CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
ELEVENTH SESSION, HELD SEPTEMBER 21ST, 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 Monday, September 21st, 1874, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR ANDREW LUSK , BART., M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir GEORGE WILSHIRE BRAMWELL, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir RICHARD PAUL AMPHLETT , Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE , Knt., Alderman of the said City; The Right Hon., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir THOMAS WYATT TRUSCOTT, Knt., JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., and HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; and Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
Sir CHARLES WHETHAM, Knt., Alderman.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
LUSK, MAYOR. ELEVENTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, September 21st, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WEATHERFIELD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
SARAH PITTENDREIGH . I am the widow of Mr. Pittendreigh, who was a solicitor's clerk—he died a year ago last May—the prisoner is my sister—she married Mr. Studholme—they separated in July, 1873—she left him twice, the last time was in July—at that time he had a large house in Myddleton Square—he gave that up—at Christmas time I took a house at 26, Cadogan Terrace—I have lived for many years on the same estate—Mr. Studholme came into the house at the same time I did, and he is lodging there still—he does not pay me so much a week now, because he is a ruined man—he will pay me ultimately, I hope—he agreed to pay me so much a week—two nights after I went into the house the prisoner came there with a mob of about 300 persons, and told them that I was living with her husband, and that I was the cause of his leaving her and she threatened that she would not stop till she had put me in the workhouse and that I and my daughter, aged 16, got our living by immorality—shortly after that I received a number of letters from her, sometimes two a day for. months—this the one of 31st December—it is the prisoner's writing. (This was addressed "Mrs. Pittrendreigh, living with J. Studholme, the Tichborns forger, 26, Cadogan Place, South Hackney, near French Hospital." It commenced "You vile wretch" and accused the witness of perjury, forgery, and adultery.) This is a letter of 7th January, received by my landlady—none of the letters are signed or dated—this is the prisoner's writing—there is not the slightest truth in the statement there made—it is a most atrocious falsehood.
Cross-examined. It is not true that I am living in adultery with John Studholme; there is not the slightest foundation for such a charge—a son of Studholme's was living at Myddleton Square; I was then managing his
affairs for him when his wife left him—the boy did not come into his father's room one morning and find me in bed with his father, and mistake me for his mother and say how glad he was to see his mother back again; this is the first I have heard of it—Studholme did not swear and send him from the house—I was not receiving relief from the Hackney Union before the separation of the prisoner and Studholme; I was, at the death of my husband; he had been ill for four years, and I had six children, and I had no one gaining a shilling for me, and our doctor, seeing us suffering in silent poverty, sent the parochial authorities—when I went to Myddleton Square, I took my children—we went there on 7th August, and he let the house and left it on New Year's Day this year—I was there the whole time, and managed the house very well for him—I removed from there to Cadogan Terrace, where I now am with Mr. Studholme; we are all living in one house, my son, aged twenty, my daughter, seventeen, down to my little girl, three years old—Mr. Studholme was a clerk to Messrs. Routledge—he left and was ill for two months and I nursed him, and he has not been to a situation since—I did not throw dirty water over the prisoner, nor did her husband in my presence, or rotten eggs—I never saw him use any violence to her—I applied to a Magistrate at Worship Street for a summons, on these libels; I also summoned her when she came and broke my window, but I withdrew that summons and wrote to my father to keep her quiet, as I did not wish to punish her—I have been summoned there myself once by her friend, Mrs. Pearce; that was after I had applied for these summonses, and they knew I should prosecute—I have not been a defendant at Worship Street on any other occasion—the Magistrate did not refuse to grant me a summons for these letters, he granted it; he did not go into the inquiry—he was to appoint a day to hear it and send to let me know—I did not hear, and I went to the Court, and the Chief Clerk advised me to proceed by indictment, as that would be quicker and cheaper, and I took his advice, and they returned me the money I had paid for the summons—I was not the only person who went before the Grand Jury; there was the lady who she wrote the second letter to—Mr. Studholme was not with me when I was preferring the indictment—he did not know that I was going to do it; he begged me not to it—I did not subpoena him to prove his wife's handwriting—I subpœnaed him as an important witness against Pearce, who is here on another charge of libel—I did not subpoena him here last sessions; he was not in the building with me before I went before the Grand Jury—I met him here; we did not come together—I subpœnaed him because I would not trust to his coming, for all through he wanted not to appear in the case; he was broken down about my prosecuting his wife—he did not come down to Court with me to-day—my daughter and I came by train; he was here before us—I don't know how he came; he has been married to my sister eleven years—I have known him off and on the whole of that time, but for seven years previous to my going into the house I had not spoken to him.—my sister and I were brought up together, and after I was married I went back and lived with my family for years in Granville Square, where they now live, and she has lived with, me at different times—we have been on friendly terms up to the time she and her husband separated and after—he was by deed to allow her 1l. a week—there have been many orders made against him for payment; he paid up to the time he fell ill and did not earn any more—the furniture was not seized and claimed by me: it
was seized by Hollingsworth, who had a bill of sale on it, and I borrowed money and redeemed it—I have not been a witness many times in the superior Courts; I can't tell how often; I think once or twice—I have no recollection of being a witness at the Middlesex Sessions in 1864 on an appeal case—yes, I remember it; a man named Hawkins was convicted of exposure to children outside Harvey's shop at Knightsbridge—I did not swear that I had seen those children behaving indecently; I was taken there to speak the truth, and I did to the letter—the children did not swear that I was not on the spot at all; they admitted that what I said was the truth—I was a witness at Maidstone on the trial of a man for perjury in swearing he was in a railway accident at Ludgate Hill; he was convicted—I gave evidence for the defence—the Judge did not say he had a great mind to send me for trial—I did not make facsimile copies of four of the Claimant's letters; I did copy the letters he sent to me before I parted with thorn, and I have got the copies at home—I did not make fac. similes and represent t them to be originals—I did not trace the name on glass with tracing paper—I did not give up two letters on the receipt of 20l. and keep two; I never received a farthing from either side—I gave up two letters which the convict wrote to me offering me a bribe; to Mr. Dobbinson; before parting with them I wrote my name across them, and any letters bearing my signature—I will stake my life are genuine—I have been charged with stealing a watch, and honourably acquitted; it was at Clerkenwell; I was taken in mistake for another party—I was not charged with stealing fowls: a fowl that I had, one of 300 that I kept, was claimed by a sister-in-law of the convict Orton under an assumed name—this letter (produced) is my writing, addressed to my father; also these three letters.
MR. BESLEY did not address the Jury far the defence, as he could not justify the libels. The Recorder. "The only question is, whether these letters are libellous? I cannot suggest a doubt as to that, and no defence is offered." The Jury, however, found the defendant
NOT GUILTY .
371. HENRY ROBERT WOODGATE (18) , to stealing a post letter containing two 5l. Bank of England notes, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster General— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
372. HENRY JAMES LOVE (46) , to two indictments for embezzling various sums of 2l. each, of John Frederick Wieland, his master— Twelve Month's Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
373. THOMAS LUNN (30) , to stealing fifty-six pairs of gloves and twenty pairs of socks and other articles of John Hudson — Twelve Months' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. METCALFE, Q. C., and Mr. Slade conducted the Prosecution.
Office I made up, on the 19th August, this letter addressed to Mr. W. Watts, 3, Elliott's Row, Much Adam, Ware, Hertfordshire (produced)—I enclosed in it a sovereign and a ten franc piece—I marked those coins, and having enclosed them, fastened the envelope and took the letter to the Post Office in Chancery Lane—I registered it in the ordinary way at 6.45 in the evening—it would be collected at Chancery Lane that evening and would be taken to the Western Central Office where it would lay till the following morning and be despatched and received at the Head Office about 5 o'clock—the prisoner was on duty at the Head Office Registered Letter Branch he was employed there on the 25th August—after the letter was received at the Head Office a receipt would be sent from the Head Office with the letter and that receipt would be sorted instead of the letter—the tab would be torn off the receipt and it would be the prisoner's duty to present that tab to the officer who held the letter, and upon the production of that tab the letter would be handed over to him. and finally despatched in the letter bag for Ware—the receipt and tab are made out at the Western Central Office, and sent on with the letter to the General Office—the letter is retained by the head officer there and the slip is sent in to be sorted by the ordinary sorters and the prisoner would bring it to the head officer who has possession of the letter, and gives up this tab as the receipt for it—the would then enter it on the letter bill for Ware and he should enclose the letter with others in the registered letter bag for Ware—it would be his duty to see the bag properly tied and sealed, and take it to the Inland Branch—it would be the prisoner's duty to make up the bag. that morning—about 7.30 that morning I went to the Inland Branch of the General Office, and examined the Ware registered letter bag—it had been made up and sealed at that time—I opened it and found this letter torn in the way it is now, with the exception of being cut open at the top—there was an opening in the side the same as there is now, which was large enough for a coin to come through—I opened the letter in order to ascertain what was in it—the ten franc piece was still in the letter, and the sovereign was missing—I went into the Registered Letter Office where I shortly afterwards saw the prisoner come in—I took him into a private room and said "Did you make up the registered letter bag for Ware?"—he replied "Yes"—I said "I wish to speak to you about a letter," at the same time producing this letter—"I said, "Did you make up this for Ware this morning?'—he said "It looks like the one I had"—I said "This letter is mine, I enclosed a sovereign and another coin in the letter before it was registered and upon examining the bag and taking the letter out I find the sovereign has been abstracted from this letter, do you know anything about it?"—he said "No"—he was then searched by Police Constable Moore—I saw him take the sovereign from one of his pockets—it was loose—he also took other monies which were in a purse from another pocket—I then said to the prisoner "Where did you get that sovereign?"—he said "I brought it from home this morning to pay 30s. for which I have been summoned at Guildhall"—I said "How long have you had the sovereign?"—he replied "Three or four days"—I then took the sovereign from the desk where it had been lying, and examined it and said "This is the sovereign which I identify as the one which I enclosed in the letter which I have spoken to you about, it bears my private marks—he replied "I know nothing about any marks, as I do not examine coin when I receive it"—the prisoner was then given into custody—he said "I hope you don't think I stole the sovereign,
MR. STEVENS"—I replied "What else can I think, as the sovereign has been found in your pocket V
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. A letter posted at 7 o'clock in the evening in Chancery Lane would pass through the hands of two or three persons t hat evening—the address of the letter is entered in a book and the letter is kept till the next morning, when it would pass through another officer's hands at the West Central Office, and at the Chief Office, before it came into your possession it would pass through another officer's hands—it would be his duty to check the address of the letter and see that it was secure—it was your duty to sign the tab, and on the production of the tab the letter would be handed over to you—after the letters were enclosed in the bags you were responsible for them, and you would use your own discretion whether you would pass them to an assistant to seal them—it is your duty to see that they are sealed—for your own security you would do that—I received the bag about 7.20—I don't wish to swear that the contents of that letter were safe when it went into your hands—you would have an opportunity of mutilating a letter, as you have done in this case—each officer is looking after himself and has his; own duty to do—the assistant superintendent was in his desk when I went in to see you—you did not hesitate when I asked you whether you despatched the letter for Ware that morning; you hesitated about the letter and said it looked like the letter—you said you could not swear to that letter, but you had despatched one to the same address—I directed the officer to search you and you did not object in any way—I took the sovereign up from the desk after you had said you had had it in your possession three or four days, and told you I identified it as the coin I had put in that letter—I said the sovereign was marked, and you said when you took money you did not look to see if it was marked—I did not show you the mark—I did not tell you the letter contained marked money until I took possession of the money—I showed you where I expected the sovereign had come out of the envelope—many letters pass through the office with envelopes broken, but it is the duty of each despatching officer to examine those letters and see that they are intact before they pass through his hands—you asked me just now, with regard to mutilated letters, in each case those letters had passed through your hands, they had also passed through the hands of other people.
JAMES CLIFFORD . I am assistant sorter in the registered letter room at the Chief Office—it is my duty when a registered letter comes in to hold it until the tab is given to me—on 20th of August I held this letter in my possession, and this tab was delivered to me signed by the prisoner—I delivered the letter to the prisoner in exchange for the tab—the bag was opened by me at 5 o'clock in the morning, and it would be between that and 7 o'clock that I handed the letter to the prisoner—when he had received it it would be his duty to make up the bag and place that letter in the bag—when I delivered the letter to him it was entire—I examined it and it was perfect—there were no such holes as there are now.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I always examine the letters before I give them in exchange for the tabs.
MATTHEW MOORE . I am a constable attached to the post-office—I searched the prisoner and found in his left hand trousers pocket the sovereign which I showed to Mr. Stevens—I found some silver besides.
Cross-examined. I don't think the whole of the money was in one pocket—you were about to put your hand in your pocket when Mr. Stevens told
me to search you—you did not object to being searched—I placed the sovereign on the table when I took it out of your pocket and Mr. Stevens took it up—I searched your home but found nothing to indicate theft.
By the Jury. When Mr. Stevens took up the sovereign he said it was the one he had enclosed in the letter and it bore his private mark.
The Prisoner in his defence asserted his innocence and slated that he had received the sovereign in exchange for silver at a fruiterer's shop some three or four days before.
GUILTY — Six Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Monday, September 21st, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
376. THOMAS CARTER (25) , Embezzling the sums of 10l. 19s. 3d., 10l. 0s. 6d., 3l. 12s. 6d., and 7l. 18s. 1d. of George Isaac Goyder and another his masters; also feloniously forging an endorsement on the cheque for 10l. 0s. 6d. upon which Mr. Grain for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT. GUILTY .
JOHN WELLAN (Policeman R R 6). I produce a certificate of the conviction of Charles Roberts—I was present at the trial—the prisoner is the man. (Read: "Central Criminal Court, November. 1870, Charles Roberts convicted of uttering counterfeit coin having other counterfeit coin in his possession. Sentence, Eighteen Months' Imprisonment") He was in my custody and I was a witness against him.
GUILTY**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FRITH the Defence.
ELLEN VODHAM . I am the wife of John Vodham who keeps the Black Horse, Oxendon Street—on Tuesday, 1st September, between 1 and 2 o'clock I served the prisoner with 3d. worth of brandy—he gave me a florin—I gave him the change, and after he left I bent it and found it was bad—I had not put it in the till—I sent the potman after him and he brought him back—my husband had fetched a policeman and I charged the prisoner with passing a bad florin—he said that he had not and that I had never seen him before I had seen him on the previous Saturday but cannot recollect what he had, and also on the Monday between 1 and 2 o'clock, when I served him with a glass of stout and mild ale—he gave me a florin which I put in the till—no other florin was there—my husband cleared the till at 6 o'clock when he took charge of the bar and no one but me had served up to 6 o'clock—I saw him clear the till and the only florin there was bad.
Cross-examined. We have a good many customers from 10 to 2 o'clock, but Monday is a very quiet day.
Re-examined. I have no doubt that the prisoner is the man who came in on Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday—I know him by his dress.
JOHN VODHAM . On 1st September I was called and found the potman holding the prisoner—my wife said "Here he is," and accused him of passing a florin, and of having been there the day before—he said that it was the only bad coin he had ever had in his life—I ran and fetched a policeman—
I had cleared the till at 6 o'clock on 31st August, the day before, and found in. it only one florin and that was bad; I put it in my pocket and gave the two florins together to the policeman on September 1st.
Cross-examined. I have no assistants except a potman.
WILLIAM FOSTER (Policeman C 115). On 1st September I was called and Mr. Vodham charged the prisoner with uttering a counterfeit florin—he said he must be mistaken for some other person—I searched him and found on him three shillings, two sixpences, and three pence—when he was first taken he gave his name as Anderson, but at the station he said that it was Johnson, 37, Rahere Street, Goswell Road.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSES. CRAUFURD and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN KRAPPER . I am a licensed victualler of 4, Redgate Court, Minories—on 18th August between 2 and 3 p.m. I served the prisoner with worth of gin—he put down a shilling—I gave him the change, and two or three minutes after he left I took the shilling out of the till and found it was bad—there was no other shilling there—the prisoner came again the next day for 1/2 oz. of tobacco, which came to 2d.—he also asked for 1 1/2 d. worth of gin—I saw that he was the same person who was there the day before—he gave me a bad shilling—I caught hold of him, and said "You were here yesterday and paid me a bad shilling"—he said "No, I never was in your place at all"—I marked the shillings and gave them to the constable—he was dressed the first day as he is now, but he had a white apron on, and on the second occasion, though he did not show it, the prosecutor found a white apron on him.
Prisoner. Q. Did, not you say that you had chucked the first coin away? A. Yes, but I remembered where I had thrown it, and when the prosecutor told me to look for it I found it—I had marked it before I threw it away.
WILLIAM LEWIS . On 8th August between 6 and 7, p.m. I was in the bar of the Clerkenwell Tavern, and saw the prisoner come in—he asked for half a pint of ale, took three or four shillings out of his pocket, and picked out a bad one for me—I gave it to Mr. Day, who told him it was bad.
ALFRED STEWART DAY . I am manager of the Clerkenwell Tavern—on 8th August the prisoner came in, and the lad served him—he tendered a shilling—the boy tried it between his teeth, and said "I am afraid this is a bad shilling"—I went to the prisoner and said "Do you know that this is bad?"—he threw down a good shilling, and received 101d. back—as I went round the bar he snatched up his change and ran out, and met a man—something passed between them, and he then went up Wood Street—I went to meet him at the other end and met a constable, to whom I pointed the prisoner out, and he was then taken to Clerkenwell Police Court, remanded, and discharged, as the Mint authorities said that it was his first offence.
MR. WEBSTER. These three shillings are bad.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCES WITHEY . My husband keeps the Railway Tavern, Lower Edmonton—on 26th August the prisoners came in together, and Nixon called for a pint of four half and some tobacco, which came to 4d.—he threw down a florin—I told him that it was bad—he said "Well give it to back again"—I said "No, I shall not do that"—I gave it to my husband, who sent for the police—Thompson said "Let us pay for the beer between us if they will give us the money back"—I kept the florin, and my husband gave them in custody.
RICHARD WITHEY . I am landlord of the Railway Tavern, Lower Edmonton—on 26th of August my wife brought me a florin and I ran out, got a constable, and gave the prisoners in custody—Thompson said "If you don't give me the bad florin back, you may deface it if you like, I will see you b——before I pay for the beer and tobacco"—I gave it to the constable.
EMMA HISCOKE . My husband keeps the Crown and Auchor, Edmonton, not far from the Railway Tavern—on 26th of August, about 5 o'clock, the prisoners came in and Nixon asked for half a pint of half-and-half, which came to 2d.—whilst I was drawing it a florin was put down and Nixon picked the change up—they then said they would have some gin—I did not discover that it was bad till after they left.
