisoner's handwriting—I can't say whether the pencil memorandum is his own or not—I have seen him write—I saw him write the agreement, it is very similar.
CHARLES FREDERICK CUMBER . I am a clerk, at Smith, Payne & Co., Bankers, of Lombard Street—Messrs. Lindsay, of Belfast, bank with them—on 18th February last this cash order came to us for collection, and I took it to Messrs. Blenkiron & Co., of 123, Wood Street, and presented it for payment, which was refused—I was referred to 37, Wood Street, to Mr. Blenkarn—I did not find it for two or three days—I went there and took the order with me—I found the prisoner there the second time I went, and I presented the order to him—he said he would send the draft on to Messrs. Lindsay.
Cross-examined. I did not find any Blenkarn at 37, Wood Street, it was a stationer's shop—the second time I went into the office, by the door round the corner.
Witness for the Defence.
WILLIAM LEWIS ANSETT . I am a clerk in the City and County Bank—I do not know the prisoner—I know who he is—a person of the name of Blenkiron banks with us—I produce his pass-book—he opened the account on 9th August, 1873, in the name of Alfred Blenkarn, 37, Wood Street, Cheapside—I have his original signature here—his cheques were to be signed Blenkarn & Co.—this is one of his cheques, his account was not closed, it was attached in February; during the time he had the account money was passed through at the rate of 1,000l. a year, he left a small balance; he opened with 47l., and in a day or two after ten guineas was paid in, then 27l., 27l., 10l., 70l., 12l., and 63l.—we honoured these cheques (produced).
Cross-examined. Our bank is a Limited Company, we have only one place of business, it has existed about three years—I am principal ledger clerk—the signature "Alfred Blenkarn" to these bankruptcy proceedings is totally different to the signature to the cheques; that looks like Blenkarn, this you could twist into Blenkiron if you chose, we always took it as "am"—in the first two months he paid in 266l. 13s., and the next quarter 229l. 10s.; with the exception of three cheques to John Knight & Co., the others are for very small amounts.
GUILTY . Eighteen Month's Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
307. JOHN COX (35) , to feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Thomas Walter Newman, having been before convicted of felony.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
MICHAEL BURKE . I live at No. 20, George Street, Croome's Hill, Green wich—on the night of the 23rd February, I went to bed at 11.15, having secured my house—next morning I found the top sash of the front kitchen window had been shot down, and this over-coat and metal watch of mine were gone.
ELIZABETH WOOLFORD . I am married and live at No. 5, Benlaw Street—the prisoner asked me on Tuesday about six or seven weeks ago to pawn a watch for him—I did so, in the name of Davis—and he gave me 5 1/2 d.
JOSEPH HOPKINS . I am assistant to Mr. Phillips, Pawnbroker, Wellington Street, Deptford—the watch was pawned at our shop on the 24th February, for 4s., in the name of Hannah Davis—I saw the prisoner at the time it was pawned.
Witnesses for the Defence.
Cross-examined. The 24th of February was Tuesday, as well as I recollect.
Cross-examined. I remember those particular days because my husband was away from home—the prisoner has lived with me since he has been home from the north.
By THE COURT. I was not present in the police court at Greenwich when he was tried on this charge, but I was there when he was charged with loitering on a gentleman's footpath, and he got off.
GUILTY on the second count. He also Pleaded Guilty to having been convicted of felony in October, 1871.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS the Defence.
GEORGE WILLIAM HARDING . I am a carman in the service of Mr. Tilley, and was from time to time employed to deliver coals for the Coal Consumer's Association—on 23rd December, 1873, I delivered 2 tons of coal to Thomas Edwards, Beresford Arms, Camberwell—I received 2l. 12s. from him, and gave him this card (produced), which I had received from the Association—I paid the money to the prisoner and he initialed the card.
Cross-examined. The prisoner gave me the card—he checks it out in the office—there is no counterfoil—there was also a red delivery note, which would be delivered back to the prisoner, and it would be his duty to glue it into the ticket-book for the Company to see.
JOHN TAYLOR . I am a carman in Mr. Tilley's employ—I deliver coals from time to time for the Coal Consumer's Association—on 23rd December I delivered 2 tons of coal to Mr. Bowden, of Hatcham Park Road, and received 2l. 12s. from him, which I took to the office at Camberwell, and paid it to Mr. Smith, who initialled this card (produced).
JOHN MARTIN . I am in Mr. Tilley's service, and have delivered goods for the Coal Consumer's Association—On 23rd December I delivered 2 tons of coal to Mr. Fuell, of High Street, Peckham, and received from him 2l. 12s., which I paid to Mr. Smith or Mr. Rawlings at the office, and the card was initialled by one of them—on 24th December I delivered a ton of coal to Mr. Russell, of Camberwell, whose wife paid me 1l. 6s. for it, which I handed to the prisoner, and he initialled this card (produced).
EDWARD SMITH . I was clerk to the Camberwell Depot of the Coal Consumer's Association under the prisoner—it was my duty to receive money paid by the Carmen for coals delivered when the prisoner was absent, and to initial the carmen's cards—I see my initials for 2l. 12s. on this card, dated December 25th—I received that sum from Taylor, the carman, otherwise I should not have signed it. I handed over that 2l. 12s., with other moneys, to Rawlings, but not the card—I received further moneys from him on the 23rd for the prisoner, and they are initialled by me—whenever I received money I handed it over to the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I was assistant clerk to the prisoner at the time he was given in custody—he had had notice to quit before that—he was succeeded by Mr. Norris, under whom I continued to work for a short time—one of the prisoner's duties was to keep the books of the Camberwell depot, and to visit the other depots and check the books there—about a fortnight before Rawlings was dismissed Mr. Saxon, an accountant, had been through the books, and I heard Rawlings ask him if they were all correct, and he said "Quite correct"—about a fortnight after that Mr. Norris called to look at the books, and took them away and kept them 2 or 3 days—tickets were used before I went, and after that a red delivery note, which used to be
brought back, which Rawlings handed in for the Company to see—upon those different delivery notes would appear the amount of coals which ought to be delivered and charged for, and that would be pasted in the book—I was not there when Mr. Peter Martin was manager—Mr. Jones was superintendent of the Camberwell depot—I know nothing about Jones opening a banking account—the prisoner's method was simply copying from the order-book on to the pink papers the coals ordered—he used to enter the amount in the stock-book subsequently.