ROBERT ARTHUR HISCOKE . I am landlord of the Crown and Anchor, Edmonton—on 26th of August my wife gave me a florin, which I marked and gave to the police—I went to the till both before and after, and there was no florin there.
JOSEPH WISEMAN . I am painter of Edmonton—on 26th of August I was in the Crown and Horseshoes, which is between the other two houses—the prisoners and another man came in and had some beer, which they drank and paid for in coppers.
BENJAMIN FAIRALL (Detective Officer). On 26th August I received information at the Railway Tavern and received this florin from Mr. Withey—I took Nixon—he said that he received the florin from his master, but next day he said that he took it of a cocoa-nut man—I received this other florin from Mr. Hiscoke, it was marked.
CHARLES GREEN (Policeman Y 441). I took Thompson—he said that he met Nixon, who asked him to go in and he would treat him to a pint of beer and produced a bad florin to pay and if he had known it he would not have been in his company, but he had been with him all day—one penny was found on him.
Nixon's Defence. I did not know it was bad.
THOMPSON was further charged with a previous conviction in March,
1873, and NIXON with a previous conviction in April, 1873, to which they both
PLEADED GUILTY— Nine Months' Imprisonment each.
The Jury being unable to agree they were discharged without giving any verdict, and the case was tried on the following day. (See page 336.)
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, September 22nd, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
383. HENRY THOMAS** (72) , to stealing a brass plate affixed to a dwelling-house, the property of Joseph Redhouse; having been before convicted in April, 1866— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. SAFFORD conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES KENISTON (City Detective). On Tuesday, 1st of September, I was on Tower Hill with Halse, and saw the two prisoners and a man not in custody about three o'clock in the afternoon—I saw a cart there—Sweeney went to the tail part of the cart and took this glass case containing a stuffed bird, from behind and put it under his coat—he then ran across into Rosemary Lane, followed by Sullivan and the other man—we followed them some little distance, and then Sweeney gave it to Sullivan, and Sullivan put it underneath his coat—just before they got to Dock Street, Sullivan gave it back to Sweeney again, and they went into the Star public-house in Dock Street—I followed and took Sullivan into custody and Halse took Sweeney—Sullivan said "What do you want me for, I have not done anything"—I brought him into the bar, and Sweeney said he knew nothing about it: he had not seen it before—after we got to the police-station he said he gave 8d. for it, to a man who was going hop picking—I went on to Tower Hill, but the horse and cart were gone. "
DANIEL HALSE (City Detective.) I was with Keniston on Tower Hill, and saw the two prisoners and another man—I saw Sweeney go behind a cart that was standing there, and take this case out and run across into Rosemary Lane, followed by Sullivan and the other man—when in Rosemary Lane Sweeney gave it to Sullivan who put it under his coat and carried it some distance—I followed them to the corner of Dock Street where Sullivan gave it back to Sweeney and they all three went into a public-house—I spoke to a uniform man, and we went into the public-house—the other man made a rush out—I caught hold of Sweeney—he pushed the case under the seat in the bar.—I said "I want you"—he said "What for?"—I said "You will be charged with two other men with stealing this case from a cart on Tower Hill"—he said—"I never saw it before"—I took him to the station and when the charge was read over to him by the inspector, he said "I bought it for 8d. of a man who was going hopping."
SWEENEY also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in 1872**— Seven Years Penal Servitude. SULLIVAN*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY on the Second Count — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, September 22nd, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
386. CHARLES STEWART (33) , PLEADED GUILTY to five indictments for stealing watch chains, guards, and earrings, of Jeremiah Weldon and others, his masters, who recommended him to mercy— Judgment respited.
387. HENRY WOOD** (16) , to feloniously forging and uttering a request for the delivery of three colour boxes, and to forging an order for the payment of 13l. 14s. 6d. with intent to defraud, having been before convicted— Two Years' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
388. GEORGE SPENCER (25), and JAMES OFFORD (23) , to breaking and entering the warehouse of Patrick May Kennedy and stealing therein 1800 yards of silk, Spencer having been before convicted in September, 1873.
SPENCER— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
OFFORD— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and.DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; MR. McCLYMOND the Defence. (See Page 335.)
FRANCES MARSH . I am the wife of James Marsh, of 22, Orchard Street—on 28th August a woman came in for a pennyworth of acid drops, and tendered a shilling to my little girl—I sent the girl out to get it changed—she came back with it in her hand and I found that it was bad—Armitage came in and broke it in half—the woman had it back and tied it up in a corner of her handkerchief—I declined to prosecute her.
FANNY MARSH . I help my mother in the shop—a woman came in for some acid drops, and my mother sent me to get change for a shilling—I I went to Mr. Robinson who gave it back to me and I gave it to my mother.
JAMES ABBOTT . I am potman at the Royal George, Orchard Street, Ball's Pond; about 200 yards from Marsh's shop—on 28th August, about 4 p.m., I saw the prisoner at the top of Orchard Street talking to a woman for two or three minutes, and I saw the same woman in Mrs. Marsh's shop five or ten minutes afterwards—I saw Armitage, the policeman, there.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the prisoner or the woman before—I recognise him simply because he stood talking there—I have not the least doubt that the prisoner is the man.
EDWARD ARMITAGE (Policeman N 547.) On 28th August a complaint was made to me, and I went to Mrs. Marsh's shop and saw a woman there—a complaint was made to me—I left the woman there in a constable's charge and went to Mrs. Robins, shop where the prisoner was pointed out to me—I said to him "I want you to go down the street, I want to speak to you"—he said "Me, sir?" I said "Yes," took him to Mrs. Marsh's shop and asked him if he knew the woman who I had left there—he said "No, I never saw her in my life before"—I then asked her if she knew him—she said "No"—
I asked the prisoner if he had anything on him—he said "No"—I searched him and found 10s. or 11s. and some tobacco—Mrs. Marsh declined to prosecute—I do not know whether they went away together, but shortly after they left, the boy Weyman gave me this florin.
Cross-examined. He did not run away; the money he had was good—I do not know where the woman is; I have not searched for her, as the case was not in my hands.
Re-examined. Although Mrs. Marsh declined to prosecute, I should-have taken the woman up if the coin had arrived two minutes earlier.
HENRY WEYMAN . I was fourteen last May, and live with my mother at 2, Cross Street, Ball's Pond—on 28th August, about 4.5, Mrs. Robinson sent me for a constable, and as I was going, I saw the prisoner in Orchard Street—I am sure of him—he went round by Wall Street, and I saw him. stoop down by Mrs. Saunders' gateway and put something-down-in the corner; he then covered what he had put there over with, dirt—I fetched a policeman, who went to Mrs. Marsh's shop—five or six minutes afterwards I went to the gateway and found a florin and two shillings, which. I gave to the policeman—one of the shillings was wrapped in yellow paper, and the other was loose.
Cross-examined. I have not talked over this matter with, the policeman; I have with the solicitor in charge of the case—I had never seen the prisoner before—I do not know where he lives; he is a perfect stranger to me—Mrs. Robinson had pointed him out as the man who had been with the woman, and it was after that that I saw him at the gateway.
Re-examined. I am sure he is the man I saw at the gateway.
JOHN GOODWIN (Policeman N 21). On 28th August, about 4.30 or 5 o'clock, I went to the Royal William, saw. the prisoner, and told him I was going to take him in custody for being concerned with a female-in attempting to utter a counterfeit shilling—he said that he had no counterfeit coin in his possession, and that he was not in the company of any female—he said outside the public-house, "This is the second time I have been up for the same thing; once in the City."
Cross-examined. I do not know where the woman is; I have not searched for her—the prisoner did not resist—he gave his address 17, Dean Street, Holborn—I went there with another constable on Thursday night, and a person came to the door and said that no such person lived there—I do not know that letters have come to him in Newgate from 17, Dean Street—the evidence I have given to-day is the same as I gave yesterday as far as I can. recollect—I said yesterday that the boy when he saw the prisoner in custody said, "That is the man"—I did not say that to the Police Magistrate—that was said in the prisoner's presence loud enough for him to hear—the boy was with Armitage—Mrs. Robinson is not here; I know where she lives.
Re-examined. I have never searched for the woman, because I do not know her.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. DE MICHELE and ARETAS YOUNG conducted the Prosecution.
—on 31st August, about 4.45, I served the prisoner with 2d. worth of gin—he gave me a florin; I told him it was bad—he pulled out a good one and told me to take it out of that—I refused, and gave the florin to the policeman; I had not parted with it.
GEORGE CLAXTON (Policeman E 186). On 31st August I was called to the Swakley Arms, and the last witness gave the prisoner into my custody with this florin—I found on him a florin, a shilling, a sixpence, and 5 1/2 d., all good.
Prisoner. There was three halfpence and two shillings in my pocket, and then I received the small money in change for the good florin.
EDMUND HILLIER . I keep a refreshment house in Blackfriars Road—on 17th July, between 12 and 1 o'clock, I served the prisoner with a twopenny pie—he gave me a bad half-crown, and when I said it was bad he shammed drunkenness, and said that he did not want anything—I gave him in custody with the coin.
Prisoner. I walked out, and you met me in the Blackfriars Road and gave me in charge. A. I caught you in Upper Ground Street, and gave you in charge of my man while I got a policeman.
WILLIAM GODDARD (Policeman L 40). On 17th July I took the prisoner.—he was taken before a Magistrate at Southwark, remanded till 22nd July, and discharged—I received this half-crown from Mr. Hillier, and marked it—I found on the prisoner a good half-crown and three halfpence.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "At 4.45 I went in the public-house and called for two of gin cold, I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out a 2s. piece which I placed down. The barmaid picked it up with her right hand and went in the parlour, where she was with the other barmaid four or five minutes. She came back, went to a cupboard in front of the bar and opened it with her right hand, then put her left hand in, shuffled some money, and shut the door again with her right hand; then she came to me and said 'This is a bad two-shilling piece young man,' I said 'Why didn't you tell me so in the first place? She made no answer. I said 'If I have taken it it was in a mistake either out of half-a-sovereign or half-a-crown, you must not think I get my living at it;' she said 'I don't say you do.' Upon this I took out my pocket-book and showed her pawn tickets for my watch and rings which I had pawned to keep myself while out of employment. Then she went to the parlour door again and sent for a police constable, and I remained in the bar ten or twelve minutes before he came."
Prisoner's Defence. I am guilty of passing it, but I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FRITH the Defence.
JOHN WRIGHT . I am a seaman, and am staying at Statham Place in the East End—on 12th August I was in a beer-shop in Dean Street, Commercial Road—I was at the bar and the prisoner was in the tap room, using
very bad language—I told him to hold his noise as there were two young women there—about ten minutes afterwards he came out and began calling me very bad names—I shoved him on the arm and told him to go away—he went out and Vincent went after him and holloaed out "I am stabbed"—I went out and caught the prisoner by the back of his collar and saw Vincent leaning against a post with his hand on his hip—the prisoner tried to stab me, and said "Let me go"—I said "I shan't," and he holloaed out and gave a blow at my ribs and stabbed me, but I did not see any knife—I did not feel it at first, but afterwards I found that I had been stabbed—I let go, and he went away—I was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. This was at about 11.10, p.m.—the prisoner had had a tray selling sweets but he had sold them all—I did not take them out of the tray and throw them at him—I pushed him when he went outside the door—I had had no quarrel with him—I never struck the prisoner nor did Vincent—I have been in England nine or ten weeks this time; I was born here—I have never been summoned or charged with an assault.
DANIEL MACK . I am a costermonger of 9, Star Street, Commercial Road—I was in this beer-house on 10th August—Vincent halloaed out "I am stabbed" and I ran out and saw Wright and the prisoner struggling—I saw the prisoner stab Wright in his side but I saw no knife.
Cross-examined. I find that he has been in custody for felony, but the charge was withdrawn.
GEORGE HURMAN . I was house-surgeon at the London Hospital—Wright was brought there—he had a wound on the lower part of his chest on the left side, which went through the lungs into the abdominal cavity, and part of his bowels were protruding—this knife might have caused the wound—it was very dangerous, but he is perfectly well now.
JOHN VINCENT . I was at the public-house—I saw the prisoner go out after Wright had given him a push—I followed him directly—he said to Wright "Come along round the corner," and he laid hold of me and stabbed me—Wright ran and seized him by the collar, and he said "Jack I am served the same"—I had not attacked him at all.
Cross-examined. I was not quarrelling with him in the public-house—he asked us to go outside—he did not invite us to go out to fight—he said "Come round the corner," and then he attacked me directly.
GUILTY of Unlawfully Wounding — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK ALDRIDGE . I am manager to James William Benson, 58, Ludgate Hill—the prisoner has been in his employ since January—he left three weeks ago, and I met him last Thursday at the corner of Sutton Street, when he said that he had done something he was sorry for, and handed me duplicates for five watches—he went with me to Mr. Benson, who gave him in custody.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I ask you as a favour, to come with me and get them out. A. You said if I would go with you to some place in the Borough you thought you could get the money to redeem the watches,
but I said "No"—if you had not told me this I should have found it out the following week—I said that it might have gone on till Christmas, because if you had continued with the firm I should have had no suspicion—I had to discharge you for being drunk, it had occurred twice, and I told you that if it occurred again I would discharge you without any warning.
Re-examined. I did not threaten him in any way.
HENRY EYLES . I am assistant to Smith and Dymond, pawnbrokers, of Newgate Street—this watch (produced) was pawned on 28th July for 2l. 5s. in the name of William Jackson, but I do not recognize the prisoner—this is the corresponding duplicate.
THOMAS BARNWELL . I am an assistant to Mr. Starling, a pawnbroker, of 207, High Holborn—this watch (produced) was pawned with me for 30s. on the, 17th August in the name of Jackson—I have the original duplicate, which corresponds with one in the policeman's possession—I do not know who pawned it—Mr. Benson's name is on it.
DANIEL DIXON (City Policeman 456). I took the prisoner on 28th August, searched him at the station and found on him these five duplicates, among which is one for a watch pawned on 20th August at Smith and Dymond's—I found 2s. 6d. on him.
FREDERICK ALDRIDGE (re-examined). These watches are all Mr. Benson's manufacture—we have the numbers of them—they have never been sold except one which belongs to one of our apprentices, which we had to clean—these are the duplicates the prisoner showed me when I met him.
Prisoner's Defence. If I had had any idea of stealing the watches, I should not have gone and told them about it after being discharged—I intended to replace them and should be happy to do so to-morrow.
GUILTY —He was further charged with, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell in January, 1871, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT, Wednesday September 23rd, 1874.
Before Mr. Baron Barnwell,
MESSRS. POLAND and H. D. GREENE conducted the Prosecution; MR. WARNER SLEIGH defended WOOLFE.
ERNEST WATSON . I am a stock and share broker, carrying on business at the Royal Exchange—in October last year my father was assisting me—on 22nd October I saw the prisoners in my office—my father had been there previously—he directed me in their presence to go over to the Bank of England and identify them—that is always necessary on the occasion of a transfer of stock—the necessary documents were made out in my office—I don't think I went over with them on the first occasion; Mr. Goldsmith, one of my clerks did—on their return my father gave them a cheque for 94l. 4s.—that cheque was subsequently cashed, through my bankers, Messrs. Smith, Payne and Smith—this was on 22nd October—I saw the prisoners again on 2nd December—on that occasion a transfer of stock was made and I attended at the Bank to identify them—I gave a cheque for the amount which had to be transferred—I saw them sign the transfer at the Bank on
each occasion that I went—I identified the woman—on 8th January I attended again, and again on 16th April—my father died on 5th July—on 16th April I had the necessary documents for the transfer made out in my office—I attended with them at the Bank and witnessed the execution of the transfer, it was signed by the two prisoners. (This was a transfer of 100l. Three per Cent. Stock; by Richard Croucher, the younger, of Brighton, builder, Elizabeth Croucher, of Cuckfield, Sussex, widow, and Charles Webber, of Duke Street, Bishopsgate, wheelwright, and was signed in those names)—the female prisoner signed "Elizabeth Croucher"—I heard Webber address her as "Mother"—these transfers of 3rd December and 8th January were executed in the same way—I was a witness to them—having witnessed the transfer on 16th April I gave Webber a cheque for the amount minus my commission—I saw the prisoners again on 22nd or 23rd May and again in June when the balance remaining in the books of the Bank was transferred—the same persons attended and executed the transfer—the same process was gone through on each occasion—that disposed of the sum of 500l. odd.
Cross-examined. The first introduction of these persons to our firm was to my father when I was not present—I believe somebody introduced them except on that occasion: I was always present more or less—I was not present the first time when Woolfe was introduced as Elizabeth Croucher—they first came to the office in October—I think it was on the occasion of my making the first transfer, I think in October, that my. father told me this woman was Mrs. Croucher, and I was to go and identify her—it is a transaction that does not take very long—I do a great many in the course of a day occasionally, it generally takes about half an hour—Webber always appeared to be the person principally concerned—there was a man accompanying them as well, who gave instructions—Webber and the other man: were the persons that took the active part in it—I don't think the woman ever made any statement to me, she only went over to the bank and signed her name—she appeared to be a very illiterate and uneducated woman—in the transfer of 3rd December the name Croucher is spelt with a small "c"—none of the signatures are well written—I heard the woman addressed as "Mother," not as Mrs. Croucher—Webber generally called her "Mother," it was, "Now then mother, sign here."
WEBBER. A man named Robert Holmes was the first one that got me to do this; he always went to Mr. Watson's first and prepared everything. I got acquainted with this man Holmes through a builder that I did work for at Hackney, who used to know him, and he was great friends with him. Through my getting acquainted with a man named Lawrence I got acquainted' with this fellow Mr. Holmes. 'We were in a public house one night doing business and talking about money matters with Lawrence, and he said to me "You have got some money coming to you, have you not?" I said "Possibly I might have some day," he said "Where is it?" and I told him I did not think of anything at that time. He said "Why don't you sell some of it out? I could give you 150l. "I said I had no idea of it. He said "You can by getting a man and woman to forge the name; I can guarantee it shall be paid back again; I could give you 150l. "He knew. old Mr. Watson, he goes to him and makes it all right for us. Whether he went and got this lady, or whether any one else did I don't know. I think I had an interview with the man first, to ask him whether he would be persuaded to leave some little out or not. It was not done intentionally to rob the Bank. He said "If you think you can do any good with it I
should not mind having a try." I went and told this man what I had done, and he tries and persuades me to sell some of it out, and he or somebody else goes and asks this lady, and gets her to come and pass as Mrs. Croucher; then they go to old Mr. Watson and sell out two lots before I saw this gentleman at all. The money was sold out. I said to him "What have we got to give this lady and the other man?" He made a proposition what they were to have. I really could not say what they had the first time. When it was sold I said "Now what have we to give you, 2l. will suit you, won't it?" He said "No, I have done most of it, and I want most of it; I want 10l. or 15l. "He used to do the writing, and I used to carry the cheque book, and if I wanted 10l. or 15l. I used to get him to write out the cheque and I signed my name, and if I wanted 4l. he would put a I down before it and make. 14l. of it, and rob me that way. Several times he did this. On one occasion he said to the other man "I don't see what we want with Webber; if we go to a fresh broker and get another man we can sell out the stock and have it ourselves, and let Webber down. "They worried me so I was like a madman, but I did not like to upset him, because I was frightened if I did, that I should get nothing at all. Then, in order to try and satisfy me after he found it was very nearly all gone, he comes to me when the 100l. was sold out, and says "Mr. Webber, I have had bad luck with the money I have had of you, but a friend of mine has money coming to him; I will take you to Doctor's Commons and show you the will. The two trustees are dead and they want to get two more trustees; you seem poor, and you can have your money back if you can only find money to do it." He took me up to Doctor's Commons and showed me the will. I have no question to ask the witness. We had this money certainly, but not with the intention of robbing the Bank. It was done by this man persuading me to do it; it was to be paid back again. I never went to this lady's house at all; the old gentleman went and fetched her out.