Re-examined. Mr. Saville went there just before Christmas.
JOHN ROBERT NORRIS . I am assistant superintendent of the Coal Consumers' Association—in the early part of this year I was ordered to go through the books of the Camberwell Depot, kept by the prisoner—there was an order-book, a delivery-note book, and a stock-book—an order would be first entered in the order-book, the number, the date, the name and address of the party ordering, the quantity ordered, and the number of the coupon or delivery-note which would be presented—when the coals were sent out the carman would have an invoice given to him, and the order should be marked off as sent, with the name of the carman who took it—the delivery-notes have a cheque and a counterfoil—attached to the invoice is a receipt which the party receiving the coals signs and gives to the carman—a card is also received by the carman to deliver; it contains the particulars of the coals he is to deliver—the number of the invoice would be put on the card, by which we can identify the customer—it was the prisoner's duty to receive the money brought by the carman to the office, and the delivery-note, turned into a receipt, would be given to him, which he would paste in the delivery-book on the counterfoil from which it was torn—he would enter the receipt of the money in the stock-book—he entered the whole transaction, and there the matter would end—he would pay the money into the Kennington Butts Branch of the London and County Bank daily, and send up a weekly return—I have selected the weekly sheets sent in by the prisoner to the head office—I find 2 tons of coal ordered on 12th October by Mr. Edwards, of the Beresford Arms—they were not delivered till 23rd December—the order is No. 514—I am not certain whether it is the prisoner's writing or his assistant's—I have got the counterfoil, which is pasted in. (This was for two tons of coal, at 26s., 44,693 and 44,694, signed "Thomas Rawlings, E.S.") Then follows the receipt for two tons of coal, signed "James L. Edwards"—the entry in the stock-book is "24th December, two tons;" the date is in the prisoner's writing—there appears to have been a mistake; it is two tons, invoice No. 514, 26s.—the entries are correct, except that 26s. is put down instead of 2l. 12s., excepting the case of Mr. Fuell—Bond's order is for two tons, delivered on December 23rd, and the delivery-book says "Two tons, 26s.," signed by Thomas Rawlings—it is enclosed again in the stock-book, "Two-tons, 26s."—on the same date is "Mr. Fuell, two tons ordered December 11th, delivered December 23rd"—here is a note in the margin, "One ton only sent, T.R."—the counterfoil is "Fuell, 114, High Street, Peckham," "1" ton altered to "2," a "2" altered to "1;" 26s. in the prisoner's writiug—two tons are signed for—in the stock-book here is "One ton at 26s. 26s."—here is Mr. Russell, of Leipsic Road; one ton Silkstone ordered on 28th October, and sent on December 24th, 26s., and here is Mr. Russell's receipt—there is no entry of that in the stock-book; it, is not accounted for—on 5th June two tons of small coal are ordered by Buzzuy & Co., and sent
on the same day—the invoice-book says "Two tons at 17s.," and is signed "F.R.," which appears to be in the prisoner's writing, and then there is "Two tons small, per G. G. Buzzey. J. White."—there is no entry in the stock-book at all—in each of those instances, Edwards, Bowden, and Fuell, he has only accounted for 1l. 6s. instead of 2l. 12s., and he has not accounted for Russell or Buzzey's order at all—these documents, called "Expenditure accounts," were sent in weekly by the prisoner—I have gone through the amounts, and find cheques from the Directors paying for them which are all here, so that each of these expenditure accounts was satisfied each week by cheque—these two signatures (produced) are those of the directors.
Cross-examined. With the exception of the accounts which do not appear in the stock-book at all, I find the orders and the delivery notes correct with the exception of Fuller's case, I find the stock-book correct in the number of tons delivered, though incorrect in the amount of money posted—he was given in custody on 14th January—we call ourselves the Coal Owners' Association—we only supplied shareholders at that time, but we supply the public now—coals ordered in September were not delivered till December, because we had only just started the association, and it took some time to work it—I was not connected with it then, but I suppose the supplies were not forthcoming—I do not know whether more than one of these depots were without coals for several weeks—I was only connected with one depot—there is a superintendent named Jones, he is here and knows all about it.
JONES. I live at Maida Hill, and am manager of depots in the Metropolitan District of the Coal Consumers Association—we had a depot at Camberwell in October last, and the prisoner was employed to superintend it—it was his duty to keep certain books and to receive money for coals delivered—he had not to look after any other depots, but he had to go round to see the Kensington and Finchley Road Depots at times, to see that my system was carried out—he was my assistant—there are twelve depots, he was depot clerk at Camberwell, and when the other clerk left, I added other duties and increased his salary to 2l. 15s., a week—I opened an account at the Newington Butts branch bank for the current expenses of the Camberwell Depot—the prisoner sent in every week to the head office an account of his expenses, and they were paid by cheque ordinarily—he had not, to my knowledge, made any charge against the Company for expenses, beyond what had been paid, nor had he complained—he commenced his double duty in September—I saw him on the day he was taken in custody—the week's sheets showing money received by him, came up to me to be initialled before they were paid—those are the sheets which have been handed to Mr. Norris.
Cross-examined. I was in the employ of the Company when Mr. Peter Martin was there—we had not always sufficient coals to supply our customers and then we could not deliver them—the banking account for expenses was opened on November 14th, 1873—I am not aware that Mr. Peter Martin did not hand in two cheques in August, amounting to 53l. to open this account for expenses—I did not tell him that I could not open the account with those two cheques, because I owed Mr. Tilley, the contractor 10l.—I have no recollection of handing him back one of the cheques for 23l. odd, and asking him to change it as it was payable to his order—will not swear that I did not—cannot tell you whether he cashed it for me, and whether I paid Tilley 10l. out of it—I paid Tilley over 10l., but I
did not retain the balance myself—I do not recollect handing him back the 30l. cheque and telling him to pay the week's expenditure out of it—he is here—I do not remember whether the week's expenditure came to 23l. or whether he handed me back 7l. out of the 30l. cheque—I did not open the account at the bank till November, because I did not think proper to do so—it was left to my discretion by the directors to open it when I pleased—I did not use the two cheques to open the account in August, because Mr. Martin was about to leave the depot—I kept the money because it was required to pay the expenses of the depot; I kept the balance in hand—the weekly sheets were made up from Thursday morning to Wednesday evening, and I generally come on Thursday or Friday morning to examine the sheets—I used to pay Martin the amount of the expenditure sheet while he was there, and when he received the cheque on the following Wednesday, he sometimes handed it to me—he left the depot to go to the head office, and a man named Blake took his place—Blake was there more than three weeks—he got a small sum to the bad; I can't say whether it was 7l.—he may have said that he had handed to me whatever amount he was wrong, but I don't remember it—how can I swear what I don't know anything about—there was no dispute between us as to whether he had handed it to me—if there had been I should have recollected it—there was a little arrear in Blake's account, but he did not say that it was through me, or that he had handed the sum to me—I never heard Rawlings say in my presence and Martin's, that owing to his having received no cheque from the office or cash from me—he had had to pay the men and trades people out of the money he had received for coal, but in my infirmity of deafness I cannot say—Martin is not deaf—I have given Rawlings papers authorising him to pay out of the accounts—I sanctioned his doing so when by any hitch I had not got the money—I did that twice, and you have got the two papers by which I sanctioned it—one was about 13l., and I cannot tell the amount of the other—that was not about the time I neglected to pay the 53l. into the bank—it was before the banking account was opened, but I cannot say whether it was before I got the cheques in August.