Re-examined. The woman did not ask what name she should sign, or anything of the sort.
WILLIAM THOMAS SUFFOLK . I am one of the clerks in the Consols Office, Bank of England—I was present on 16th April when Mr. Watson came with three persons to make this transfer—they executed the transfer, England, and saw some stock transferred—I attested the transfer—Webber signed the name of Richard Croucher the younger, and the female signed the name of Elizabeth Croucher.
Cross-examined. I recollect these persons coming when the first transfer was made—I believe I directed the woman where to sign her name—it was understood that she was to sign the name of Elizabeth Croucher—I can't recollect whether I heard her told to sign Elizabeth Croucher—I believe she was told to sign there—I should have told her myself, believing her to be Elizabeth Croucher—I believe the words used were "Sign your name," or something to that effect—I cannot trust to my memory to be quite certain.
one of the owners of this stock 525l. 6s. 8d.—there were two other trustees, Elizabeth Croucher and Charles Webber—I did not come up to London in October last and attend at the Bank of England—I did not authorise the sale of any portion of this stock—I did not on 3rd December, 8th January, 16th April, or 17th Jane, come up and attend at the Bank of England or execute any transfer of stock there, or authorise any of it to be transferred—my aunt, Elizabeth Croucher, has a life interest in it, and after her, four of her daughters—Woolfe is not my aunt Elizabeth Croucher.
ELIZABETH CROUCHER . I live at Hayward's Heath—I did not go to the Bank of England in October, December, January, April, or June last, and execute any transfer of stock, or authorise this female or any one else to go For me—in July last I saw Webber in London, and he gave me the dividend for the whole of the stock.
WILLIAM WRIGHT (City Policeman). On 18th August I received a warrant to apprehend Charles Webber—I arrested him on the 19th—I told him I was an officer and I had a warrant for him—he said "It's all right, we have had the money, if you had waited till this time next week the money would all have been paid"—he produced a letter and said. "I can't understand why they should have issued a warrant against me, as my mother-in-law won't prosecute—I asked him what he meant by "we"—he said they were persons that went with him and they used to live at Bow, but he did not know their names or addresses—I arrested Woolfe—I told her I should charge her with being concerned with Charles Webber in forging and uttering a certain share in stock in the Bank of England, in the names of Richard and Elizabeth Croucher on 22nd May last—she said "I went with them, a friend of mine came for me and I went to the Bank of England; I met them at the Royal Exchange; we went to the Bank of England, I-signed the name of Elizabeth Croucher five or six times; I did not know that I was doing any wrong"—she gave the name of Jackson—I addressed her as Jackson—she subsequently called herself Woolfe—I believe she is living with a man at Hackney—I don't think. they are married—he is a man occasionally employed as a broker.
WEBBER'S DEFENCE. All I have to say is that the old gentleman I was speaking of just now was the cause of this lady coming up. I believe she did not know what she was going to do when she came there. This old gentleman and another man used to fetch her up to sign. I think this man ought not to be let run about, or he will let in somebody else; I am innocent enough of it.
WOOLFE received a good character.
After the verdict, PHOEBS LAKE, of 7, Mary Street, Old Ford, stated that Webber had asked her to go and sign her name, as he had some money to receive, and that not being able to unite, she at Webber's request applied to Woolfe for that purpose, Webber stating there would be no harm and no trouble.
WEBBER— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. WOOLFE— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. METCALFE, Q. C., and MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution; and MR. DIGBY SEYMOUR, Q.C. with MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
MONSEIGNEUR THOMAS JOHN CAPEL . I reside at Cedar Villa, Wright's Lane, Kensington, I know both Mr. Pugin and Mr. Herbert—on 27th July last I received a copy of the Westminster Gazette and the supplement produced—I received it by post.
Cross-examined by Mr. D. Seymour. I was not present at the previous trial. (See page 199)—I was summoned, but I came too late.
Re-examined. I had not received this paper at the time of the former trial.
By the Court. I did not read these letters—I had not time to read them—I simply did not read them at all.
GEORGE RICHMOND . I live at 20, York Street, Portman Square—I am a Member of the Royal Academy—I have known Mr. Herbert from boy hood—I received a copy of the Westminster Gazette and the supplement produced—I read portions of it; I saw that the matter related to Mr. Pugin and my friend, Mr. Herbert—I gave the copy I received into Court at Bow Street.
THOMAS DANES . I am a printer in Crane Court, Fleet Street—I did not print the Westminster Gazette of 24th July, I printed the supplement of 25th—the manuscript was brought to me in detached "parcels by three or four persons; the first portion of it was brought by Mr. Purcell, and two other portions I think were brought by servants of Mr. Pugin—I refused to accept the first portion from Mr. Purcell; I refused to print it—some of the other portions I had from Mr. Pugin himself and one or two of his servants—I can't say what part I received from Mr. Pugin; he only gave me directions as to the time it was wanted—he said that he wanted it by the next day—he told me to print 4,000 copies—I printed those 4,000—I think it was on 23rd or 24th that he came to me, I am not quite certain—I complied with his directions and he paid me; it was about 9l., or 10l., I forget now exactly the sum—the copies were fetched away when they were ready, by servants of Mr. Pugin—he paid me 5l. down before it was touched, and the balance after it was fetched—it is not usual for me to print a supplement of the Westminster Gazette—this was not the only one I have printed—I have printed supplements on previous occasions when I have printed the Gazette itself—it was an unusual thing.
Cross-examined by Mr. D. Seymour. I don't know that the Gazette circulates especially among the Catholic section of the community—I don't know where it circulates—being a Catholic publication, I suppose it circulates among the Roman Catholics, but I don't know—I was not aware that this supplement purported to be a report of the action of Herbert and Pugin—I did not know that the Gazette had previously published a portion of the action that had been tried; I know it now—I had not printed it—I don't know whether it was printed in the office—I never see or read the publication—I don't think Mr. Pugin referred to the previous trial at the time he spoke to me—we had some conversation—I do not think he said that only portions of the letters which had been read at the previous trial had appeared in the public papers which rendered them absurd, and he was going to publish them in full—there was no original matter; it was nothing but letters.
JOHN THRUSSELL . I am hall-boy at the Stafford Club, Savile Row—in July last, some supplements of the Westminster Gazette were brought to the Club, about fifty as near as I can guess; they were laid on the slab in the front hall—that was a place where the members could take them if they
wanted them—I put my name on two of them; these (produced) are the two—I gave them to Mr. Herbert.
REV. DR. CROOKHALL. I am attached to the Cathedral at Southwark—I received a copy of this supplement by post—I read portions of the letters—they evidently apply to Mr. Herbert.
Cross-examined. I was not at the previous trial.
JOHN CALDER . I am an architect—my offices are in Victoria House, Victoria Street—Mr. Pugin has offices in the same building—Mr. Pugin gave me a document the afternoon before the last trial; I think it was 13th July—I think his words were, "Have the goodness to take this to Mr. Herbert's house at The Chimes at Kilburn"—he did not say what it was—I think I knew what it was; there were certain questions—I never read it, but I knew what it was—I don't know whether it was headed, "The Eve of the Fight;" I scarcely looked at it—I gave it to Mr. Herbert's son at his house the same afternoon—I took it to The Chimes at Kilburn—I saw the housemaid, and asked for Mr. Herbert; he was not within—I asked, for Mrs. Herbert; she was within, and I was requested to walk in—it was on paper like this.
Cross-examined. I was at the trial next day—this paper was not referred to in the course of the trial, to my knowledge.
JOHN ROGERS HERBERT . I am an artist, and a Member of the Royal Academy—I frequently exhibit pictures at the Academy—the house in which I live was built for me some years ago, and the defendant was the architect—he afterwards made a claim," which I disputed, and he brought an action, which is still pending—after the action was brought, and before, I received letters from him from time to time—among others I received this letter of 21st June, signed by the defendant; the signature is his hand writing—it came to me by post—I also received this letter, dated 3rd August, signed by him—my son gave me this letter, headed "The Eve of the Fight"—I also received this letter, dated 13th August; that is signed by the defendant—I also received a number of telegrams—my cook and housemaid gave me these two papers, which are addressed to them; they are copies of the Westminster Gazette—the addresses are in the same handwriting as the letters, and as the manuscript of "The Eve of the Fight"—I know the defendant's handwriting; they are not written by him, but by his clerk, as all the other letters are.
Cross-examined by Mr. Seymour. I had been very intimate with Mr; Pugin's father, and from the defendant's infancy up to the time I employed him in reference to my house we were on friendly terms—nothing occurred to disturb those relations until he was dismissed as architect—there was a threat to bring an action, but it was never brought—a writ was issued—it went on somewhere and then stopped—it is not true that my attorney took out fifteen different summonses and orders which led to the stoppage of the action—I instructed my attorney to make an affidavit and to apply for security for costs—the affidavit is there—I believe I instructed him to put two picas of fraud on the record, one charging Mr. Pugin with collusion with Hodgson, the builder, and the other a general plea of fraud—I could not offer the incense of praise to a man who had done that, but I do not remember that I expressed myself in strong terms; I have been an enormous
sufferer, and a great loser in health and pocket, and in my delay of Government works, all occasioned by this man—I have said that Mr. Pugin has treated me badly, and I believe he has—I am not aware that I have in many places expressed myself strongly with regard to what Mr. Pugin has done—I don't remember particularly that I have spoken of him to his dispraise and discredit—I have said that his claim was a most unjust one which would be settled if he liked to bring the action—I don't remember particularly that I have expressed myself to that effect to more than one person and in more than one place—he has written and sent me telegrams of insult and letters also, before the late trial—he made attacks on me before I pleaded to the action—I had received letters of insult before, and he had attacked me in various directions among my friends, calling me a liar, and expressions of that kind—these letters in the supplement were written since his return from America—I was present at the previous trial—I believe this letter headed "The Eve of the Fight," came into ray hands on the day previous to that trial—the trial, I think, was on the 14th July—I am unable to say whether that letter was here then—I believe it was not among those letters which formed part of that enquiry—I am not sure where it was at that moment, but I believe it was not among those letters which were put in as containing the libels—I have gone through the letters in the supplemen t—I have been so inundated with letters from this man that it is extremely difficult for me to recognise a particular letter—I am not perfectly certain whether or not the letter of 10th April, 1874, was produced at the former trial—I don't know—I should be sorry to say one way or the other my memory might deceive me—I can't say that after I had put the pleas of fraud on the record I noticed that his manner was altered, because I had received insults before any letters were written: I don't mean insults with regard to the dispute about the house, but things said of me to my friends—I had heard of stinging things said of me before there was a thought of an action arising out of the architect's claim in connection with the house at Kilburn—I only made one affidavit—that was with reference to his going to America, and I conclude it was that he' referred to when he called me perjurer. (The affidavit was here put in and read; it was dated 6th October, 1873, and stated that he had been informed that Mr. Pugin intended to go to America for two years; that he was without means, and had to be supported by his friends while he was absent in America.) I have stated that the imputations of perjury refer to my affidavit—it is impossible to know to what he does point in these letters—I suppose he is partly referring to the affidavit and partly to the extraordinary statements which he has made, for I declare upon my oath that there is scarcely a sentence in the whole of these letters which is true—I had not made any affidavit but this one, which he could impeach, therefore it is natural to refer his charge of perjury to this affidavit: now I understand you—I knew that I had not made a false oath, but I partly understood him, in his dreamy way of putting it, to allude to that—I understood the various imputations contained in that letter to refer to a desire on my part to avoid payment in relation to the claim made by him, and to nothing else—I don't know that ho ever charged me with wronging anybody else—I beg your pardon, there are letters in which he does accuse me of not paying other persons—there is a letter there with regard to a Mrs. Thornton, in which he says that I had refused to pay a sum of 3l. 10s., or some such sum, to a lady—I can't say that I found any difference in him after I made
this affidavit; he has always been excited—I don't know that these pleas of fraud were the common talk in the profession to which we belong—I did not find it so—Mr. Pugin's claims upon me, from the beginning to the end, I have heard, but not this affair of the affidavit—if Mr. Pugin will bring his action the question of fraud will be made quite clear—I did not try to sell my house, nor did I ever give him permission to do so—I did not put it on an agent's books—I was not willing to take an adequate offer for it—I did not want to sell my house to him: what right had he to buy my house?—at Bow Street he desired to refer all disputes between us—there was something said about it before then—I did not break it off—it is so long since that I do not remember these things well—there was a proposition, and it is one which Mr. Pugin has always been making everywhere, throwing the house into measuring value; these propositions have only been made to put off the trial—I do not remember instructing my solicitor to agree to the proposition—I did not afterwards refuse to refer—it fell through in this way, Mr. Pugin became bankrupt and there were difficulties in the way of anything, and what was done I am unable to say—I don't know that Mr. Pugin was a sufferer in pocket by these disputes as well as me—I have of course suffered in pocket with regard to the house which he built—if his claim is well founded he has not got his due, but it is not Well founded—I say that owing to his misconduct I have paid more than I ought to have done—by his neglect he was dismissed—I should not think that the put-ing the two pleas of fraud on the record had injured him in his profession, I believe not: but with regard to the house I want to say that I do not owe that man a farthing; the house is paid for, and the receipts are there—it is not my fault that he is indicted before the case is tried—I believe the Magistrate suggested to Mr. Pugin that he ought not to write to me any more, and he pledged his honour that he would not—there was-somethin to that effect said, I believe—I have received no letter from him since he gave me that pledge, but letters about me have been written to my friends.
Q. In Court the other day, in answer to an appeal from the Magistrate, he pledged his honour that he would write to you no more, and you have told us that he kept his word; now suppose that here, before a higher tribunal, he repeats on his honour that he will trouble you no more, and write no more, would you be satisfied? A. I bear him no kind of vindictive feeling, but I must remember that this has gone on now for some years, and I cannot answer that question; I would leave that question to do answered by the Court—I was at Ramsgate the other day—I lived at 16, West Cliff, close to the church, and very near to his house—I went there for fresh air—I knew some persons there, and I went with my wife—I was not well, nor was she—it was not my own house, it was a house where I had lived before—I might not have gone to the East Cliff, because I did not know I should go till the hour of my starting, and knowing these persona I had those rooms: it was very near his house—I did not pass his house frequently, I passed it, I think, twice—I went for a little walk, and returned by it; I could not return otherwise—I did not meet him at all—I met him at one of the stations—he got out and walked past me, I saw him, but I did not recognise him more than seeing him—I did not stop at all, or look hard at him, I regarded him for a moment—I did not look at his window as I passed, I saw two large bloodhounds, and one or two persons standing at the door—I did not point my thumb at him.
Re-examined. What I meant by the plea of fraud was that he gave certificates for bad timber and bad work, and for zinc instead of lead, and so on, there were other things—that was not circulated in any way, except by instructing my pleader to plead it—he has given me no notice of trial for the action for the extra money, or tried to go on with it—the plea of fraud is hanging over his head, because he does not choose to bring the action on—my house was put on the agent's books by the defendant, he wrote a letter to them, he advertised my house for sale without any permission from me, and also sent crowds of people to value it, every day constantly he sent people to get into my house at various times, even at night and in the day, sometimes ten people of a very bad type indeed, saying that they wanted to measure and examine the honse to see what was wanted to be done to Mr. Pugin's house before he offered it for auction—that has been followed up every day, sometimes ten in a day, large fighting men—in the letter of 13th August he accuses me of being a perjurer in police courts—I had forgotten that, it is not easy to remember these terrible things.
By Mr. Seymour. I did not say of the defendant at the Stafford Clab and elsewhere that I had evidence against him that would send him to the hulks—I know Mr. Wallis—I did not state that to him—I gave the opinion of my lawyer, who said that the affair of the bond would be, in his opinion, sufficient to send them to prison, or something like that—it was there believed that he was in partnership with a builder and that he gave to the builder a bond for 500l. over the cost of my house—before the contract was signed he told me that the builder would build it for 2,403l. 10s., but that he bad given him a bond for 500l. over that, so I said to him "I have done with the transaction, I will have nothing whatever to do with that, and it dropped—I conceived that I should have to pay that sum when the bond was presented—some days afterwards he came to me and said "I have seen the builder and have abandoned the bond, and he will build it for the sum named"—that being the case I thought the matter was fair and clear, and I said I would sign the contract, and the builder signed it, and the sum to be paid was 2,400l.—I believed that the bond was destroyed—towards the close of the year, when the house had got a good way up, the builder came to me and said "I must ask you to give me 500l. for a bond I hold against you"—I said "From whom?"—he said "From Mr. Pugin"—he told me that Mr. Pugin was my agent—I immediately wrote down to Mr. Pugin and said "I am astounded at what has happened, the builder has been to me with a bond for 500l. which he tells me you have given on my part"—Mr. Pugin wrote to me by the same date, and I believe before he had my letter, "Hodgson has applied to me for 500l. and I have had no choice but. to pay 300l. upon it"—Mr. Hodgson writes to me declaring that he had not paid him a farthing of that 500l., and I have Mr. Pugin's letter stating that he had given this bond—the three letters are in Court—I had no idea what the bond was for, I did not ask what it was for—it was a year and a half ago that I said to Mr. Wallis I had evidence which Mr. Field was of opinion was sufficient to send Mr. Pugin to prison—I am not aware that I repeated that to other gentlemen—I know Mr. De Beauville—I did not tell him at another time and in another place, that I had evidence that could send Mr. Pugin to prison—I don't remember that I said anything of the kind—I say no, I did not—I did not use language to him to the effect that I had evidence that could bring him within the criminal law; I undertake to say that I did not—it is a year and a half ago that I had the conversation
with Mr. Wallis, and he immediately brought a writ against me and laid the damages at 5,000l. and he has never declared.