Re-examined. I cannot fix any date for this affair with Martin, and the two cheques—if I had known you would ask me I would have refreshed my memory—it was during Mr. Martin's time, and the prisoner was not employed at Camberwell during Martin's time; he succeeded Blake—I did not think it prudent to open a banking account when there were charges at the depot—the account was opened on 4th November by 50l. being paid in, and it was always kept at 50l.—after the account was opened Rawlings always received sufficient to make up for his expenditure—it was opened in the name of Jones and Rawlings—I only gave Rawlings authority on two occasions to pay expenses out of money received.
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Is this correct—The agent will be supplied from time to time with a fixed amount of cash 1" A. No—it was forbidden to appropriate any of the money received—I authorized him to do it because I was the head of the department, it was done by my sanction, but I don't know why—the directors prepare these documents—I have been in the company's employ since its formation—these rules refer to agents within twenty miles of London.
JOSEPH ALFRED SMITH . I am manager of the Newington Branch of the London and County Bank—the Coal Consumers Association (Limited) kept an account there, and an account was also kept in the name of Jones and
Rawlings—this is the pass book—the account was opened on 14th November, by a payment of 50l. in cheques and cash—I produced the debit slips—the 50l. was renewed from time to time and kept at 50l. as near as might be—I also produced the paying in slips of the Coal Consumer's Association from October 3rd, to December 10th, which is the last entry on account of the Camberwell depot, but the account of Jones and Rawlings was still open—this is the pass-book—you will see a payment here after December 10th—this (produced) is a fresh account of the Coal Consumers Association, it begins on 10th December—it carries on the other, but a different arrangement was then made, the money paid into the Camberwell branch was passed on to the head office—these slips represent the sums paid in from time to time.
Cross-examined. Jones & Rawlings' account was closed on 10th December, and the Coal Consumers' account still goes on—Jones & Rawlings' account was opened with 2l. 15s. in money and three cheques on our head office, not with cheques of 33l. and 20l.—I can fetch the cheques for you, and this (produced) is the letter which was sent when the account was opened—handed it to him personally—I have made up the total amount of money paid in, it is 579l. 4s. 2d., from 3rd October, to December 31st—the receipts during that period were 614l. 10s. 9d., leaving 35l. 6s. 7d.
Witness for the Defence.
PETER MARTIN . I was at one time in the service of this Coal Association—I entered at the commencement and took the management of the Camberwell depot, which I managed till 10th December, when I was removed to the head office—it was the course of business to take the orders, enter them in the order-book, place them in the invoice-book, and from thence to stock-book and to make out the weekly receipts from the stock-book—Wednesday was the day for payments for the week's expenditure, and it was made out up to that day—there were expenses sheets, which could be com pared with the weekly sheets, and if they did not tally the error must be detected—that was the old system—the expenses sheets and return sheets were charged and initialed by Mr. Jones—every shareholder in the association has a certain number of coupons, according to the number of shares he holds, and the amount of coal he is entitled to depends upon the number of his shares—I remember receiving two cheques in August from the head office, amounting to 53l., for the purpose of opening an expenses account—one was for 30l., and the other for 23l. 10s.—I handed them to Mr. Jones, because he had shown me a letter a few days previously which he had received, and told me that I might expect that amount to open the account—he said that he could not do so on account of owing Mr. Tilley 10l. for the previous week—I know that he is deaf, but I made him perfectly understand—he paid the 10l. out of the cheque for 23l. 10s., and put the balance in his pocket—he then gave me back the 30l. cheque, I endorsed it, cashed it and gave him the 30l. in cash—the week's expenses had to be settled, amounting to 23l. odd, and he paid me that out of the 30l. cheque—I subsequently received another cheque for 23l. for expenses, and gave it to Mr. Jones—at that time he had the whole 50l. in his possession, but he had paid Tilley 10l.—after I left the depot, Mr. Blake took my place temporarily, and somehow got about 7l. wrong—Mr. Blake said that he believed Mr. Jones had had the money—I don't know whether Jones could hear that, but he was informed of the fact I know—I cannot tell you what he said to it—I was present in the office on 17th October when Rawlings told
Mr. Jones that he had received no cheque, and that he had paid expenses amounting to 28l. odd out of the coal money, Mr. Jones said "I will give you a receipt for the money, stating that the pay sheet will owe that amount of money"—this is the paper Jones handed to him, with his signature to it; this other paper is also in Jones's writing. (Read: "Pay Sheet, Dr. to Camberwell Depot, amount of sheet, week ending October 15th, 1873, 28l. 1s. 9d. J. Bent Jones, October 17th, 1873"—"Camberwell Pay Sheet, October 22nd, 1873, owes Camberwell Depot 18l. 10s. 2d. W.' Bent Jones, October 24th, 1873.") During Blake's time all the cheques were sent to me, and I numbered them and handed them to Mr. Jones—I always found the prisoner very attentive to his business, and he had onerous duties to perform, not only at his own office, but of all the depots.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I left the employ on 24th December—I was not discharged, I left before Rawlings—I gave notice because they would not pay me my salary—I put them in the Mayor's Court, and then they paid me—I received fifteen guineas and expenses—I joined the Camberwell Depot on 17th July, and was there till 10th September, when I was taken to the head office, but I always lived at the Camberwell depot; I continually went backwards and forwards and gave instructions—when I received these moneys for expenses there was no banking account, the same books were kept which are kept now—I kept them—when I went from Camberwell there was no complaint about any deficiency, and no charge against me of not having made proper accounts. Rawlings had a different system of books to what I had—I entered in the order-book the customers name, the amount to be paid, and the date—the invoice was entered in the stock-book when the money was received, not before—the pay sheet was prepared from the stock-book and sent in each week.
Re-examined. The difference of system was this, Rawlings made out from his order-book on slips of paper the names of the different parties he was sending coals to and filled them in at his leisure into his stock-book—I was there to see that.
NOT GUILTY .
311. THOMAS RAWLINGS was again indicted for embezzling the suras of 1l. 16s., 15s., and 1l. 6s. of his said masters; also for stealing 35l. 16s., the moneys of his said masters, upon both of which Mb. Straight offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
JENKINS PLEADED GUILTY , also to a previous conviction— Twelve Months' Imprisonment—no evidence was offered against
BURLS— NOT GUILTY .
315. JAMES LINDSAY (33), to eight indictments, two for forging and uttering orders for the payment of money and six for embezzling various sums of Richard Gardner and Marshall Jones, his masters>— Seven years' penal servitude—the amount of his defalcations was stated to exceed 2,000l. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND & BUCK conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH GLASS . I am assistant to Mr. Bradley, a draper, of 6, Cranbourne Street, Leicester Square—on 6th March the prisoner came in for a feather, which came to 6 3/4 d.—she gave me a half-sovereign—I did not notice it, but passed it over to Mr. Bradley's son.
THOMAS BRADLEY . I took the half-sovereign—I saw it was bad and told the prisoner so—asked if she had any more money, and how she came by it—she said a gentleman gave it to her—I gave her into custody.
FRANK PAGE . I am assistant to Mr. Smith, draper, 77, New Cut—on 14th March the prisoner came and bought a penny piece of tape—she gave me this shilling—I found it was bad and bent it—she said she did not know it was bad a gentleman gave it to her last night—I gave her in charge.
MR. WEBSTER. The half-sovereign and shilling are both bad.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND & BUCK conducted the Prosecution; MR. MEAD the Defence.
MILLIAM MCKEAN . I keep the Terminus Hotel Tap, London Bridge-on 3rd March, about half-past 11 at night, the two prisoners came in—I knew Burton—Sullivan asked for a pint of beer, and gave my wife a shilling—she put it in the detector—it bent—she said it was bad, and put it on the counter—Sullivan took it up and said to Burton, "You must be a fool, you must have known it was bad, you must have got it from your favorite"—I did not hear Burton make any reply—she paid for the beer with two penny pieces, and they left together—I followed and gave them into custody—I had served Burton three or four days previously, and she then gave me a bad 2s. piece, which I bent and returned to her.
Cross-examined. I am quite sure she is the same person—that was the first time I had seen her.
AUGUSTUS FLINT (Policeman M 26). On the night of 3rd March I saw the female prisoner in Mary's Pond; in a few minutes the man joined her; she gave him something out of a basket and said, "You call for a pint;" they went into the Terminus Tap; they came out in about five minutes, and in consequence of what the landlord said I took them into custody—I found the bad shilling in Sullivan's hand—he said Burton was his sister.
The prisoners' statement before the Magistrate:—Sullivan says, "My sister has been living a very bad life; I met her promiscuously, and she gave me a shilling because I had spent my pal's money; we went in to get it changed; never knew it was bad." Burton says: "I am unfortunate; a man gave me the shilling; I did not know it was bad; I know nothing of the florin."
SULLIVAN NOT GUILTY —BURTON GUILTY —She also pleaded guilty to a previous conviction.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
WILLIAM BUSSLEY . I am shopman to Mr. Sherbud, a draper, of 43, Lambeth Walk—on Thursday evening, 5th March, the prisoner came in and asked for a wool shirt—it came to 3s. 9d.—he gave me a half-sovereign—I gave it to Mrs. Sherbud—she put it in a drawer, gave the prisoner 6s. 3d. change, and he left—about five minutes afterwards I examined the half-sovereign and found it was bad—on the Saturday following I saw the prisoner, passing, and called him in and told him he had given me a bad half-sovereign—he said he did not know it was bad, but after some talking he arranged to pay as little as he could—he was to come on the Monday, but did not—I saw no more of him till 25th March, when he was in custody—I got the half-sovereign from Miss Sherbud, marked it, and gave it to Rogers.
Prisoner. He has known me for a long time, and knew where I lived. Witness. I knew him by sight as a costermonger—I asked where he lived on the Saturday to see if he gave a right address, as I had watched him previously.
SARAH SHERBUD . Bussley gave me the half-sovereign, and I put it in a box in a drawer—there was no other gold there—I gave the prisoner 6s. 3d. change—about five minutes afterwards I took it out, and found it was bad—I kept it by me till I afterwards gave it to Bussley.
HEPHZIBAH WHITE . My husband keeps a tobacconist's shop in Vauxhall—on 16th March the prisoner came for half an ounce of the best shag, and gave me a bad half-crown—I told him it was bad—he said it was not, and I was a d----liar—I said "You have been here twice before, and I have given you both the coins back, but I shall not give you this one back"—he said he would have it—I sent for a constable and gave it to him, but did not give the prisoner into custody—I had seen him the previous evening, and he gave me a bad sixpence, and three or four weeks before that he gave me a bad florin.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know the half-crown was bad, and as to the half-sovereign, I will take my oath the one I gave was a good one.
GUILTY — Judgment respited.
ELIZABETH FULWOOD . I am a baker, at 168, High Street, Borough—on 11th March the prisoner came in for two scones, which came to 2d., and gave me a bad 2s. piece—I said "Who are these scones for?"—he said "A man out by the church sent me for them"—I sent my man out with him; he brought him back and said there was no man waiting for him—I gave the prisoner incharge and gave the florin to the constable.
STEPHEN WEBB (Police-man M 84). I took the prisoner into custody, and Mrs. Fulwood gave me this florin—the prisoner said he was standing against St. George's Church when a gentleman came and asked him if he would earn 2d., and gave him the 2s. piece to get two scones—I took the prisoner to Southwark Police Court—he gave the name of George Weston—he was remanded till the 18th, and then discharged.