By THE COURT. The builder took a contract from me for a certain amount—I don't know that the defendant undertook to pay the builder an amount if it should be worth more—Mr. Field thought it was fraudulent, because he said they were in partnership—he said "Mr. Pugin who ought to be your bulwark is giving certificates for unsound timber and bad work," and that is a fact, for the house has settlements all round it—the contract was signed before the building was begun—the story of the bond was told me some days before I signed the contract, but he told me he had destroyed the bond and so I signed it.
GEORGE HENRY LEWIS . I am the attorney in this matter, and was so on the last occasion—the only letter published in the Westminster Gazette that was produced on the last occasion, or referred to, was I believe the one of 17th May commencing "The town rings with your trickiness"—I think instead of the word "trickiness" there was another word in the original letter—the indictment was preferred at the June Session, and the case was then postponed to July—it could not have contained "The Eve of the Fight;' it was not produced, nor any of the other letters referred to in this indictment.
Cross-examined by MR. SEYMOUR. The letter headed "The Eve of the Fight" was handed to me by Mr. Herbert after the trial was over—I had no list of the letters that were in Court at that time—the indictment con-taiued only 3 letters—I should say that Mr. Herbert has handed me probably 200 letters—I have got no list of the correspondence that was then in my possession—I have simply got in Court a number of letters that have been written since the last indictment—The Eve of the Fight" was not shown to Mr. Poland in Court—it was never produced in Court or referred to in any shape or way—it was not among the. bundle of letters that are here now—Mr. Herbert handed it to me after the trial was over, and said "Here is a letter that I received last night, how is this to stop, what am I do?" and I have received letters continuously down to last night—Mr. Pugin has further brought an action against me—he writes to me and lays his damages at 25,000l.
The Supplement of the Westminster Gazette was put in and taken as read; it contained a number of letters, the first dated-December 29, 1873, addressed to Mr. Herbert, commenced:—"Sir,—In spite of your perjured affidavit that I had fled to America from my creditors, you will probably have learnt through your solicitor that I have returned with the fixed purpose of bringing you to justice and of making you pay me substantial damages for the slanders you have thought fit to circulate," etc., etc.
Upon MR. METCALFE proposing to put in the letter of 21st June, 1874, Mr. Seymour objected to its reception on the ground that there was no publication, it being a private letter addressed to the prosecutor. Re referred to the case of "Reg. v. Burdett," 4 Barnewall and Alderson, page 45, as the only case hearing upon the point, in which Mr. Justice Bayley expressed doubts as to the propriety of admitting such letters. Mr. Baron Bramwell in overruling the objection, stated that for the purposes of the Criminal Law, a libel might be published by sending it to the person libelled, on account of its tendency to cause a breach of the peace.
The following letters were then, put in and read:—Victoria House, Victoria Street, Westminster, June 21, 1874. Sir,—I have done my best to impress
upon you that you were born, have lived, and will probably die, a humbug; and it is now ray duty for the public benefit that this conviction should no longer be confided to yourself, but should be laid before the world at large. Have I. to go further than this year's Exhibition at the Royal Academy? Go look on those walls. Go, behold the daubs of yourself and your son, placed on the line, to the exclusion of talent and honest efforts. Reflect on the number of men your injustice must have driven to despair. Why, I am told that even your fellow hangers shuddered with disgust at your imperturbable impudence. Will you deny this? You may do so, for you will do anything. But, on the other hand, I will tell you that it is the last time that you will have the opportunity of so thoroughly disgracing yourself, or of insulting the nation. It may seem hard to say it to a father that a picture which bears his son's name, and that is on the line, is not only the worst picture in the Exhibition, but is the worst picture ever publicly exhibited. I observe on the frame the mystic star denoting that it has been disposed of. Excuse, I beg you, my doubting that it has found a purchaser, and forgive me for adding that, if such is the fact, the question which all beholders will ask themselves will be whether the picture or the purchaser has been the most sold.—E. Welby Pugin. Mr. J. Rogers Herbert. I. P. S.—I will add this letter to the collection which will shortly appear. 2 P.S.—The whole of my nieces will be in Court to confront their detractor, and to tell you that you are a liar and a perjurer to your face. Wretched man! how will you explain this matter to the satisfaction of the Judge, the Jury, and the public?"July 13, '74,
THE EVE OF THE FIGHT.
'Stand to it! renew the fight (For Pugin's wrong if Herbert's right). These slaves! they dare not hand to hand Bide buffet from a trueman's brand, Impetuous, active, fierce, and young, Upon the advancing foe he sprung. Woe to the wretch at whom is bent His brandish'd falchion's sheer descent; Backward they scattered as he came, Like wolves before the levin flame.'—Scott.
Sir,—At this moment ask yourself, did I not try to cajole Pugin out of a house worth 4,500l. for 2,400l.? I Did I not, in conjunction with others, act as though he dare not strike a blow in his own defence? Did I not, under the impression that he was penniless, exclaim, now I have drawn my sword it shall not be sheathed until it be covered with either glory or gore I Did I not resort to every dirty and filthy trick to avoid paying my just liabilities? Have I not loved my 'louis' more than my honour I Am I not a cur of the worst breed, to have shirked opening my own letters, and to have requested my wife to keep them from my sight? Am I not a coward of the most contemptible nature to have made such a request, and then to have gone howling about the country. I did not mind so long as his letters were addressed to myself, that I could endure; but to have placed them in the hands of one's wife, exceeds the bounds of endurance I Am not a dog too contemptible to be worth kicking, for having apologised to Edward Barry for having written what I believed to be true I Have I not justly incurred the wretchedness I am suffering? Shall I not be a man utterly ruined both in
reputation and purse? Will not the evidence that will be advanced at the trial, make me wish I had never been born I Can I deny that I am a perjurer I Can I deny that I am a slanderer? Can I deny that such conduct as I have been guilty of makes me even in my own estimation more stinking than the dunghills, more foul than the cesspools to which Pugin has referred? &c."—"August 3. Sir,—Not only are you a coward; not only have you proved yourself to be all that I have depicted you; but your solicitors, I am told, hold the same opinion of you and were ashamed to appear in Court in support of your proceedings. I hear you are consoling yourself with the idea that you will have four Bishops as fellow-sufferers. Believe me, Sir, that is utterly impossible; for not even among the worst criminals would it be possible to find another man who had sunk to your depth of degradation. No doubt you have done your utmost by your slanders, your plea of fraud, and your libels, to induce others to join you in your nefarious schemes; and bad as some may be, none can be found to sacrifice, as you have done, every sense of honour at the shrine of sordid aims. Yes, Sir, you are a singular example among the most contemptible.—E. Welby Pugin. To J. R. Herbert."
A letter of 13th August, 1874, commenced "Vengeance only to Heaven belongs, but when I think of all my wrongs, my blood is liquid flame," &c, &c.
GUILTY — To enter into his own recognizances in 500l. and two sureties of 250l. each, to appear and receive judgment when-called upon.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, September 23rd, 1874.
For the cases of EDWIN BRISCOE and THOMAS WHITE, tried before Mb. Baron Amphlett this day, see Surrey Cases.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, September 23rd, 1871
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
397. CHARLES SYMINGTON (38) , PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously concealing from his creditors part of his property to the value of 150l., pending bankruptcy proceedings, with intent to defraud. He received a good character and was recommended to mercy— Two Months' Imprisonment.
399. GEORGE THAIN (43) , to forging a request for the payment of 1l. 6s. 3d., with intent to defraud; also to obtaining the sums of 1l. and 1l. by false pretences from Andrew Aaronson and Frederick William Godfrey. Recommended to mercy— Two Months' Imprisonment [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
400. JOHN WILLIAM SCHMIDT (28) , to unlawfully, he being bankrupt, neglecting to discover to Samuel Barrow, the trustee administering his estate, all his personal property, with intent to defraud— Six Months' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. LEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
ELIZABETH PUDDICOMB . I am single and live at 2, London Place, Bermondsey—at about 4.15 on the afternoon of 31st August I was in Holborn, standing just outside a crowd, when I felt the prisoner taking my watch out of my belt—I took it from him—it was fastened to a jet chain—a policeman came up and I gave him in custody—he had got some way off before he was taken—I have no doubt that he is the same person—he was close to my side and I saw his face—I looked at him and he looked at me—I live with my parents—I was then going to see my sister.
Cross-examined. There were a great many people, all pretty close to each other, looking at a grindstone being lifted into a cart—there was no one with me—I did not see another young man in front of the prisoner also walking away—this is the chain (produced)—it is not broken—it was tucked underneath my waistband and out again.
JOHN SIMPSON . I am a foundryman—I was in Holborn on the afternoon in question—there was a crowd, and I saw the prisoner near the prosecutrix, so close that I suspected him and watched him for about half a minute, and with his right hand he drew her watch out of her belt—I saw the watch actually leave the belt—I identify the prisoner as the man who took it—I had time to observe his face—the prosecutrix took the watch from him and he walked leisurely away, after which I spoke to her and he was given into custody.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the prisoner before—there might have been another man there with a felt hat on—I was not in work at the time, but was looking for employment—I know that the prisoner has got about fourteen witnesses here as to his character.
FREDERICK JOHNSON (City Policeman). About 4.15 on the afternoon of 31st August I wag in Holborn—Simpson pointed out the prisoner to me, who, when he saw me coming, started to run, and turned up his coat collar—I stopped him and took him into custody—I did not see any one else running in front of him.
Cross-examined. Somebody was running behind me—the prisoner gave me his correct address.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MR. GOODSON. The prisoner is my eldest son—he is 22 years of age—I live at '14, I field Road, West Brompton, and am a plumber and house decorator—the prisoner has always been under my roof unless he has been on a country job, and I have always found him honest—on the 31st August I told him to call upon me at 1 o'clock, to see me where I was at work in Water Lane, City—when he came to me it was 1 o'clock, and I sent him to see a Mr. Fisher, the foreman of the plumbers' work—he would have to go to Vauxhall Bridge and then to Bedford Square—he then called at the Holborn Restaurant and saw one of the workmen there he went to enquire about—I have made enquiries since and find he went there about what the men call "beer-time," that is about 3 or 3.30—he was under my roof and in my employ at the time—he had his own pocket picked of a watch in November last, and I believe he gave notice to the police.
HENRY ISAACS . I live at 28, High Holborn, and am a fruiterer—on the afternoon of 31st August I was standing outside my shop door, and saw two men running towards me—the prisoner was the second—the first man was dressed very like the prisoner—I was at Guild
ball Police Court at the Alderman's desire, and picked the prisoner out of a dozen others as the man who was running second—the policeman took hold of him next door to my house—the first man was about 10 yards ahead—he was running very fast—the prisoner was between the policeman and the man running first.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FRITH defended Butcher.
EMMA CANN . I am single and lire at 18, Goldington Street—about 12 o'clock on the night of 27th August I was in the George public-house near the Euston station—I saw the female prisoner in the next compartment—I had known her before—she came round to me and we had a quartern of gin, for which I paid—I had about 5s. in my pocket—she saw me take the money out of my cloak pocket to pay for it and put it back again—I then came out as they were closing—I proceeded a little way down Seymour Street, and left her when I saw her talking to the male prisoner at the corner of Seymour Street—I did not know him—I crossed over by St. Pancras Church further down on the other side of the way, a little below the church and the male prisoner came across the road—I stood still for a minute or two and He gave me a blow on the chest—I was in the act of getting up again and was on the kerb, when he made another hit at me, and forced his hand into my pocket—this mud on my cloak was caused by my falling—my right pocket was hanging out as I ran to the constable to give him in charge—he also made a kick at me—as I was getting up, the female prisoner was at his side and said "Have you got it?"—I picked up my bonnet, and by that time they had got away across the road and down Seymour Street—I looked for my money and my pocket handkerchief—I did not lose sight of them—Butcher said he would knock my brains out if I followed him—I followed them to Ossulston Street and gave them into custody.
Cross-examined. I went out about 11 o'clock that night with a person who was going to meet her husband, and she met him and I left her—I am not an unfortunate woman—I have been under the protection of some one for the last five years until lately—my occupation lately has been making bonnets—I never go out in the way you mean—I do not keep appointments with particular gentlemen—I do not' go to public-houses for materials for making bonnets—after the person I went out with had met her husband I went into a public-house and had a glass of ale, and then Clarke came round to me from the other compartment—it is not true that I went up and down the Euston Road as a common prostitute—I had nothing to drink with my friend—Clarke did not appear to have been drinking other people were in the compartment—I was in the small compartment on the private side—my money was in shillings and pence—my father is in the hospital" and my mother in the infirmary, she is allowed 3s. a-week, and 3s. of this was her money—it was not in a purse, but mixed with half-pence—I never lost sight of Butcher—I was pretty well exhausted by being knocked about—I could swear he is the man that did it—I have known Clarke a considerable time, but have lost sight of her for about fifteen years until lately—I kept at a distance, just keeping Butcher in sight—I was afraid to go
too near—he ran back and threatened me, but I will not say that I said so in my depositions at the Police Court—I was sworn to tell the whole truth before the Magistrate.
CHARLES WHITE (Policeman Y 159). I was on duty on" 27th August in Seymour Street, Somers Town—I saw the prosecutrix there and the two prisoners—I came up the corner of Chapel Street, and heard the prosecutrix say "As soon as I see a police-constable I will give you in custody"—I went and asked what was the matter—she said "I give these two in your custody for knocking me down and robbing me of 5s.—I said "How did they knock you down?"—she said "The male prisoner struck me in the chest"—there was mud on the back of her waterproof—I told them they would have to come to the station along with me—the prosecutrix was sober, but very much excited.
Cross-examined. I searched them, and found 4 1/2 d. on Batcher, and I was found on Clarke by the female searcher after we got to the station—a third party, a woman, was between 500 and 600 yards away, and the money might have been passed—I saw nothing of the handkerchief.
Clarke's Defence. On 26th August I met the prosecutrix. We have walked the streets together and shared our money together. She sent word to me that she was sorry to place me in this position, and knew I knew nothing about it. I gave her 3s. to take her mother brandy and grapes in the Hospital, and I have been living with her some time and she is a prostitute. I cannot say why she gave me into custody. We had been drinking from 9.30 till 12 at the George public-house; I spent 2s. with her there. She was drinking with a man who keeps a coffee-house, a brothel keeper. I had 2s. and spent it with her, and she denied having a halfpenny in her pocket. She treats me and I treat her; in fact, we never leave one another. I stopped a fortnight with her, three weeks before she gave me into custody. She has been convicted several times; six months for stealing,' and two years for robbing a woman of her shawl, and some time previous to my being taken into custody she was to be apprehended for beating another woman, and even her mother has been convicted of felony. It is nothing but malice her doing this. Is it likely I should call a youth and ask him to pick her pocket. She was intoxicated, and he pushed her and she fell down.
EMMA CANN (re-examined.) I think I knew Clarke about fifteen years ago, but I have not seen her for the last nine years, not until I came into the neighbourhood to live—it is not true that I stopped a fortnight with her three weeks previous to my giving her in custody—I was not drinking with a man at the public-house—I believe I was spoken to that night—I had a charge made against me about two years ago—I got into bad company, a woman who had been convicted—I was with her when she committed a robbery—I was committed for six months, and I have had two years' and also six months' imprisonment—the two years was for a woman's shawl and something, I forget what it was—I am 33 years of age—that was heard at Clerkenwell Clarke saw me put the money in my pocket, and I had it when Butcher knocked me down, and she said to him "Have you got it?"
Clarice. She charged him with taking her money, and I said "Have you got her money?" Witness. She said "Have you got it?"—that was after—I had not accused them until I got the constable—she said "Have you got it?" when I was getting up after the second knock down.
Clarke. She never spoke about giving me into custody. The lad went to the policeman himself.
EMMA. CANN (continued). Clarke has never given me any money—we have not lived together—we have not walked the streets together—I have met her and drunk with her and treated her—it is false that I offered to refrain from prosecuting if I got 2l.—Butcher's sister threatened me and said she would have my b——life.
ELIZABETH STEADMAN . I am Butcher's sister—I am married and have two children—my brother has always been steady and respectably conducted ever since my mother died, about nine or ten years ago—I never knew him to be charged or convicted—he has been in constant employment—his master is a Mr. Parry, a foreman builder—I never threatened the prosecutrix—I had never seen her before—she had a very stout old fellow with her and she was in liquor—she came up to my place on Friday and asked for Mrs. Steadman, and she had a very stout old person with her. She paid for some gin, and she said "Mrs. Steadman, if you make me up 2l. I will go into the country. I expect my old captain home on Monday."
Cross-examined. I have another brother—I do not know where he lives.—we do not all live together—his name is Thomas—he is older than this one—he has been living where he works, at his master's house—I do not know how long he has been working there—I have not missed him for seven years—I have missed Jack for some years—when he was at home he used to live with this brother—I believe it is about five years since I saw him—I was in bed and asleep when, my brother was taken to the station that night—I saw the prosecutrix in the Police Court—I did not threaten her—I never saw Clarke before.
MR. OPPENHEIM conducted the Prosecution.
EMMANUEL DAVIS (Policeman B 234). On 14th September, about 9 o'clock in the evening, I received information from a Mr. Kelley, in consequence of which I went into the Broadway, Westminster, to look for the prisoner—I then got another constable, and we, with Mr. Kelly, stood and watched at the public-house in Tothill Street—we then saw the prisoner two or three other leave the public-house—we then saw the prisoner Street again, I directed the other constable to go up and stop him that way—he immediately turned round and made a run at me, and said "You want me, Davis, do you?" and-before I could say "Yes" I received a blow on the cheek from the prisoner—at the moment I saw he was coming I guarded myself as well as I could—I knocked him down—we both fell together—he was on his back and I was on my hands and knees—I crawled over on him—while I was lying on my right side across his stomach he was striking at me with his right hand, and I was warding the blows—assistance came, the other constable and a man in plain clothes, and we got him up—he kicked the other constable several times, when he drew his truncheon and struck him on the leg—he still went on kicking, and the constable struck him on the head—we then managed to get him to the station—I
followed just behind to charge him—I do not say that I bled, but the moment he struck me I was unconscious for a moment—this is the coat I wore at the time—there are marks and cuts on it—the cuts, I presume, were done while I was down—I was seen by the Divisional Surgeon of Police—I have been unwell ever since—the cut was right through this old tunic, but it did not enter the flesh—he never touched me afterwards.
By the Prisoner. I cannot tell whether you did this cut in my coat—I thought you made this mark on my face with a pipe—the blow on my cheek was given before any attempt was made by the constable to use his truncheon—I was merely walking towards you.