FREDERICK HUGHES . I am errand-boy to Mary Stanley, who keeps a railway arch—on the afternoon of 18th March the prisoner came and asked for two halfpenny oranges, and gave me a 2s. piece—I gave him 1s. 11d. change—I gave the florin to my sister—she told me to go and try it; I did, in a detector, and found it was bad; it bent—I ran up the road after the prisoner; he saw me coming, and took to his heels—I ran after him—a large chap came up and said he would kill me if I ran any farther, and twisted the florin out of my hand—I still ran on, and then he hit me in the back with a large stone—I told the policeman, and he caught the prisoner—after he was in custody he said he gave the florin and the oranges and the change to the other boy.
WILLIAM BLAKEY (Policeman P 414). Hughes spoke to me, and I followed the prisoner into a field, and ran him down—he gave the name of George Smith, 9, Redcross Street, Borough—I made inquiry there—he said a French gentleman gave him the 2s. piece for carrying a parcel from London Bridge to Herne Hill—I asked where the 1s. 11d. change was—he said he had given that and the oranges to the elder boy, who escaped—I saw the other boy with him, sitting under a hedge, smoking, but was not able to take both—the other was about eighteen or nineteen years of age.
GUILTY — Three Weeks' Imprisonment and Three Years in a Reformatory.
ELIZABETH SEEAR . I am the wife of William Seear, a dairyman, of 17, Lucas Road, Kennington Park—on the afternoon of 16th March, between 3 and 4 o'clock, Levy came in and asked for half a pound of biscuits, which came to 2 1/2 d.—she gave me a half-crown, and I gave her 2s. 3 1/2 d. change—I put the half-crown in the till—there was no other there—she then left—in about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, Cooper came in for half an ounce of 2s. tea and 1d. worth of sugar—she gave me a 2s. piece—I gave her change, and she left—I then tried the florin with my teeth, and found it was bad—I left the shop in charge of a little girl, and went to Aldred Row, about 50 yards off—there saw Levy coming from one side of the road to the other, towards Cooper—I said to Cooper "I want you; you have given me a bad 2s. piece"—she said she was very sorry, and she opened her purse, gave me a good 2s. piece, and I gave her back the bad one—when I got back to the shop I tried the half-crown, and found that was bad—I gave it to Lambert, who shortly afterwards brought back Cooper, and my husband brought back Levy, and they were given into custody.
of what she said I went after the prisoners—they were walking together—when they saw me they separated; Cooper walked fast, and Levy ran—I followed her with the half-crown in my hand, and asked her if she knew anything of it—at first she did not, and then she asked if I meant about the biscuits—I said "Yes"—she said she did not believe it was bad—I. asked what she had done with the biscuits; she said she had eaten them—I took her back, and on the way saw Cooper—I told her she must come back with me to the shop—she said she would not come back for me, nor fifty people, and used very frightful and disgusting language—Mr. Seear came up; I gave him the half-crown, and handed Levy over to him, and went back to find Cooper—I took her back to the shop—I asked her what she had done with the florin—she said she had taken it back to the shop she got it from, and they had given her another one for it—I asked her what shop—she said it did not matter to me what shop it was.
THOMAS HARVEY (Policeman P 220). The prisoner was given into my custody with this half-crown—I took them to the station—they said they were perfect strangers to each other—I asked Cooper where the florin was, she said she had it in her bosom, she shook her clothes and it dropped to the ground—Cooper had a basket, and in it were the biscuits Levy had purchased.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES HARDING . I am a journeyman carpenter and live at 7, St. Stephens Square, Kent Street, Borough—on 28th March, I had been to visit my sister and was returning home about 12.30 on the morning of the 29th—as I was going through Kent Street I saw a group of five or six men, and the prisoner was standing against the wall, about a couple of yards from them—as I was about to pass the prisoner threw a cloth over my shoulder—he had a knife in his right-hand, and he put his thumb under my throat and said "Here is a b----that I will shave"—he took my hat—I tried to get away—I took off the prisoner's hat—I called police, and the constable Flint came up—Hill was a little way behind—the prisoner was holding me when Flint came up—I asked Flint to take him—he said "What must I take him for"—I said "He has robbed me of my hat and tried to choke me"—Flint took him by the right-hand and said "You must come with me to the station"—he said he would not go—he resisted and there was a scuffle—the other men had hold of me—the prisoner said to Flint "I would not go with forty such b----as you"—the struggle continued and the prisoner threw Flint down—he tried to get up and the prisoner kicked and beat him about—Hill came up and took hold of the
prisoner, and Flint drew his staff—the prisoner got away and ran into a house opposite, and a man at the door stopped Flint from going in—some other policeman came up and they went into the house—they brought the prisoner out and took him to the station, and I went too.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I never saw you before—I did not call it a lark at all what you did—I did not know what you were going to do—you did not hurt me—you only frightened me—you took my hat off, and I afterwards had both hats in my hand—the constable took you by the right arm and the knife was in your right-hand—I gave you into custody for taking my hat and robbing me—I lost my purse and 8s. too—I did not tell the policeman I had lost any money then—my purse had been in the breast-pocket of my coat—I missed it next morning as I was getting up—I hung my coat up on a nail in my room when I went to bed—it is not a lodging-house—a man slept there sometimes, but he was not there that night—the money was in my pocket when I left my sister's, who lived in the borough, and I had not come away five minutes—I took my purse out because I gave my sister sixpence, and I missed it the next morning.