MARK COLEMAN (Policeman B 66). About 9 o'clock on the evening of 14th September I was in the Broadway, Westminster, with Davis—when Davis went towards the prisoner he jumped clean off the kerb, and extended his band and struck him on the side of the cheek—Davis put out his hand to seize him, and they came into collision, and both fell together on the ground—as soon as I ran up and got hold of Purvey I saw blood coming from Davis's cheek—the prisoner struggled so desperately that I was bound to use my truncheon—he kicked me very violently on the legs—they were all bruises—a civilian came to our assistance and a policeman in plain clothes, and we then got him to the station—he said going along, that in years to come, if ever he came out he would do for me—I did not kick him before he struck me, nor did I use my truncheon before he attacked me or Davis—he kicked me very severely before I used my truncheon—he commenced a savage attack upon me and I kicked him.
Prisoner. Because I commenced kicking you then you commenced hitting me on the leg with your truncheon, and nearly broke my ankle. Witness. As soon as I got assistance I put my truncheon up.
CHRISTOPHER CHESTERMAN . I am a labourer living at Wallingford, Berks—I was in the Broadway, "Westminster, about 9 o'clock on this night—it was about 9.30 when Davis crossed the road to take the prisoner—they both fell to the ground—I could not see whether he touched Davis or not—I saw him strike out at him—neither I nor Davis said anything to the prisoner till after they rose—Davis said "I don't want to hurt you; I have got a bit. of paper for you"—on the ground he said "You shall not take me, or I will put my b——y knife into you"—I saw the other constable cross the road—they were both up when he crossed the road—prisoner kept kicking the other constable—I helped to take him to the station.
Prisoner. You say that I said to Davis that I would stick a knife into him; if such were the case would not Davis say so? Witness. I did not see a knife or anything in your hand; you said "If I get six years for this I will put this b——y knife into you"—Davis told you he did not want to hurt you if you went quiet, and you set to and kicked Coleman directly—I was quite a stranger to all of them.
DR. GEORGE PEARSE . I practice at 2, St. George's Square, Pimlico, and am Divisional Surgeon—I saw Davis on the morning of 15th September there was an angular wound over his cheek bone about 1 1/4 inches long—his tunic was covered with blood, and there were three or four cuts in it, one five inches in length, and another branching through the waistcoat and corresponding with one through the tunic—he has been on the sick list ever since—the blows must have been given with some sharp instrument, a knife probably—the wound in the face would not have been inflicted by a short
pipe—these long cuts were evidently done with a sharp instrument—there are four or five distinct holes in the coat.
Several former convictions were proved against the Prisoner, and he was out on ticket of leave at the time— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. The Court ordered 2l. reward to Davis, and 11. each to Coleman and Chesterman.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, September zord, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
405. GEORGINA EMILIE MOCATTA (23) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a letter containing two pieces of paper and an order for the payment of 10l., the property of Kate McFarlane— Three Months' Imprisonment.
406. AMY SMITH (22) , to unlawfully taking away and detaining George Henry Watts,. a child of tender years, with intent to deprive the parents of its possession— Nine Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
JOHNSON and BISHOP PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
MICHAEL DRISCOLL . I live at 5, John Street, Lambeth, and am a licensed messenger—about 8 o'clock on the morning of 6th August I saw the three prisoners walking down Exeter Street, one of them was carrying a basket of beans and another a basket of plums—I walked a little way behind them and I met the officer in Wellington Street and said something to him—as soon as they saw me speak to him they chucked the baskets out in the road and all three ran away—I followed with the constable, and they were taken in custody.
HARRY WHITE (Policeman E 384). I was on duty on 6th August in Wellington Street, and Driscoll called my attention to the three prisoners—they were all walking together—two of them were carrying a basket each, one a basket of fruit and the other a basket of beans—as soon as they saw me and Driscoll they threw the baskets in the road and ran away—we pursued them and caught them in the Savoy, Strand—I took Rowson—he said "It is not me, I know nothing at all about the baskets."
ROWSON— NOT GUILTY . [See trial number 409 for punishments.]
JOHNSON, and BISHOP PLEADED GUILTY .
ROBERT PRINGLEY . I live at 3, Peachin Street, Holborn, and am assistant to Charles Steel—I missed a basket of French beans from my master's stand in Covent Garden—this is it (produced)—I had seen it safe about 7 o'clock and missed it about half an hour afterwards.
ROWSON— NOT GUILTY . [See trial number 409 for punishments.]
JANE SMITH . I am the wife of Sidney Smith, of 52, Nelson Square—on 5th August I was in Lancaster Street, near Newington Causeway—Rowson I believe came behind me and snatched my shawl from my arm—I caught sight of Rowson, because he ran across the road and threw it to Bishop—I was close to him and had a good view of him—I am able to speak to him as being the man—they both ran away and I followed them crying "Stop thief"—Bishop ran into a house and dropped the shawl at the door—I picked it up—a constable came up and I went with him to the station—I have no doubt that the prisoners are the two men—I saw them at Bow Street the week following with seven or eight others, and I picked them out.
Cross-examined by Rowson. I did not say I was not quite sure it was you.
WILLIAM FARNBOROUGH . I live at 32, Earl Street, London Road—between 2 and 3 o'clock on 5th August I saw Bishop running in the direction of Kell Street with a shawl on his arm—the prosecutrix was running behind him, holloaing out—Bishop ran down Kell Street, and a lot of men holloaed to him to drop the shawl—he dropped it and ran into a house—I ran down the street after him, but he went into the house too quick.
Rowson. I wish to call Bishop as a witness.
ROWSON— NOT GUILTY .
BISHOP**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
JOHNSON*— Six Montlis' Imprisonment.
410. STEPHEN JENSTER (46) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Charles Morland and others-seventy-two umbrellas and twelve chatelaine bands with intent to defraud. Second and third Counts. Obtaining twenty-three waistcoats from Louis Preager and 120 umbrellas from James John Ince with a like intent.
MR. THORNE COLE conducted the Prosecution; MR. MACRAE MOIR the Defence.
FREDERICK BALE . I am a town traveller in the employ of Morland and Sons, of Eastcheap, importers of umbrellas—about the 4th or 5th March the defendant came to the warehouse—I served him—he gave an order for seventy-two umbrellas and twelve chatelaine bands, which came to 35l. 14s. 6d.—he arranged to pay cash for them when they were ready—they were to be ready about the 8th or 9th March—he was to-call and pay for them, and it was to be arranged how they were to be taken away—I believe this (produced) is the card which he gave me, at any rate it was a similar one with a similar name and address—the name upon this is "E. Poncin & Co., 3, Queen Street, Covent Garden"—I did not go there at all—he came again on 8th March—he did not pay me for the articles, but I saw the cheque in the afternoon—on 14th March, in consequence of some information received, I went with two constables to 17, Lambeth Road—I did not see the prisoner there, but we found the goods, minus one or two umbrellas—I have four of the umbrellas here—I think it was sixty-seven we found altogether—they were under the mattrass of one of the beds: as
near as I can express it they were concealed in the bedding—I found they were the same goods which were ordered by the defendant—we found all the property there except four or five umbrellas, two others were found at a pawnbrokers near, Ohlson and Son, 44 and 46, Westminster Bridge Road.
Cross-examined. We recovered all the umbrellas but three—the prisoner was not there—I was not aware that he lived at 33, St. George's Road, Lambeth—he gave me this card—he did not speak of the person whose name is on the card as a different person to himself—he did not say that Poncin had been recommended or had recommended him—he came in as an ordinary customer and ordered the goods—I was the person who saw him first—he introduced himself by presenting the card, and I understood that he was that firm.
CHARLES COLEBY MORLAND . I am an umbrella manufacturer, at.50, Eastcheap—on 10th March the defendant called there—he was brought to the counting house—he handed me this cheque for 33l. 14s.—that is the amount of the invoice less the discount for cash—I receipted the invoice and he took the goods away in a cab. (Cheque produced: "London, 10th March, 1874. Birkbeck Bank, 29 and 30, Southampton Buildings. Pay Messrs. J. Morland & Son or Bearer 33l. 14s. Edward Poncin. N.S. 11-3-74.") I did not see the prisoner sign it—it was brought signed—I paid that cheque into my bank in the ordinary course and it was returned marked "N.S." which means not sufficient—I parted with my goods on the belief that it was a good cheque; I mean that he had assets at the bank—I would not have parted with them on credit at all.
Cross-examined. I am not quite sure whether I had seen the prisoner before—I think I had seen him about the place; I had not spoken to him before—he did not give me his address when he called; he gave his card to the last witness—I have no doubt that the prisoner is a foreigner from his way of speaking.
FREDERICK OHLSON . I am a pawnbroker at 44, Westminster Bridge Road—I produce two umbrellas; one was pawned on 11th March-for 6s., in. the name of John Smith, 17, Lambeth Road, and the other on the 12th for 5s., by a woman who gave her name Ann Johnson, 17, Lambeth Road—I produce the tickets—I took in the one which was pawned by the woman.
Cross-examined. I have never seen the prisoner before to my knowledge.
Cross-examined. There is one here which I recognised because it had my writing on the ticket which was gummed on; the ticket has now been defaced, but I recognise them as our make—they are exactly similar to those supplied to the prisoner.
JOHN UNDERWOOD (Police Sergeant L 11). I obtained a search warrant, and about 4 o'clock on 14th March. I went with Mr. Bale to 17, Lambeth Road—in the back room on the first floor we found sixty-seven umbrellas neatly arranged between the palliasse and the bedstead—under the bed, in a small box, I found twelve metal chatelaines—I did not see the prisoner there; I never saw him till 20th August at Kennington Lane Police Station—I told him I held a warrant for his apprehension for obtaining by means of false pretences, on or about 10th March, from 50, Eastcheap, seventy-two umbrellas and other articles, the property of Messrs. Morland and Sons—he said "Yes, they have all been given back, and my wife says they will not
prosecute"—I found on him a pawn ticket relating to an umbrella pledged about an hour previously in Kennington Park Road.
JAMES JOHN INCE . I am an umbrella maker, carrying on business with my father at 64, Bishopsgate Street—on 27th July the prisoner called there—I saw him, and received an order from him in the name of Peter Palmer—I asked him for his card—he pulled his pocket-book out and found that he was without a card, but he tore off the head of a memorandum form and said "That is me," and upon that was "Peter Palmer, 78, Blackfriars Road"—I have not got that piece of paper here; I have, looked for it, but have not been able to find it—I copied the name and address from the paper into the order-book—I have not got the order-book here—I afterwards went to that address—I did not find the prisoner there or Peter Palmer; he had gone about three or four days—the order he gave was for ten dozen ladies' silk umbrellas at 60s. a dozen, and they had to be made especially for him—I identify these two umbrellas as being part of the order—when he gave the order, I said that as he was a stranger it would have to be a cash transaction upon delivery—he said "Just so, but I shall require a little in the way of discount for it"—he left after that, and I promised that the order should be done by the following Friday; that would be in about four days—he said that I was not to disappoint him, and between that and the Friday when the order was completed, he called to see if we were getting on with it—I told him we were, and they would be ready in the time appointed—I saw him again when' he called for the order—I think that was on Friday, 30th July—he drew this cheque for 29l.; that was 3 per cent, off for cash—I saw him sign his name Peter Palmer—I believed that to be a genuine cheque certainly, and that I should get the money from the bank—I gave him a receipt and delivered the umbrellas to him—I sent the cheque through my bank early next morning, and it was afterwards returned marked "Not sufficient."
Cross-examined. He drew the cheque on 30th July, and gave me the order on the 27th—I am quite sure I saw him sign the cheque—he signed it as if he was not a good scholar—he took his time to do it—I supplied him with the pen and ink—he said "Pen and ink," and I pushed it towards him after writing my own bill out—I think he used the same pen as I did—he wrote the whole of the cheque.
LOUIS PREAGER . I am a wholesale clothier at 36, Duke Street, Aldgate—on 20th June the prisoner called on me and showed me this card. (Read: "J. Strauss, Piece Broker and Trimming Seller, 29, Brick Lane, Spitalfields"—I knew a gentleman named Strauss—in pencil on the card there is written "I recommend you Mr. Poncin"—the prisoner said I have been introduced to you by Mr. Strauss to make some clothing for me; I am a tailor myself and I want some clothing for some boys who are going abroad, and he recommended me to you as a wholesale man to get them up"—while he was speaking he handed the card to me—I showed him some black cloth and doeskins, which he selected, and I agreed to take 5l. 0s. for four boys' suits—he gave me the order and the measures for the boys—then he cast his eye round the warehouse and saw some skin vests on one of the shelves; imitation seal—he said he knew a party who was the captain of the vessel which was going to take the four boys away and he would speak to him about the vests—he came again on the 24th and gave me an order for twelve vests—he said he had seen the captain of the ship and he could not give me all I asked, that was 9s. 6d., that he was only going to get 10s.
himself, but he would give 9s. if I could afford it, and he would take a dozen—he did purchase a dozeu, which was 5l. 8s.—the amount of the goods I sold him altogether was 10l. 18s.—he paid my warehouseman by cheque—I did not take it of him myself—the cheque was sent to my bankers and returned marked in the corner "N. S.".
Cross-examined. He did not have the boys' suits, because they could not be delivered—the boy went to High Street, Deptford, and there was no such person in existence there,-and never had been, and I went there on two occasions—I know Mr. Strauss perfectly well—the prisoner spoke broken English, and of course I came to the conclusion that he was a foreigner.
GEORGE BASDEN . I live at 14, Diamond Street, Stepney, and am traveller far Mr. Preager—on 25th June I was left by Mr. Preager in charge of the establishment—he left a message with me with reference to the prisoner, and he called shortly after—he asked me whether the four boys' suits were ready, for him—I told him they had been sent to his place of business, the boy had gone with them—he seemed very much annoyed about it and said that he should have to go back into Deptford to fetch them—he afterwards said he had looked at some imitation seal waistcoats at 9s.—he should like to select some of them—I showed them to him, and he picked out twelve—he gave me this cheque for the four suits and the twelve waistcoats: "London, Jane 24th, 1874. Birkbeck Bank. Pay Mr. Louis Preager or bearer 10l. 18s. Poncin Edwarde"—"N. S."
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner write anything—he took out. the cheque and gave it to me.
EMANUEL HYAMS . I am an apprentice to Mr. "Preager—on 25th June I went with a parcel to Mr. Edwarde Poncin, 32, High Street, Deptford—I found that address and made enquiries there, but did not find Mr. Poncin or anybody representing him, and I came back with the parcel.
JONAS STRAUSS . I am a piece broker and trimming seller at 29, Brick Lane, Spitalfields—I know the prisoner as a customer—he has bought things at my place—this is" my card—there is some pencil writing on it—I did not write that myself or authorise the prisoner to do so.
Cross-examined. He has been several times, in my place and bought things and paid me—I gave him that card—he asked me if I knew a man who would make him two or three boys' suits, and I sent him to Mr. Preager to get them—I can't read writing—I never saw the prisoner write.
FREDERICK MORLEY HILL . I am an accountant at the Birkbeck Bank—on 10th November, 1873, a person named Poncin Edwarde opened an account and paid in 14l.—the account was practically closed on the 22nd of the month—the money was all drawn out but 2s. 10d.—these are cheques upon our bank and such as would be furnished to Poncin Edwarde—this cheque marked B bears the-signature "Poncin Edwarde"—it-was presented on 26th June last and is marked "N. S.," which means "not sufficient"—at that time he had 2s. 10d. in the bank—we have received a great many cheques in the name of Poncin Edwarde—on 7th July this year an account was opened in the name of Peter Palmer—this cheque is signed "Peter Palmer" and marked "N. S." in the same way—the amount paid in to that account on.7th July was 5l., and about eight days after a further sum of 4l. was paid in—it was all drawn out the same day—the last amount was drawn out on 20th July, leaving a balance of 4s.—this cheque signed "Peter Palmer" is dated 30th July—we have had a number of cheques in the name of Peter Palmer, and we have also written to him.
Cross-examined. I never saw the prisoner until I saw him at the Mansion House—it is not my duty to open accounts—the gentleman whose duty it is is not here—when an account is opened the customer signs his name in a book—the book is not here—I should say all the three cheques were in the same handwriting—I don't recollect seeing a man named Schneider at the Mansion House.
Witness for the Defence.
JOHN SCHNEIDER . I am a merchant, carrying on business at Tower Street Chambers—I have known the defendant about eighteen months—he is a tailor, living at 33, St. George's Road—I have known him living there six or seven months—I also knew him at 17, Lambeth Road—I know a Mr. Poncin, he was a commission agent and lived at 33, St. George's Road—I could not say where the defendant was employed; all I know is that he worked as a tailor—he had been a cutter-out for some one, but where I could not say—I never knew him doing any other work—I have known Poncin I dare say ten months—I believe the signature to this cheque to be Mr. Poncin's signature—I don't know where he is at this time—I have not seen him lately—I think the last time I saw him was four months ago.
Cross-examined. I don't know anybody named Peter Palmer—Poncin lived at 33, St. George's Road, Lambeth—he was there last. March—I can't say how long he lived there—he is not like the prisoner in any respect he called at my office to offer some wine for sale, but I refused to buy it—I said "I will go and see a gentleman, give me your address"—he gave me the address—I afterwards said the gentleman would not do with the wine and gave him the sample back, and that is all I know—I have been a merchant for the last sixteen years—I buy and sell anything—I get several commissions from France and Germany—I don't deal in clothes or umbrellas—I deal in wine generally.
Re-examined. Poncin was a commission agent—he was only introduced to me about wines, and I called upon him afterwards and returned the samples—he wrote his address in a book—I did not bring the book—that is the only writing of his that I have seen.
GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. MILLWOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
GEORGE BROWN . I am a pawnbroker's assistant, and live at 13, Francis Street, Deptford—between 3 and 4 in the afternoon of 17th August I was on London Bridge, looking at a boiler that was on a van—I noticed the prisoner close to me: I had my watch taken out of my pocket, and on looking down I found my chain hanging down, it was broken—I saw the prisoner walking off towards Tooley Street—I got a policeman and gave him in charge—I asked him for my watch and he said that he had not got it—I have not seen it since—it was a silver watch and worth 35s.—the prisoner was standing on my left side when the watch was taken.
Cross-examined. There were about twenty people there all round the boiler, and I was amongst them—there was not much pushing—I felt a tug—I noticed the prisoner close by me—there were others close by but I did not notice them so much—I should not know any of them again—it was two minutes or so before I saw a policeman—the prisoner walked away after I felt the tug—I had never seen him before—I was not speaking to
Haddon—I had never seen him before—he went to the station, and I heard what he said.
JOHN HADDON . I am a hair-dresser—on Monday afternoon, 17th August, I was standing on London Bridge about 2.30—I saw the prisoner snatch the watch from Mr. Brown—he passed it to some one else—he stood still for about half a minute and then walked about six or seven yards away—the prosecutor felt down and said "I have lost my watch"—I said. "Yes, that is the person who has snatched the watch from you."
Cross-examined. There were about fifty or sixty persons there—I was about half-a-yard from Mr. Brown—the prisoner was between us; Brown was on his right side, and I was on his left—I did not see anyone in front of me—there might have been someone on the other side of me, but I can't tell you whether there was or not—I should think it was two or three, minutes before the prisoner was given into custody—I kept my eye on him while Brown went for a policeman—I pointed the prisoner out to the policeman—the prosecutor was present—I said "That is the man who took the watch."
GEORGE HAMPTON (City Policeman 780). On Monday afternoon, 17th August, Brown came up to me on London Bridge and I took the prisoner, in consequence of what he said, on the charge of stealing his watch—the prisoner said that he did not take the watch, and the other witness came up and said that he saw him take it.
Cross-examined. The prisoner said he knew nothing about the watch and that is all he said—when I got him to the station he said "I would sooner pay the chap for the watch than be locked up"—I took the prisoner in consequence of what Haddon said.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been-before convicted in April, 1872**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN LAWFORD . I live at 35, Litchfield Grove, Finchley, and am a brickmaker—on Tuesday, 11th August, I was standing at the gate of a field opening into the Finchley Road, about 5.30 in the afternoon—it would be about 100 yards from the Queen's Head public-house—I heard the sound of horse's feet coming down the road and I shot out into the middle of the road, and saw a vehicle coming with a horse at full gallop in the direction of Einchley—I should think if was going 13 miles an hour on the off side of the road, the wrong side—it was a two-wheeled cart—it was about 200 yards from me, as near as I can guess, when I first saw it—I saw the old man Gregory coming out of a garden close by before I saw the horse at all—he had a barrow of potatoes and was going towards Finchley, in. the same direction as the vehicle—he was on the off side of the road when he first come out of the garden and crossed the road—there was a piece of matting laid in the road about 5 or 6 feet from the off side—he put his barrow down, picked the matting up and chucked it in hedge, then he went back to his barrow and proceeded along the road—that was before I saw the horse—I was behind Gregory all the time—he was going towards the Queen's Head—the horse and vehicle passed me, and from what I could see of it the man never changed his course in the least—I could not say that he checked his speed
at all—I was behind him when he ran against the man with the barrow he dragged the man and barrow before him 52 feet—I ran and picked the old man up and we took him over to the public house—I pulled my rule out of my pocket and measured the distance at the time—the cart struck with the near wheel on the off side of the barrow—he was between the barrow and the path—I have measured the road where it took place—it is 21 feet wide—the barrow was 14 feet from the near side, that was from where the barrow struck the ground, and on the off side between the barrow and the path it was about 5 feet 6 inches—there was a clear space between the be arrow and the near side of 14 feet—I picked up the old man and found him bleeding from the leg—I can't say which leg it was—the driver of the cart was brought back again—the prisoner was the man who was driving the cart—I said to him when he came back "Are you drunk?"—he said "I have had nothing to drink"—he was detained and a constable was sent for and he was given in custody, but a doctor was sent for first—the prisoner pulled up the horse about 40 or 50 yards beyond the place where he had dragged the barrow—the road was straight where the old man was and there were no other vehicles passing along the road at the time—I did not hear him shout or call in any way for him to get out of the way he sat very quietly in the cart with the reins in his hands when he passed me—there would have been ample room for him to have gone clear on the left side—I believe the prisoner had had something to drink by his appearance—I did not smell him at all.
WILLIAM ANDERSON . I am a labourer, and live at 7, Stanley Terrance, Church End, Finchley—on Tuesday, 11th August, I saw the old man Gregory coming along the Finchley Road with a barrow load of potatoes he was on the off side of the road about 5 feet 6 inches from the footpath—I was coming towards him—I saw the prisoner coming up the road with a horse and cart going about 12 or 14 miles an hour—the horse was galloping and was on the off side of the road—he never altered his course or tried to pull up or slacken his speed, and he smashed into the poor old man—the off wheel was on the off side and the near wheel caught the man and the barrow—there was not room between the footpath and the barrow for him to pass—he dragged the man and the barrow 52 feet—I called out to the prisoner to stop and ran after the horse and brought it kick to where the injured man was lying—the prisoner pulled the horse up about 30 or 40 yards from where the barrow was left—he appeared to me to be the worse for drink by the way he behaved himself—a sober man would never have done it—he laughed at it, and if he had been sober he never would have done that—I did not see any other vehicles to prevent him passing on the near side—the old man's name was John Gregory—I had known him for years.
Prisoner. I did not laugh—I stood against the mare's head and said I was very sorry.
JONATHAN STREAMES (Policeman S 113). About 6 o'clock on 11th August I was sent for to the Queen's Head, and saw the prisoner standing outside the house—I saw the old man—he was bleeding, and I sent for a doctor—I told the prisoner I should take him in custody for furiously driving and causing injuries to the man lying there—he said he was very sorry—he had evidently been drinking, but he was very excited at the time—he cried very much at the station—I took the old man to the University Hospital, when he was immediately attended by a doctor—at the time I first went up the
prisoner had been detained some time, and the deceased was lying on the cellar-flap, and the doctor was dressing his wounds—I conveyed the prisoner to the station, and the deceased to the Hospital, in the same cab.'
CHARLES JAMES MANNING , M. R. C. S. I am House Surgeon at the University Hospital—John Gregory was brought there on 11th August—I did not see him at that time—I took charge of the wards on the 17th—he had a contused wound on the outer side of the left knee, and a great deal of brusing, with profuse suppuration of the leg; and I had to make two incisions to allow the escape of pus—he had congestion of both bases of his lungs, and we found upon a post-mortem examination that he had fatty degeneration of the heart and gangrene—I think the cause of death was some injury he had received to the left leg—I think a younger man, with a sounder constitution, would have recovered.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I was going up the Finchley Road, having left my master at Saint John's Wood, and the mare shied, and I hit her twice; she then shield, again, but what she shied at I don't know; just as she shied I could not pull her away from Mr. Gregory. She was only a four year old mare, and gets hold of the bit; she was in the habit of stopping at a place, and has not been properly broken in. After I left my master at Saint John's Wood I had no drink. I lived with the Marquis of Anglesea for three and a half years; his coachman would speak for me."
Prisoner's Defence. I was on my near side when I was coming up, and the mare shot across; she broke into a canter at first, and when I struck her she shot right across the road and went against John Gregory, and she set off and got hold of the bit on the near side; I tried to pull the bit from her mouth and could not. I pulled her up as soon as ever I could; she was only a four-year old mare.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, September. 24th, 1874.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. BESLEY and WEATHERFIELD the Defence.
GUILTY— Judgment respited.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, September, 24th, 1874.
Before Mr. Baron Ampldet.
MESSRS. BESLEY, MOODY, and SIMS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. DOUGLAS and HARRIS the Defence.
CHARLES DABBS . I live at Falcoln Mews, Marylebone—I had a son named William Henry Dabbs, who was ten years old on the 11th May—he had attended St. Mary's School, York Road, Marylebone for about three years—I believe it is a national school—on Friday, 4th September, I saw him at 8.45, when he came in to wash to go to school—he was then in excellent health and
as cheerful as ever I saw him in my life—I got home between 3 and 4 o'clock and he was at home and asleep, and by 6 o'clock I saw him and some tea was given to him—I saw him again at 9.45, when he sat up and wanted to go down to the closet—he slept in the same bed with his elder brother who had carried him home on his back, and who about 3 o'clock in the morning called me up, and I found the deceased quite delirious—I sent for Dr. Lewis who came, and who called in Dr. Drew, who only came once—the child never recovered consciousness, and died at 1 o'clock in the day on Saturday, 5th September—he had always enjoyed excellent health except when he had the measles about eighteen months ago—he was not a dull, lethargic boy, quite the reverse—more than six years ago he fell from a loft window on to a butcher's block, and then to the ground—he was quite a little fellow, quite a baby—he pitched on his left hand, being left handed—his wrist was hurt and he had a severe black eye, the left eye—those were the only visible marks of injury—he was taken to the hospital, but was not there more than a week, and was then discharged cured—he was running about in three days—I have never known him to suffer from any disease of the head, and he has lived with me from his birth.
Cross-examined. He was between three and four when he fell from the loft—I say that it was about six years ago, and I go by a neighbour's child being born about a month afterwards—my son found that out—I never measured the height of the loft, but I guessed it at 14 feet—he did not pitch on his head—I think the butcher's block was more than 3 feet high, and from that block he pitched on the ground.
WILLIAM HENRY BUNKER . I live at 72, York Street—I made this model of the class room at St. Mary's National School (produced)—it is on a scale of three-quarters of an inch to a foot—this rail projects three inches from the wall—the space from the wall to the nearest seat is 8 1/2 inches, and the seat itself is 8 1/2 inches, and the space between this seat and the desk, where the boys' legs go, is 4 inches—the desks on which the boys write are 13 inches wide and 2 feet 5 inches high—it is 21 inches from the wall to the front of the desk—the rail is slightly worn by the boys' hands—a chalk mark was made where the boy stood, and one of the boys sat down and said "Dabbs sat here."
Cross-examined. The rail has got rounded where the window is, but it is quite sharp at the other parts—the part where the boy was wounded, is not worn away, but it is rugged.
WILLIAM JAMES ALLEN . I live with my father, a paper-maker, at 100, Seymour Place—I shall be ten years old on the 28th of this month—I went to St. Mary's School—Dabbs was in my class, which the prisoner had charge of—when we were in class the prisoner called Dabbs out for talking and playing, and hit him on the hand with a cane, one blow—Dabbs then went back to his place in the school—(J was present when Mr. Bunker took the drawing for the model)—this was about 11.15; we begin school at 9 o'clock—I sat just in front of Dabbs—after he had been hit on the hand and had gone back to his seat the prisoner required the boys to show copies—that was nearly 11.30—the boys have to stand up between the seat and the desk and hold up their copies, and the prisoner passes along the desks and examines them—he began here, he had examined my copy and gone to the row behind and came to where Dabbs was standing and struck him between the ear and the eye, but a little above the ear—I did not hear the prisoner say anything—it was a pretty hard blow with his hand half, open and
Dabbs was knocked against the wall—the back of his head went against the wall—he leant back for a few minutes—the prisoner said nothing to him, but went on along the row and came to his usual place in front of the class—Dabbs then sat down in his own place and the prisoner asked him what was the matter—that was five minutes after the blow—Dabbs said that he was not very well, and asked to go down, to leave the room—that was before the prisoner asked what was the matter—they ask to go down by holding up their hands—the prisoner did not let Dabbs go down at first, and then he asked again a second time and it was then that the prisoner asked him what was the matter—he said that he was not very well, and the prisoner told him to go and stand down at the street door, but he did not go there, he was sick on the stairs and then he went into the yard and I saw him no more—he was about the same size as me and when I stand up the rail at the back of the desk reaches my head—when Dabbs fell back his head knocked up against the rail.
Cross-examined. Dabbs did not draw back when the prisoner was going to hit him—it was a box on the ear, one blow only, I saw it all.
COURT. Q. Had the prisoner generally a cane in his hand? A. Yes, but not always, and when the boys behaved ill he punished them, with it—I don't know where it was when it was not in his hand—I have often seen him strike other boys with the cane, and have seen other teachers in the room at the time—I have seen him strike other boys with his hand sometimes half closed and sometimes open—he struck Dabbs like this. (With the back of the left hand)—I looked round before the blow was struck and saw it struck.
WILLIAM HUNTER . I live at 1, Bryanston Square, and am a pupil at St. Mary's School—I shall be eleven on 6th November—I was in the same class with Dabbs, the fourth, class, which is held in a long room divided by curtains into compartments—on 4th September the curtains were not drawn, they were back against the wall, so that you could see the other classes—I was sitting at the end of the second row from the wall, and saw. Dabbs when we showed copies to the teacher—the "teacher struck him on the head with his knuckles and he. fell back again the wall and the back of his head struck against the rail, but not very-hard—he afterwards asked twice, by putting his hand up, to go into the yard—he went into the yard and I did not see him again.
Cross-examined. It was not a striking against the wall, but he fell against the wall—he did not cry.
Re-examined. When he asked to go out the second time, the prisoner asked him to wait till the lesson was over.
COURT. Q. Did you see Howard use the cane that day? A. Yes; he was in the habit of using it if the boys did not act properly—he usually carried it in his hand, but not always—he kept it in front of the desk, so that anybody could see it.
WILLIAM GRAINGER . I shall be twelve next March—I have been at St. Mary's School about six months—I have known Dabbs ever since I have been there—I was in the same class with him—on this day I was sitting next the wall, and there were three or four boys between me and Dabbs—I remember Dabbs having a cut on his hand with the cane, from Howard—after that Howard came to examine the copy books, and he hit Dabbs across the left side of his head with his left fist—he bad nothing in his right hand.—Dabb went back against the wall, and his head went just under the rail
and struck against the wall—Howard then went on looking at the other boys' copies, and then went in front of the class—he has no desk, he stands there—Dabbs kept against the wall about five or ten minutes—he sat down, and when he went back to his place, Howard called out that he was to go more towards the right, to close up, and he did so, and that made two classes into one—Dabbs then put up his hand to go out; that was five minutes after the blow; and the second time he did so Howard asked him what was the matter—he said that he felt ill—I did not hear Howard tell him to go to the street door—he told him to go to the yard, and he did so; that was about 11.30—he was sick on the stairs before he went into the yard; and at 12.30, when I went out of school, I saw him on a bus in the yard, and he seemed very ill and white—he had never come back into the schoolroom—the prisoner did not send to inquire after him that I know of—it is a rule that before we break up at 12.30, every boy shall be in his place in the class, but Howard did not send out for Dabbs to take his place in the class before breaking up—before I saw Dabbs on the box in the yard, I saw him in the closet—I left him on the box, and went straight home at about 12.35.
Cross-examined. I have heard Dabbs complain many times of headaches—he looked very white when he complained—when he was playing he often got tired, and had to leave off; he felt giddy, and then he would look white and complain of his head—I said before the Magistrate "He fell back gently, and not with force."
Re-examined. He seemed all right before he went into school that morning, and was playing a game at "touch" with other boys—when boys do not want to go to school they do sometimes say that they have the headache.
COURT. Q. When he has said that he was giddy did he do that when just before he appeared to be perfectly well? A. Yes—Howard said that Dabbs' copy was done very nicely indeed, and then he struck him—when we stand up there is plenty of room to move; the rear of our legs does not touch the seat—Howard used to strike the boys with his hand, but he has a cane now—he had no cane in his hand when he struck Dabbs—I have seen him box the boys' ears many times—there were maps on the wall, and he had the cane in his hand as a pointer—he struck the boy with the thing he pointed out the maps with—I did not hear the blow that the prisoner gave him or hear his head strike the wall—there is a foot-rail under the desks.
WALDEMAR RICHTER . I am nine-years old, and live at 127, Crawford Street—I go to St. Mary's School, and was in the fourth class, with Dabbs—on 4th September I was sitting at the end of the row, and when Dabbs showed "his copy to the teacher, he struck him on the left side of his temple with his hand half-doubled, and he fell back against the rail—he turned white and sat down for a little while, leaning his head on his right hand: and when we were having arithmetic, he stood up and asked to go down, and, after he had asked a second time, I saw him go down into the yard, and I afterwards saw him sitting on the closet—he appeared to be ill, and I went to fetch his brother to fetch him home, as he was not able to go by himself.
Cross-examined. I think it was half an hour after the blow that he asked to go out—Howard did not hit his head against the wall, but the boy fell back—I have sometimes heard him complain of headache, but not very often—he did not complain of being giddy.
THE COURT considered that although the prisoner no doubt gave the deceased a flip which caused him to go back suddenly and strike his head against the wall which might have accelerated his death, yet having read the medical evidence and finding in it great discrepancy of opinion as to the cause of death, there was not sufficient to make out a case of manslaughter, and therefore directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. BESLEY, MOODY, and SIMS conducted the Prosecution; and
MESSRS. DOUGLAS and HARRIS the Defence.
WILLIAM KIMPTON . I have been head-master of St. Mary's National School thirty years—it is under Government inspection—there is one assistant-master and four pupil teachers—the prisoner was the senior pupil teacher—the rules of the school are out of print—I have a copy of them, in a cupboard—there is nothing in them about corporal punishment—with incorrigible boys, the head-master has the case submitted to him by the pupil-teacher, he would consult me or he would administer with a little switch or cane any slight punishment—the prisoner was in his fifth year of apprenticeship; he had the power to use the cane, and I have asked him occasionally to be gentle—that was not in consequence of anything that I had heard—I never authorised him to box the boys' ears—it has come to my knowledge occasionally that he has done so and I advised him not to do so again, and to bear more patiently with his pupils, but they were very obstreperous.
Cross-examined. I have had a great many pupil teachers in the school in thirty years, and have known them all at times to box boys on the ears—incorrigible boys cannot be controlled without it.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, September 24th, 1874
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BESLEY for the Prosecution offered no evidence, the prisoner having withdrawn the letter containing the imputation on the prosecutrix's character:
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FRITH the Defence. GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, September 24th, 1874.
For the case of JAMES KERR tried this day, see Surrey cases.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
and gave me a bad florin—I bent it and gave it back to him, and he paid me with 1 1/2 d. for the ale and 1d. for some tobacco—I am sure Stuart is the man.
Stuart. Q. How was it you did not detain me, you did not give me in custody for a week afterwards. A. You went out—two policemen afterwards called upon me to give evidence against you.
MARIA KNIGHT . My uncle keeps the Holly Tree, at Wanstead—on 31st August about 2.30, I served Stuart with a glass of ale—he gave me a bad florin—I told him so and he said "I took it at the railway station"—I gave it back to him, and he paid me for the ale with 1 1/2 d.—my uncle and Mr. John Baker then went out.
JOHN BAKER . I am a master bricklayer—I was at work at the Holly Tree, which is a little over three-quarters of a mile from Leytonstone—between 2 and 3 o'clock I saw Stuart come out, and in consequence of something I heard I followed him, and saw King and Harris (See next case) in a ditch about twenty or thirty yards from the house—they could see the house from where they were—I followed Stuart about a quarter of a mile towards Forest Gate—I afterwards returned towards the Holly Tree and met the other two walking together on the road towards Forest Gate—they were 200 or 300 yards behind Stuart—I fetched Mr. Heath who keeps the Holly Tree, and we went with a policeman after the prisoners towards Forest Gate—we came in sight of the three in about a quarter of an hour standing together in Upton Lane, West Ham—we did not go towards them—we went towards the Lodge Gate and as we did so King and Harris jumped the fence into the park—the constable secured King and I ran after Harris—Stuart was brought back by another constable—they were all taken in custody, and I afterwards went back to the place where I had seen them jump the fence and found thirteen florins and six half crowns, wrapped separately in tissue paper, some were in a bag and some outside—I handed them to the sergeant at the station—I have been to the spot with the constable since.