AUGUSTUS FLINT (Policeman M 26). Between 12 and 1 o'clock on the morning of 29th March, I was on duty in Kent Street—I heard cries of "Police!" and went to the spot with Hill—I saw the prisoner holding Harding by the coat, and he also was holding a cloth up to his throat, and Harding said "Leave go, you are choking me"—the prisoner had a knife open in his hand—he saw me and released Harding, who said he had been robbed of his hat and nearly choked—I said "How was it"—he said as he was passing down Kent Street, the prisoner threw the cloth over his face almost choking him, and also stole his hat—I asked him if he wished to charge him, he said "Yes, I do"—I asked him a second time, and he said "Yes, I should think I would, I will come"—I took the prisoner by his right arm and said "You will have to go to the station with me"—we walked about three yards when the prisoner stopped—I said "You might as well go quietly, you will have to go"—he said "Not for forty such b----as you," at the same time he caught hold of me by the cape strap—I had my great coat and cape on—then caught hold of the prisoner by a silk hankerchief he had round his neck—he had the knife open in his hand then—he said "Leave go you b----or I will kill you"—he struggled and struck me a blow on the left shoulder with his right hand—we both fell—I felt for my truncheon, and I caught hold of someone's hand in the act of drawing it out—when I went up, there were five or six roughs there—I knew them very well—the hand let go, and I drew my truncheon and struck the prisoner on the arm with the wrong end—he still struggled, and almost choked me with my cape—I struck him several times on the arm—the roughs closed round us and we fell to the ground again—the prisoner snatched my truncheon, and threw it into the midst of the crowd—he called on the roughs and said "Let the b----have it"—the other constable was on the ground then thrown by the mob—about half-a-dozen of them made a rush, and the prisoner got away—whilst I was on the ground the second time I was kicked and rolled about in the mud for yards—the prisoner ran across to a lodging-house which his father keeps, No. 12, Kent street—I followed and caught him as he was entering the door, but his father came out and pulled the prisoner away and forced me back from the door and would not allow me to go in—he said "You shan't go over our house without a warrant"—we sprung our rattles and
other constables arrived—we forced our way through the passage into the back yard and found the prisoner in some premises in the rear—he was; brought out and taken to the station—I was exhausted then—Mr. Evans the surgeon saw me, and I had a wound on the left shoulder where the prisoner had struck me—I produce my coat and cape and under coat—there are holes cut right through—my cape was cut all to pieces—there was only one hole in the coat on the shoulder where he struck me—I was bruised in several parts of the body.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. When I drew my truncheon I struck you as hard as ever I could strike you—I only felt the blow on the shoulder—I did not feel the knife at the time—I did not see the knife after I first came up until you stopped to struggle—I found the knife in your waistcoat pocket when you were searched, two hours afterwards—I did not take hold of you before I knew the charge, I have been in the police long enough to know better than that—I first heard of the purse being lost when Harding came to the court—I took you for nearly choking him, and robbing him of his hat—I did not see the knife after we fell.
Prisoner. It was quite an accident he got hurt on the shoulder as he did as I found I had the knife in my hand—I put it in my pocket.
ALFRED HILL (Policeman M 327.) I was in Kent Street, with Flint—we heard cries of "Police!" and I went with him to the spot—I saw the prisoner holding Harding, and he also had a cloth over his chest—Harding charged him with nearly checking him and stealing his hat—Flint took him by the arm—the prisoner went quiet for about three yards and then he commenced to struggle—he had an open knife in his hand—I did not see him strike with it—they afterwards fell to the ground—the account that Flint has given is correct—I was kept back by the roughs who were standing round for sometime—I was afterwards thrown on the ground by the prisoner and kicked by the roughs, and my clothes were cut—I found a cut on my coat—the next morning—it went through my great coat, tunic, and waistcoat—it did not cut me at all—I was examined by the doctor at Stones End. "
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I came up about ten yards behind Flint—he did not take hold of you by the collar before you resisted—I had hold of you and I helped to take you to the station that night—six or seven men kept me back at first, there were more afterwards—I saw Flint draw his truncheon—he hit you several times on the hand—I did not draw my truncheon—I had not the chance—the sergeant found my coat cut in the morning—I believe it did penetrate right through my clothes and just touched my back—I did not hear Harding say anything at the station about losing any money—he had two hats in his hand—you had not a hat on nor had Harding.
THOMAS EVANS . I am divisional surgeon of the M division—I examined Flint—he had a slight punctured wound on the left shoulder—it could have been caused by this knife—the cuts on the clothes corresponded with it and—they are in the same position as the wound on the shoulder, it was very slight—I examined Hill at the police court, the magistrate wished me to examine him—I found no wound—he had cuts in his clothes similar to those of Flint, but it had not penetrated beyond his waistcoat.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was called to see you—your shoulder was very severely bruised, and you had a bad wound on the scalp—there was just a drop of blood on the constable—it could not have been done with any great force, certainly—the knife is not sharp.
Prisoner's Defence. It was all through a lark, placing the handkerchief round the man's neck—we were going to shave him—he was frightened seeing the knife, and he called out "Police!" and the constable pulled out his truncheon and hit me before I knew what the charge was at all—I put my hand on his shoulder, and the knife was in my hand—I shut it up and put it in my pocket, where it was found—I was severely beaten about by three or four more constables besides—it is a mere accident and through a lark—I had no intention of hurting either the man nor yet the constable.
The Jury stated that they did not think there was any evidence that it was a rough scene got up for the purposes of facilitating a robbery.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. THE COURT ordered Flint a reward of 3l., and Hill a reward of 2l.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SIMS defended Johnson.
ELIZABETH MITCHELL . I am a widow, and live at 80, Cornwall Road, Lambeth—about the beginning of February I let my back room first floor to the prisoners—they told me they were brothers, and said they were night printers—they brought two boxes and occupied the same room—on the night of the 21st February, my daughter called me and I went into the prisoners' room—I found the drawers broken open and everything in the shape of wearing apparel and linen removed—the drawers had all been locked, with the exception of one small drawer, which I gave them for their things—the value of the property which I lost was about 7l.—I sent to the station, and Davis, a detective came—Johnson returned about 12 o'clock, when the officer was in the house—I said "You cruel young man, you have robbed me"—he looked at me and said "Me robbed you, I have not robbed you, I would not do so, for you have been so kind, and what my brother has done I can't help"—the officer spoke to him then—the officer had been into the room and searched the boxes.
Cross-examined. The room was in dreadful confusion—the lids of the boxes were not open—I have not seen any of the goods since.
PHCEBE MITCHELL . I am the daughter of the last witness—on the night of 21st February, Simpson came and paid me a washing bill—about 8 o'clock I heard somebody walking about in their room—I can't say whether it was before or after he came and paid me—I heard someone go into the hall and return to the room, and afterwards I heard somebody go out of the street door about 9 o'clock—about 10 o'clock I went to the room for something I wanted, and found it all in confusion—I called my mother.
Simpson. Q. How long was it before I came and paid you the washing bill. A. I should think twenty minutes at least—you were in the house about 7.30, and you went out sometime after 8 o'clock—after you paid me the washing you may not have been in the house a quarter of an hour, but you were in some time before you came down and paid me—my mother allowed your brother a key—I never let you in.
ELIZABETH MITCHELL (Re-called). The house was properly secured, and the bed room was safe between 6 and 7 o'clock—I allowed Johnson to have a key the week after he had been with me—previous to that I used to let them in myself at all hours of the night—the street door was never left open
—it could only be opened by a latch key—Johnson came in about 12 o'clock that night—I gave Johnson the key for the use of both.
Simpson. You did not allow me a latch key. Witness. No, unless you got it from your so-called brother, you could not get in—I had the key returned to me at the station-house—Johnson said to the officer "That is Mrs. Mitchell's key will you give it to her"—Johnson came in with the key at 12 o'clock.
ROBERT DAVIS (Detective Officer L). I was called to Mrs. Mitchell's at 10.30., on the 21st February—I went to the first floor back room and saw two boxes containing house-breaking implements—I produce them—there is a lantern, two screw-drivers, and a chisel, and these skeleton keys were found between the bed and the mattress—these two knives were found on Johnson—I waited until he came in, about 12 o'clock—I asked him which was his box, he said "I have no box here"—I called his attention to the two boxes in the room, he said "Those are our boxes"—prior to that I found that every chest of drawers had been forced open and ransacked—I told him he would be charged with stealing a quantity of linen from Mrs. Mitchell—he said "I know who you are"—I took him into custody—I found a box on him containing one small match.
Cross-examined. I was waiting for Johnson to come in—he was outside the room when he said "I have no boxes here"—when I took him into the room he said "Those are our boxes"—they were unlocked but the lids were closed—I found this large knife with a saw to it, a purse containing four sovereigns and 15s. 9d., and a gold ring.
JAMES WATSON (Police Inspector M). I took Simpson into custody on 6th March, at a house in Lancaster Street, Borough Road—I conveyed him to the station and told him he would, be charged with committing several burglaries at Clapham, Brixton, and Lambeth.
THE COURT considered there was not sufficient evidence against
JOHNSON— NOT GUILTY .
SIMPSON— GUILTY .
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SIMS Defended Johnson.
WILLIAM NASH . I am a clothier at 75, High Street, Clapham—on Wednesday, 13th January, the house was all safe when I went to bed—next morning I found the shop in confusion, and my goods carried from the shop into the room adjoining—I missed a large quantity of goods to the value of 50l. and upwards, and also a knife with a saw—I have seen some of the property since on both the prisoner's when I went to Southwark Police Station, on the Monday after they were apprehended—I think it was on the 5th March—these clothes (produced) were worn by Johnson, and these by Simpson—they are all mine—I found my ladder had been placed against the back window—one of the panes had been cut which would enable anyone to open the window—it was not so when I went to bed—the shop door had been forced and the street door was left open—it had all been shut up about 10 o'clock the night before.
Cross-examined. Those clothes were part of the stock, and they bear my private mark—I can swear to the lining—Cooper Box is a large hatter, and this is one of his hats—I deal in hate and coats, and all those things—those things responsible the things that were in my window, and which were gone on the Wednesday.
Re-examined. This is my knife—it was in my tool-box.
JAMES WATSON (Police Inspector M). I took Simpson, on the 6th March—he was wearing these clothes—on the 7th March, in the cell passage at the Southwark Police Court, Mr. Nash identified this shirt, pair of trousers, waistcoat, coat, and hat, as his property, from the marks upon them—Simpson said "They are mine, they don't belong to Mr. Nash.
Simpson in his defence stated that he bought the clothes in Petticoat Lane.
SIMPSON— GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in September, 1868.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. JOHNSON— GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
JOHN DAVID GIBBS . I am agent to Messrs. George Graham & Co., brewers at Blair—they have an agent's office in Park Street, Southwark—I left that office about 6 o'clock, on the 24th of February—I locked up the safe—it then contained ten books, and about 10l. in gold and silver—they were business books—on the morning 25th, I went to the office about 10 o'clock, and found the safe and contents gone—the hasp had been broken off the office door, and this jemmy was found inside the door.
HENRY DAWSON . I am a carman in the employ of Mr. Lansdell—the prisoner is also a carman in the same employment—on the evening 24th February, I locked the stable gates in Stable Street, Long Lane, Bermondsey, and we all left together—the prisoner went one way, and I went the other—there was no barrow in the yard when we left.
JAMES BYATT . I am a warehouseman to Messrs. Preston and Morris, Hop Merchants, 50, Nelson Square, Bermondsey—they have a warehouse in Stable Street, Long Lane—that would be open at 8.30 in the morning—I have the keys of the warehouse and no one else—Mr. Lansdell's men hold the keys of the gates, and have access to the yard—the warehouse is inside the gates.
SAMUEL WATERS . I am superintendent of the Leather Market, Long Lane—I am generally called at 6 o'clock, and open the gates of the market at 6.30 for thoroughfare—but no business is supposed to be carried on in the Hop warehouses before 8 o'clock.
THOMAS ARDELL (Policeman M 150). I kept observation on the premises in Long Lane on the night between the 24th and 25th February, from 12 o'clock till 5.45—no one entered the gates—I left at 5.45, and was relieved by Detective Le Warne.
DAVID JOHN LE WARNE (Detective Officer W.) On the morning of the 25th February, in company with a man named Merritt, I watched the Hop warehouse in Stable Street, Long Lane, from 5.45—about 6.15 I saw the prisoner open the side door leading into the yard, and go into the yard—he remained there till 6.45—he then came to the door leading to the yard and looked up and down the street—he went back again, and in about five
minutes he came out and shut the door, and went to the Rose and Crown public-house in Long Lane—he remained there a few minutes—he came out and went past the corner of Staple Street to a passage by the Valentine and Orson in Long Lane, which leads into Weston Place—he looked behind him from time to time—he went about half way up the passage and turned back, turning to the left through Long Lane into Weston Street—he turned down Short Street and I then stopped him, and said from information we thought there was going to be a robbery committed at that Hop ware-house, and were watching that place—I said "What are you loitering about here for"—he said "I am not loitering about, I came here to see whether the warehouse was open," meaning Mr. Morris's warehouse in the skin market—I said "Where do you work"—he said "Down a yard"—I said "What yard"—he said "In a yard in Staple Street"—I said "Show me"—we walked together from Short Street to the yard in Staple Street—he unlocked the door, and inside the door in the yard was the safe on a costermonger's barrow—the safe was broken—I said to the prisoner "How came this here"—he said "I know nothing of it"—I then tried the locks of the Hop warehouse and found them all secure—I traced the wheels of the barrow from the front gates to a shed about 150 yards along the yard—the door of the shed was locked—I said to the prisoner "Who has the key of this shed"—he said "I have"—he went to the stable and got the key—I found the barrow had been wheeled into the shed, and a truss of straw was broken where the safe had been placed—I opened the inside lining of the safe, and there I found ten books and certain papers, and I found that the safe had been stolen on the 26th from the Ale Stores.