Stuart. Q. Did I look behind me to look at you? A. Once you made a motion with your band.
King. Q. Did you see me throw anything away when we jumped over the fence? A. No.
ROGER REILY (Policeman). On 31st August, I went with Mr. Heath after the prisoners, about half a mile from the Holly Tree, and saw the three in Upton Lane—I saw them jump the fence between two brick walls—I got hold of Stuart and charged him with uttering counterfeit coin—he said that he was innocent—the other two were taken, and King said that he knew nothing of Stuart, he was black berrying in a ditch, and that Stuart said "Get away from me or you will be locked up"—I found on Stuart 1 1/2 d., and on King 4 shillings and 3 sixpences and 14d. in coppers—on 4th September Baker pointed out to me a spot in Upton Lane.
CHARLES MOSS (Policeman K 603). On 31st August I went to Upton Lane with Mr. Baker and saw the three prisoners close together—on my appearing, King and Harris jumped the fence, and I took King in custody—I received these coins from Mr. Baker.
King. Q. Was not I walking quietly towards you? A. Yes; I did not see you throw anything away.
King's statement before the Magistrate: "I know nothing of Stuart; I had been blackberrying."
Stuart's Defence. These two men are strangers to me.
King's Defence. I was getting some blackberries to sell in, the streets; and Stuart, who was lying on the grass, asked me for a match; I gave him one, and we walked towards Stratford. He said that he had been unfortunate enough to take a bad florin at the Railway Station that morning, and I thought the best thing I could do was to get out of his company; I did so, but the constable took me. I had never seen the man beforehand did not know what he had done; he did no wrong while he was with me; the coins may have laid there for a week for anything I can tell.
They were both further charged with previous convictions of uttering, Stuart in October, 1870, and King in June, 1872, to which they both
PLEADED GUILTY. (See next case.).
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
The witnesses in the former case repeated their evidence.
HARRIS'S DEFENCE. It" is a strange thing that he should go back and find counterfeit coin when there was nobody with him.
STEWART** and KING**— GUILTY — Five Years' each in Penal Servitude. HARRIS— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
420. JOSEPH KILIAM (31) , PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Francis Leman Machell, and stealing therein one pair of boots, one pair of braces, and twelve cigars, his property— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. METCALFE, Q. C., and MR. SLADE conducted the Prosecution.
JANE OSBORN . I am the wife of Robert Henry Osborn, and keep the Post Office, at New Charlton—on 19th February, about 7 or 8 o'clock in the evening, a person came in and asked for ten one shilling postage stamps—I served him—I put the stamps on the counter—he put something on the counter, snatched up the stamps, and ran away—it was an imitation half-sovereign—I left it on the counter and ran after the man—a man named Pritchard was passing the door at the time and he ran after the man—it was a foggy night, and he escaped round the corner—the prisoner is the man—I saw him again on the 25th August in my shop—he came in with a man who I found out afterwards was a constable—I noticed that the man who took the stamps was very high shouldered and had a short neck—the constable did not ask me any questions—he said "Good morning, Mrs. Osborn"—I turned round and said "I know you, young man"—the prisoner said "What for!"—I said "You are the man who stole my stamps in the winter."
WILLIAM PRITCHARD . I am a labourer and live at 151, Powis Street, Woolwich—in February last I was passing the Charlton Post Office—I saw the prisoner run out of the shop—he nearly ran into my arms—I asked him where he was running to—he passed on ahead—I took a full view of him and ran after him, but he escaped—Mrs. Osborn came out and complained of the loss of the stamps—I am sure the prisoner is the man—I saw him again when I went up to Woolwich Police Court—he was with another young man in the yard, and I picked him out—it was dusk when he ran out of the shop—I can't tell the time.
JOHN DUMBLETON . I am a letter carrier, and live at Coburg Place, New Charlton—one evening in February I heard from Mrs. Osborn of the stealing of some postage stamps—J don't know the date—I saw the prisoner in the morning of that day as I was coming home from my duty—he was about 50 yards or so from the Post Office, leaning over a gate, and afterwards, about two o'clock, saw him pass my shop, which adjoins Mrs. Osborn's—he was walking then—I did not see him after that, but on the evening of that day I heard of the loss of the postage stamps.
PATRICK DAVIS (Policeman). On 19th February Mrs. Osborn made a complaint to me about the loss of the stamps, and gave me a description of the person who had stolen them, in consequence of which on 25th August I got into conversation with the prisoner when I met him in Woolwich—I had not met him before that—I took him ultimately to Mrs. Osborn's shop, conversing with him as I went along—I was in plain clothes, and I don't think Mrs. Osborn knew who I was at the time—she said "That is the young man who stole' my stamps"—he was afterwards placed in the station yard with another man similar to himself with a hunchback—the witness Pritchard was called in and picked him out.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he was in Greenwich Union at 6 o'clock on 19th February, and could not have been at Mrs. Osborn's shop.
GUILTY —He then PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in August, 1873. (See next case).
ANNA MARIA MOORE . I am the wife of John Sharp Moore, and keep the Post Office in Grange Road, Bermondsey—in February last I was employed at the Post Office in High Street, Borough—I was then unmarried, and my name was Hughes—on 10th March, about 6.30 in the evening, the prisoner came in and asked for 1l. worth of penny stamps—I took them out of the drawer, and before giving them to him he put his hand in his pocket for the money—he said that his hands were so cold he could scarcely feel the money, and threw something in paper on the counter—I pushed the stamps towards him, and took up what be threw down to me—he ran out of the office, and on opening the paper I found it contained a brass coin—I reported the same evening and sent the coin to the Head Office—I believe this is the same coin he put down—I picked out the prisoner afterwards, and I am quite certain he is the same man.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see Mrs. Osborn pick you out—you were not pointed out to me in any way.
Prisoner's Defence. I never saw the lady in my life in either case.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
MR. RIBTON conducted Hue Prosecution,; and MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH, with MR. LILLET, the Defence.
CHARLOTTE BERRY . I was in the prisoner's service on 27th August last at Church Street, Camberwell; it is a coffee and cook's shop—I had been in his service about five weeks—on the morning of the 27th I first saw my mistress a little before 10 o'clock—she came into the kitchen—she had on a light cotton dress and a bonnet and shawl, dressed to go out she did not remain in the kitchen many seconds, she went towards the shop to go out—I heard her cry out that she was stabbed; that was not many minutes after she had left the kitchen—the prisoner's sister was in the kitchen with me, she went in the direction the voice came from—I did not go—Mrs. Coppin ran out into the yard and I went out after her—the prisoner's sister was, with her before that—I did not see what she did—Mrs. Coppin had gone into the yard, and then I heard her cry that she was stabbed; the voice came from the yard—I and the sister were in the kitchen—the sister went into the shop to send some one for a doctor—I went to where Mrs. Coppin was—I found her in the yard—that was after I heard the scream—she told" me she was stabbed—I saw that she was bleeding—she went up stairs; she was able to walk up—I and the prisoner's sister went up with her—we put her on a sofa and partly undressed her—we could not undress her quite—I did not notice where the prisoner was at that time—he came up a few minutes afterwards—the deceased said she was sorry it was him, and that she had aggravated him to do it—the doctor was sent for and came.
Cross-examined. The prisoner always behaved with great kindness to his wife while I lived with them—they kept a coffee-shop and sold meat 'pies—he used to get up about 5 o'clock in the morning—it was her duty to make the paste for the pies—on this morning she did not get up, and he was left without anyone to make the paste—it was his habit every morning to out the meat for the pies—it was a very short time between the time she came down and the time I heard the scream, not so long as you have been talking to me—she would have to go through the kitchen into the shop to go out of the house—the prisoner was cutting up the meat in the kitchen—on coming down stairs to go out, she would have to pass through the kitchen where he was engaged with the knife cutting up the meat—I don't know what made her go into the yard; she ran right through the kitchen into the yard—that was after she was stabbed—she was stabbed at the bottom of the stairs before she came into the kitchen—I saw her run through, and I went after her—I heard the scream, and that brought me to where she was—I first saw her in the kitchen after hearing the screams—it is a very short distance from the kitchen to the foot of the stairs, 2 or 3 yards—I did not notice where the prisoner was, at the time I saw her—I saw him soon after, about ten minutes after—he came up stairs—he appeared to be terribly distressed at seeing her bleeding—he called for brandy and kissed her—I did not hear him call out for somebody to go for a doctor—his sister sent for the doctor—she came up immediately.
Re-examined. There is no passage from the kitchen to the bottom of the
stairs, only a little square place—the deceased came down stairs into the kitchen before the stab—I am quite sure of that—when she left the kitchen she went upstairs or towards the stairs.
By THE COURT.—She did not go towards the stairs after she was stabbed, but before—she went upstairs after she was stabbed—I did not hear her come down stairs—the first that I knew of her being down stairs was hearing her say "I am stabbed"—she had not come into the kitchen at that time—after she said that she ran through the kitchen into the yard and then went back through the kitchen and went upstairs—I and the prisoner's sister were in the kitchen—the prisoner had got up early that morning as usual—he was cutting up the meat shortly before the deceased came down—he had been doing that for about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—he left the kitchen two or three times in the course of the morning—I did not notice that he had left just before this—I noticed that he went out once, but that was about ten minutes before; he came back—my back was towards the stairs when I heard the cry—I could not see the stairs; I could see the place where the prisoner had been standing cutting up the meat—he was there a little time before—I did not notice him particularly.
EMILY CAROLINE COPPIN . I am the prisoner's sister—I lived in his house at Camberwell five weeks—the night before 22nd August he came home a little after 6 o'clock—he was in a state of intoxication—I do not remember what time he went to bed—his wife slept with me that night—he was in the habit of getting up at 5 o'clock in the morning, and his wife between 7 and 8 o'clock—I don't know at what time she got up that morning—she. did not come down till 8.30 or 9 o'clock—she went into the kitchen—she had been down about ten minutes before this happened—I did not hear her scream; I heard her call out—she came down about ten minutes before the occurrence and went up again, and then came down dressed—I was in the kitchen with the servant—the deceased did not come into the kitchen; she had not got so far as the kitchen; she had only got to the door—she had her bonnet and shawl on, dressed to go out—that was the first I saw of her that morning—I saw her when I left the bedroom; I did not see her after that till she came into the kitchen—I saw her when she first came down, then she went up again and came down dressed to go out—she came into the kitchen; it was not half a second after she came down the second time before I heard her call out—I heard her run down the stairs, and a minute afterwards she called out "I am stabbed"—she was then at the foot of the stairs—the prisoner was at the door of the kitchen that leads to the stairs; he had a knife in his hand—I went towards the deceased; she was standing—I saw blood flowing from the wound—she ran into the back yard, and then came back and went up stairs—I run into the shop and asked a man to run for a doctor, and when I got back to the kitchen door the deceased came back into the kitchen and ran up stairs—I and the servant followed her—I undressed her—the prisoner came up from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour afterwards—when he came into the room she said "I am sorry for you, Walter; I hope you will not be punished"—she lived nearly an hour after that—she prayed that the Lord would receive her soul.
Cross-examined. He was very much distressed upon seeing what had happened to his wife—he gave her brandy, and did everything that man could do, till she died—I took off her gown, stays, and petticoats—I lived five years with them during their married life—he always treated hid wife with great kindness.
JOHN PEACOCK . I am a carpenter, and lodge at the Walmer Castle public-house, Peckham Road—on the morning in question, about 10 o'clock, I went to the prisoner's shop to have some coffee—after I had been there about ten minutes, I heard screaming from the room at the back of the shop; previous to that I had heard no sounds at all—I saw the prisoner standing just inside the door of the back room in front of the door—he had a knife in his hand which he was using—he saw me when I entered; he looked towards me—I did not hear him say anything; he was using the knife cutting up some meat—I was asked to fetch a doctor; the prisoner said "I have done something now, and a doctor will be no use"—he was then in the same spot where I first saw him—it was two distinct sentences.—his words were "I have done something for you, Emma"—that was while I was being asked to fetch the doctor, because I hesitated at first; I wanted to know why I was to fetch a doctor, I did not see any reason for it—when he said "I have done something for you now," he called out in a voice as if he was addressing himself to somebody up stairs—the screaming was the first thing I heard—I rose from my seat and looked round, and then I saw the prisoner, and I was applied to by the sister to fetch a doctor—I did not hear the prisoner say anything before that—it was about the same time, while the sister was asking me to fetch the doctor, I heard him call out "I have done something for you, Emma," and "A doctor will be-of no use"—they were two sentences; there was a pause between—I went and fetched the doctor—where I came back, the prisoner was seated in the front shop at one of the tables, and he directed the doctor where to go; he said "Up stairs in the front room"—I then left.
Cross-examined. His words were "I have done something for you now, Emma"—I made use of the same words before the Magistrate—I believe I made use of the word "Emma;" I meant to do so—those were the words. I heard—(Looking at his deposition) I can't say whether they omitted it or did not hear me mention the name "Emma," or whether I mentioned it; "I certainly recollect that he did make use of the name, whether I said it before the Magistrate or not; I believe I did—he was engaged cutting up the meat almost up to the very moment before I heard the scream.
By THE COURT. I saw him cutting the meat before I heard the scream—I had been in the shop nearly ten minutes before I was attended to—I could see where he was cutting, I looked round several times—I heard four or five screams in succession from the same voice.
EDWARD PIN DEB . I am a physician and surgeon, of Grove Lane, Camberwell—I was called in on the morning of the 27th August—I found the deceased on a bed upstairs bleeding from a wound about 4 inches below the apex of the heart, it extended diagonally right across the body and penetrated the liver, wounding the large vessels of the liver, from which' she bled to death—I did what I could—she lingered about three quarters of an hour—the wound must have been inflicted with immense force—a knife was shown to me. (Knife produced)—I made a post-mortem examination—when I saw her she had only a chemise on—the prisoner came into the room two or three times while I was there—she was continually repeating prayers, she called upon God to forgive her her sins, and appeared to be dying in a very pious frame of mind—I desired him to. give her some brandy and told him to kiss her—I asked him to beg of her to forgive him—he simply shook his head and muttered something—the wound was undoubtedly the cause of death.
Cross-examined. I did not catch any observation that the prisoner made, I don't think he said anything, not audibly, he muttered something, but he seemed unwilling to ask her to do what I wished him—I don't think I can go to the extent of saying that he was in great distress of mind at what had occurred—the direction of the wound was from below upwards.
By THE COURT. The depth of the wound must have been 6 inches, it is a long knife, it must have gone up nearly to the haft.
JOHN PEARMAN (Police Serjeant P 50). On the morning of 27th August, about 10.15, I was called to this house—I found the deceased lying on a couch, and the doctor was there—about a minute after I had entered the room the prisoner-turned to me and said "I am in your custody, I shall not leave"—I then turned to the deceased and asked her if she wished to make any statement with reference to what had occurred—she said "I aggravated Walter to do it, may the Lord have mercy on my soul"—I asked the constable, Wylde, who was present, if he had procured the weapon—the prisoner, in answer to that, said "You will find it downstairs, it is a knife I borrowed from Mr. Gold's, the butcher, opposite"—I went down and found this knife lying on the dresser in the kitchen, with two or three pounds of meat—there was some meat on the dresser partly chopped up and two or three knives lying near, one broken close off by the handle—I took this knife upstairs, and when the prisoner saw it he turned to me and said "That is the one"—I remained in the room till the woman died—the prisoner was in his shirt sleeves and apron, and as soon as she was dead I asked him to go into the room and put on his coat, and in passing into the room he became very excited and said "She is dead, I am a murderer, take me away"—he was taken to the station in a cab' and there charged with the offence—he made no reply to the charge—on the way from the station to the police court I asked him if he had any family—he said "No, or this would not have happened.
EDWARD GOLDS . I am a butcher, and live at 38, Church Street Camberwell—I know the prisoner—on 27th August, a little before 10 o'clock, he came over and asked me if I could lend him a knife, as he had broken his own—I lent him the one produced—he asked me to touch it up, he said he wanted it to cut bread and butter—I sharpened it and gave it to him—he was in the habit of buying meat from me—I did not notice any difference in his manner at the time, he might have been a little excited, that was all.
HENRY WYLDE (Policeman P 243). I was sent for on this morning—the prisoner said I was wanted upstairs—I went upstairs and found the deceased lying on a couch—she did not make any statement before the prisoner came up—about ten minutes after the doctor came she said that she had aggravated Walter to do it, and she hoped he would not get punished for it—he said he had done it in a passion and he was very sorry for it.
MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH, in his address to the Jury, controlled that in the absence of premeditation or malice aforethought, the Jury could only find a verdict of manslaughter. Mr. Baron Bramwell, interposing, stated that the direction he should be compelled to give to the Jury was that if a person, without lawful cause, and without such circumstances as would reduce the offence to manslaughter, inflicted a deadly wound upon another, from which death followed, he was guilty of murder; although the thought to do it never entered his mind till the moment he gave the-fatal blow.
GUILTY — DEATH .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
425. WILLIAM ELI FOWLER (31) , PLEADED GUILTY to four indictments for stealing 18l. 5s. 8d., 16s., 3l. 12s. 10d., and 1l. 7s. 3d. of John Brandram Peele and others, his masters— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
426. CHARLES SMITH (25) , to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Fassett Charles Burnett, and stealing therein a coat and other articles his property. There was another indictment against him for cutting and wounding, with intent to prevent his lawful apprehension; and fourteen previous convictions were proved against him**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
427. THOMAS SOMERFORD (46) , to stealing a coat and pair of shoes of William Simmonds White; also to stealing a coat, of Robert Scarber; also to stealing a metal can of Gerrard Burton, having been convicted of felony in February, 1865— Four Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
PHILIP CARPENTER . I keep a general shop in Hill Street, Walworth—on 27th August about 9.30, I went into the shop and saw my wife serving the prisoner with half-a-quartern loaf, a halfpenny caudle, and a bundle of wood, the price was 4 1/2 d.—my wife brought me a crown—I put it in the till and gave the prisoner the change, and directly she was gone, having suspicions, I went to the till and found it was bad—there was no other crown there—I gave it to the constable—I gave the prisoner in charge three or four days afterwards.
Prisoner. I was never in your shop in my life. Witness. I am positive of you.
Prisoner. It was not me.