Prisoner's Defence. I came to see if the market gates were open—the keys of the stable, the keys of the shed, and the gate, are all kept on the premises except the market gate, and we each had a key of the wicket so that we could get in—I went straight down the street and went to the gate and I was going home to breakfast as I was ordered out at 8 o'clock—I turned down Short Street because it was my nearest way through—I know nothing about the safe and books.
The Prisoner received a a good character.
— NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
326. BENJAMIN ADAMS (31) , Feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John William Parkins, and stealing therein a clock and bible, his property.—Second Count—Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. GRAIN conducted the. Prosecution; and MR. BUCK the Defence.
WILLIAM PARKINS . I am a stationer, and live at 14, Kirkwood Road, Peckham—on the evening of the 11th March, I went home about 7.15—the window was then perfectly safe, and I saw the clock and the bible in the room—about 7.40, or 7.45, they were gone.
JOHN NEWMAN . I keep the Britannia beerhouse in Clifton Street, Bethnal Green—on Thursday, the 12th March last, the prisoner brought this large bible to my house—he offered it me for sale—I declined to purchase—I went out for a little while and on my return I found this clock in a conspicuous place in the bar—in the evening prisoner came and asked me to purchase the clock and I declined—he stayed in my house till nearly twelve o'clock at night, and then he asked me "If I would allow the clock to remain until next day"—I said "Yes," and I allowed it to remain—on the following morning, Friday, a friend of mine came in, I spoke to him—he went out
for the prosecutor and came back with him—he identified the clock, and immediately went to the station—a policeman came.
Cross-examined. I had known the prisoner twelve months as a customer—I did not buy the bible from him, but I paid him for it—there was a man with him, I believed to be his brother when he brought the clock—I do not know that his brother is a dealer—I believe the prisoner is a glass-cutter and toy maker—I have known him at least a year as a respectable man.
GEORGE COOPER (Detective Officer H.) On Friday, 13th March, I went to Mr. Newman's house, and remained some time in his bar parlour, prisoner came in—I slipped out of the parlour and when he saw me he ran out of the door—I pursued him for nearly a quarter-of-a-mile, and I got almost exhausted—he was stopped by a young man and I took him—he was charged at Peckham police station at first and refused to give any address—afterwards he gave the name of Benjamin Adams, and next morning of Benjamin Thomas—I found the bible produced at Mr. Symons's house in Hackney Road.
Cross-examined. When I was before the magistrate I said I tried to lay hold of the prisoner as he was going out by the door, but he was too much in advance of me—he did not tell me his name was Benjamin Thomas Adams—I searched him and found 8s. 9d. upon him—I did not search his house or lodgings because I did not know where it was—he would not give any address.
Cross-examined. I deal in unredeemed pledges and various sorts of things—he told me it was no use to him—it was wrapped in brown paper when he brought it.
Prisoner. I did not know that the goods were stolen, and I should not have left them two days in a public bar if I had thought so.
GUILTY on the Second Count.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MILLWOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRIFFITHS the Defence.
HENRY GREEN . I am a labourer, and live at 1, Pear Tree Street, Lambeth—on Saturday night, the 21st March last, I was in the prisoner's company in a little beer-shop at the corner of Pear Tree Street—I went after some biscuits for a gentleman, and when I came back she was drinking with another man—he went out, and I said "You had better go along with that man for good"—words ensued, and I left her—next Sunday I saw her and would not speak to her—on the Monday she came running up to me, just as I was going to step on to brewer's dray, and struck a knife into my shoulder—I saw the knife—this is it (produced)—it is my own knife—I have lost it now for sometime—there was no person at all there when she stabbed me—she ran away afterwards—I was taken to the police station and my wounds were attended to.
Cross-examined. I do not work for anybody now—it is about six months since I did any work—I have known this young woman a long time—she lives with her father, and is a very hard working girl—for the last six months she has not been supporting
me—she has given me money for a bit of bacca several times—on my oath I have not gone to her house and demanded money from her—she has given me money, but not at her house—I have been to her house and asked her to come out with me—I never beat her because she has not given me money, but I own I have hit her—I was what they call courting her—I do not know whether she wanted to get rid of me—I have never threatened to be the death or her if she did not give me money—I did not stab her on the 7th March—I caught her with my left knuckle on the eye, and it raised this lump, as you see—I do not know whether she had to go to the hospital for it—I was sorry for what I had done to her afterwards—it was one Saturday night when I cut her in the eye about a fortnight or three weeks before she stabbed me—we had been together before she stabbed me all right and quiet—I had not knocked her down and kicked her that day—it was on a Saturday when I struck her—she came in to row with me—I had not said before the affair happened "If she did not give me money I would knock her down"—I do not know whether there was a woman named Donohoo there at the time—I was going out of the beershop when it was done—I will swear I did not knock her down with the knife in my hand and fall upon her—she did not catch hold of me and I dropped the knife from my hand—I swore before the magistrates that there was a gentleman present, but there was no woman.
JAMES DELAHUNT (Policeman L 218). On Monday, 23rd March, I was on duty near the Victoria Theatre, Lambeth—I saw the prisoner throw a knife away, and I pursued her—she stopped when I got within about a dozen yards of her, and picked it up again 'and closed a blade—she had the knife in her left hand when I took her—she said she wished she had cut his throat.
Cross-examined. The gentleman was not before the Magistrate—there was a great crowd of persons there at the time, and I do not know who he was.
THOMAS MALCOLM DONAHOO . I am a surgeon in Blackfriars Road—on 23rd March I was called to the police-station to see the prosecutor—I found him suffering from a contused wound on the shoulder, which might have been inflicted by this knife.
Cross-examined. It was not a very severe wound, but it was a deep cut, extending to the bone, and he lost a great deal of blood—he is getting better now—habits of drinking would not tend to improve the wound.
The Prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 4TH MAY, 1874.