ELIZABETH SMITH . I am the wife of William Smith, of 1, Devonshire. Place, Walworth—on 7th September I sold the prisoner a candlestick for 3 1/2 d.—she gave me a crown—I said "Have you no smaller change?"—she said "No"—my husband gave me the change—I gave, it to the prisoner, and she left the shop, and turned towards the Common—I gave the crown to Mr. Smith, who examined it and took it into an oil-shop, and then went after the prisoner and brought her back—I am sure she is the same woman—I said "You are a wicked bad woman to give me a bad 5s. piece"—she said "A gentleman gave it, to me on Sunday evening." Prisoner. I own going into her shop, but I did not know it was bad. William Smith. On 7th September I gave my wife change for a crown, and saw the prisoner in the shop—after she left I found that it was bad—I went to an adjoining oil-shop and had it weighed—I then went after' the prisoner and found her with a man—I told her I wanted her to go back to the tin shop—she said "Not me"—the man said "You had better go back and see what it is"—You know where you got it from don't you"—I had not mentioned anything then.
MARY ANN GARLICK . I keep a provision shop at 11, Deacon Street, Walworth—the prisoner came to my shop seven weeks ago to-morrow about 9.45 p.m., and bought four penny eggs and a box of matches—she gave me a crown and I gave her 4s. 6d. and 1 1/2 d. change—a man came in while she was in the shop and wanted to be served in a hurry—I laid the half crown down thinking I would try it—I afterwards put it between my teeth, found it was bad—marked it with the letter "A," and gave it to the constable.
Prisoner. It was not me.
JOHN DOLLING (Policeman P R 13). On 7th September, William Smith gave the prisoner into my custody for passing a bad half-crown—she said that she was an unfortunate girl, and a gentleman gave it her—I also received a crown from Mr. Carpenter, and another from Mrs. Garlick.
Prisoner's Defence, I own to going into Mr. Smith's shop, but I am as innocent as you are.
GUILTY *— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GILL conducted the Prosecution.
JESSE REDDING . I live at 2, St. Matthew's Place, Brixton—on the evening of 19th July about 9.10, I fastened my parlour window with a common catch, and went to bed soon afterwards—I came down in the morning about. 5.30, and found some plants which had been in the window, removed to the front garden—the window was shut, but unfastened—I missed things belonging to my son, and my wife's cape.
JOHN MERRITT (Policeman P 231). On 20th July about 4.20, am., Mr. Monk met me in Cold Harbour Lane, and made a complaint—about ten minutes afterwards I saw 'the prisoner and two others coming in a direction from Mr. Monk's house—I asked them what they were doing at that early hour in the morning—they refused to give me a satisfactory answer, and I told them that I should take them on suspicion of being concerned in breaking into Mr. Monk's house—they all separated and called out "Escape"—I followed the prisoner and took him, and found this boy's jacket in the middle of his back between his coat and the lining—he said that he picked it up coming from Croydon—this stick which is cut like a chisel corresponds with marks on Mr. Monk's house—the prisoner was carrying it in his hand.
Prisoner's Defence. I picked up the jacket in a ditch in Cold Harbour Lane. Two men asked me for a lucifer, and while I was speaking to them the policeman came. The jacket was under my coat, but not between it and the lining, because there was lining to it.
GUILTY *— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. There was another indictment against the prisoner for a burglary at Mr. Monk's.
MR. DE MICHELE (for the defendant) objected to the Indictment, the matter before the Magistrate, upon which the perjury was assigned, not being material to the issue, the charge being one of assault on Eugene Fisher, and the perjury assigned being the prisoner's denial in cross-examination of having seduced Fisher's niece. He referred to "Reg. v. Murray," 1st Foster and Finlayson, as being a case in point. Mr. Straight (for the prosecution) submitted that it was material' inasmuch as it was necessary for the Magistrate to Know what the extent of the provocation was, and how far the witness could be relied on. The Court, having consulted The Recorder, considered that the assignments
of perjury could not be maintained, the questions not being sufficiently relevant to the inquiry then proceeding, and directed the Jury to return a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD HANCOCK, JUNR . I am assistant to my father, a grocer, at Mortlake Green—on 15th September the prisoner came into my shop for some bacon—I served her—she said she would pay for it in the morning—she went out, and returned shortly afterwards not to buy any things; he told me some story about a woman who was tipsy in "her bed, and asked me what she should do—after she was gone I missed a piece of bacon—there were no. customers there then—shortly after, she came in for some butter and paid for it, and in going out I saw a piece of bacon under her arm—I followed her and asked where she had got it—she said she had paid 15d. for it at Mr. Crunch's, the grocer's, in High Street—I said she had not, she had just taken it off the counter, and I had missed another piece also, which I believed she had—she said she had not, I might go to her house and search—I went to her house with the constable, and he found the piece of bacon in the back kitchen—I can swear it was the same piece I lost, it weighed about 3 3/4 lbs.—the prisoner was not sober, but I believe she perfectly understood what she was about, for when she saw the policeman she ran away from him. Frederick Orgles (Police Sergeant-V R 18). I went with Mr. Hancock to the prisoner's house—she saw me coming and ran away—I ran after her and told her that Mr. Hancock charged her with stealing a piece of bacon—she said she did not think' he would have been so hard upon her, as she had dealt with him—she said at first she had bought" the piece of bacon, and afterwards that she was going to pay for it—in the back kitchen I found another piece, which Mr. Hancock claimed—she said she did not know how it could have got there, she believed she had bought it—she had been drinking, but knew what she was doing—she ran about 200 yards before I caught her.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "All I have to say is I have no recollection, but very likely I have taken it. I was not in a sensible state; I can't say whether I took it or not."
Prisoner's Defence. I hope you will not be hard upon me—I was not really sensible—I am very sorry if I have done it.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
BENJAMIN TOWNEND . I live at 132, High Holborn; it is a grocers, carried on in the name of Joseph Chapman & Co.—on 8th July, 1873, there were two boxes of biscuits, each weighing 38 lbs., outside the shop door—I saw them safe in the morning and missed them the same night when we
closed the shop—some time in the same month I was shown two boxes in the hands of the police—they had private marks on them—I could swear to their being the two I missed—28 lbs. were still left, the same class as the biscuits in my tins—I know nothing of the prisoner.
REBECCA NORRIS . I am the wife of Joseph Norris, of 94, Great Guildford Street, Southwark—two women, named Emily Lucy and Elezabeth Hill, came to my place the first Monday in July, 1873, and looked at two rooms on the first floor, and next Monday John Lucy and Charles Warner came there—they occupied the rooms until the police came and made a search—I saw two biscuit tins taken away—I had not seen them brought there—I never saw the prisoner before the evening he came with a man named Rabout.
WILLIAM PUDDICK . (Detective P). On 10th July I was keeping observation in the neighbourhood of Horsemonger Lane Gaol—two men named Warner and Parsons were there in custody on another robbery—I saw a man named Lucy, and took him in custody on another charge—I afterwards went to 94, Great Guildford Street, about 7 o'clock in the evening with Nevill-We watched there some time and saw the prisoner and Rabout enter the house—they knocked at the street door, got admission, and walked upstairs to the back room first floor—we followed them and asked them for the key or the front room, or whether it was locked—Robout said he did not know—I said to the prisoner "Who are you?"—he said "I came here with him"—presently two females came up and went into the front room—I asked Mrs. Hill if that was her room—she said "Yes," and she occupied it, and she knew Rabout—I said we had come to search the-place, we had got Lucy, Warner, and Parsons in custody—we searched the room and found two boxes of biscuits—I showed them to Mr. Townsend—I found one box in the back room where the prisoner was—he was standing there—he had his hat on—I asked the women how they accounted for the things being there—they said they did not know anything about them, some strange man must have brought them there—I then asked the prisoner and Rabout, and they never spoke—we found a lot of property, some in the back room and some in the front, and a number of pawn tickets.
THOMAS NEVILL . I was with Puddick when we found the property—the prisoner was committed for trial in July last year and ought to have surrendered here in September, but he did not—I saw nothing of him till he was taken into custody the other day, coming out of Clerkenwell prison.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGUE.
WILLIAMS the Defence.
CHARLES HUNT (Policeman X 164). On 21st July I was instructed to ride on omnibus P. S. 1,304—I cannot tell without looking at my memorandum book, at what time the journey commenced or ended, or how long it lasted—I made the memorandum the moment I alighted from the bus, about a minute or two after—I got into the omnibus in Holywell Lane, Shoreditch—that is near where it starts from—I got in at 3.9—I rode inside—I got down in Mount Street, Camberwell—the prisoner was the conductor—fifteen passengers, including myself, rode inside on that journey
—I paid 2d.—I rode again by the omnibus on 22nd July—I rode on 25th August from Mount Street, Camberwell at 7.45 p.m. to Holywell Lane, Shoreditch—I rode outside—the prisoner was the conductor—there were seventeen passengers, including myself—I paid 2d.
Cross-examined. This is the only book I have—I began these journeys on the 18th, and went on up to about 27th August—I could not say how-many times I have travelled up and down between 18th July and 22nd August—I could not tell without my book. (Referring)—it was seven times by the prisoner's bus—I could not say how many times by other busses—I have been on several busses—I could not say within twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty-times—I could not say how many—I am a witness in three of these cases—I am a witness against two other men who are awaiting their trial on these same charges—the system I adopted was to carry the number of passengers in my head, until I had an opportunity of making the entries at the end of each journey—that was so every time I travelled; no other check—I don't know the distance of the journey from Camberwell to Shore-ditch, I am a stranger about that part—I should say it would take about an hour—I was not at this every day from 18th July to 25th August—we left off from 1st August to the 24th, and then went on from the 24th to the 27th—I can't tell the number of passengers that travelled, or any of the particulars, without consulting my book—all these entries relate to different bus conductors—I can't say whether some of the days were showery or not, they might have been—I could not say whether the 21st July was showery or not, or the 25th August—I know that it is the custom for gentlemen to change from outside to in if it rains—I have not known a gentleman to get outside to oblige a lady, I never saw it while I was travelling—I know that sometimes several passengers get in at once—I sometimes sat at the further end, and sometimes in the centre—I can't tell you where I sat on 21st July—on the 25th August I rode outside on the seat at the top—I always sat at the end near the driver—I could not see the conductor when he stood off the step on the ground—I can't say how often I counted the passengers from the Gate to the Elephant—it might have been 150 or 200 times—I never got confused or muddled with the passengers—I counted them as they got in and got off—I could not have made any mistake in the number of passengers—I cannot recollect without the book where I got down on the different occasions, or at what timer I always made my entries in the street, about a minute or two after I got out of the bus, when I got into a convenient spot—without looking at my book. I could not recollect what bus I checked on 22nd July, and that applies to every day—I distinguish the busses by the letters, I mean by the letters P. S. and 1,304—the busses have different letters on them—I put down the letters and the number of the bus beforehand—I did not notice any monies being paid—I did not make any copy of this book, we made a return after we completed our journey; Dove did—on one occasion I altered the figures I had made—I did not make a mistake—I did not write a 4 over a 5 or a 5 over a 4—I wrote the figures down, and I thought I should not have room enough to travel on another journey, so I put the figures up higher—there has not been anything rubbed out here, only worked out by my finger writing over it—this is "11.30 a.m., Elephant and Castle, thirteen inside," and then 12.38 p.m.; 11.30 was the time I entered the bus, and 12.38 was the time I got out, nothing has been rubbed out there—I did not say before the Magistrate "I made the entry at the
Elephant and Castle, it is written over a mark, I can't say what was there before, or who rubbed anything out"—I explained to the Magistrate that I thought I had not sufficient room to write it down there, so I left off there and wrote it higher up, and it might have got rubbed out by the working of my fingers—I mean to swear that I never said before the Magistrate "I can't say what was there before, or who rubbed anything out"—I said I could not say what was there—I don't recollect saying "or who rubbed anything out"—I did not say that, I am quite certain of that; I explained to the Magistrate how it was—I said "I can't say whether anything else has been rubbed out;" that was referring to the "1;" I could not see it without a glass, I mean the "1" alongside the "12.45"—I was referring to that particular entry—I had a magnifying glass given me to look through, I could see then that there had been a mark, not that there had been a rubbing out, unless it was with my finger in putting it down with the pen—there had been something there before—I am not aware that I at any time wrote a 5 over a 4 or a 4 over a 5—I was asked that before the Magistrate—this is the entry. (Pointing it out), the 5 has not been written over some thing, that I am quite sure of—the "Oh" at the end of the word "Borough" has not been touched up with a pencil afterwards after the other letters had been written; that is where I wetted my pencil, as it marked dull.
Re-examined. I can't say whether that relates to this case—I was in plain clothes, and travelled for the sole purpose of counting the passengers.
THOMAS DOVE (Policeman X 69). On 21st July I travelled by the omnibus P. S. 1,304, of which the defendant was the conductor, and got outside at Worship Street at 3.10 p.m., and travelled to the Walworth Road, that is nearly the end of the journey—I counted the number of passengers who rode outside, there were nine, including myself—I paid 2d. for my fare—shortly afterwards I made an entry in this book, I made it a few minutes after I got out of the omnibus, it might have been five minutes, or it might have been ten.
Cross-examined. Hunt and I do not always go together, we did on this occasion—I commenced on Saturday, 18th July, and went on up to 3rd August—I then left off altogether, and have not been since—I went on four or five different omnibusses—I generally took two on the same day, sometimes I rode inside and sometimes out—on this occasion I was outside—I sat in the centre of the knife board, the seat that runs along the roof—I could not always see the conductor when he was standing on the ground—I dare say I have made thirty or forty journeys on these busses altogether, or it might be more—I have been checking other busses also on the Mile End Road, not during the same period, I began at Mile End some time in June—I can't tell how long I kept on—when I got on the bus I counted the number of passengers, and when I got down I put it in my book—I pursued the same plan at Mile End—sometimes it might be five minutes after I got down that I made the entry, when I found a convenient place to put it down; it was not very often more than five minutes, I don't suppose at any time it was more than ten minutes, on some occasions it might have been as much.
WALTER ANDREWS (Policeman X 149). On 24th August I rode in the omnibus P. S. 1,304 of which the defendant was conductor—I got inside about 7.53 p.m. in, Amelia Street, Walworth Road and travelled to Camomile Street, Shoreditch, that is nearly the end of the journey—I counted the
number of passengers who rode inside, there were eighteen including myself—after I got out I made this entry of the number of passengers—I paid my fare 2d., no, the fare was 3d.—I paid 3d., I rode the whole way—on 25th August I rode in the same omnibus: the prisoner was conductor—I got outside at the Shoreditch station at 6.53 in the evening and rode to Amelia Street, Camberwell—I counted the number of passengers, there were twenty-two outside, including myself—when I got down I made the entry that I have here—I paid my fare in the ordinary way—I was in plain clothes.
Cross-examined. I do not belong to the division in which these busses ran—I never heard that the police were allowed to travel free at times—this is the first I have heard of it—I have been in the force just five years and I never knew that—I commenced watching this line of omnibuses in July and left off in August, and may have travelled a dozen times on this line of omnibuses—I would not say it was not more or less, I say about a dozen times on this and other busses on this 'particular road—I have been on other roads from Kennington to Charing Cross, not during the same period—I have been on other roads on three different routes—I always pursue the same system—two minutes would be the longest time after a journey that I have made the entry—I always made them in the street, not in any house, I waited till the omnibus was out of sight and then made the entry—I mean to say that the fare from Shoreditch to Amelia Street is 3d?, there is no mistake about that; oh, I beg your pardon, it is a 2d. fare, my thoughts at the moment were running upon some other (busses, it is a 2d. fare.
GEORGE DOWDELL (Policeman X 335). On 24th August I travelled by the omnibus P. S. 1,304—I got up at Camberwell at 7.45—I got down at Shoreditch at 8.20—the prisoner was the conductor—sixteen passengers rode outside, including myself—on 25th August I travelled again, inside—I got in at Shoreditch Church at 6.48, and got down at Camberwell at 7;25—the prisoner was the conductor—there were seventeen passengers inside, including myself.
Cross-examined. I may have been about eight or nine days on this road—I was on another route on the same days for the same purpose—I have only been on those two routes—I can't say exactly how many times I have travelled by omnibuses for this particular purpose; perhaps about fourteen—I was told off to this special duty—I always pursued the same plan of entry in the book; I could not keep all the things in my memory—I made the entries as soon as I got off the busses or got a chance—it might be a minute or so after; not very much more—it might be two. or three minutes; very little more—I always made them up some street or other, the same street or some bye street.
WILLIAM ROW (Policeman X 281). On 25th August I rode by the omnibus P. S. 1,304—I got outside at the Walworth Road at 7.57 p.m.—I sat at the end near where the conductor stands—I rode to the Great Eastern Railway—I counted the passengers who rode inside on that journey; there were seventeen—Hunt was outside on another part of the omnibus—when I got down I made the entry in this book within three or four minutes.
Cross-examined. It might be eight or nine times that I have ridden on this route for this purpose—I began on 21st July, and went on up to 26th August—I was on one other route between those times; I was told off for this special duty—I always pursued the same system of marking down at the end of the journey, and relying on my memory up to that time—as a
rule I made the entry two, three, or four minutes afterwards, never more—I always made the entries in the street—I am not still on the same duty I did it last on 26th August—I have not began again since then, not on any route; I beg pardon, it was the 27th August—I never rubbed anything out—I don't recollect rubbing anything out—(Looking at the book) it certainly does look as if something had been rubbed out here—I have a doubt about it; this "Kingsland Road" is my writing.
WILLIAM CLACKWORTHY . I am a clerk in the service of the London General Omnibus Company, at the Shoreditch office—the conductors have printed forms issued to them, and they are put up inside the door—the conductor then marks on those way-bills the number of passengers who travel by the omnibus; according to the fare that is paid he makes a line on the bill, and at the end of each journey it is his duty to put the way-bill into the box at the office, and the following morning it is his duty to hand in a summary of the previous day's way-bills and leave the money, with that summary—it is my duty to compare the way-bills with the summary and the money to see that it is correct—I then hand over the bill to Mr. Pilkington, and he enters the amount in the book—I produce the way-bills for the omnibus P. S. 1,304—I believe they are in the prisoner's writing—they are put in the box—I have been in the habit of receiving those way-bills for months—all the conductors have access to the box—I. could not say that the prisoner has been the conductor of omnibus P. S. 1,304 for some months—he was in July, and I think for about two months—I am not able to state whether he was the conductor on 21st July without referring to the book—I produce the whole of the way-bills for the 21st July for that omnibus—they all appear to me to be in the same writing, but I can't say that they are in the same writing as the previous way-bills we have been in the habit of receiving for that omnibus—Mr. Pilkington could testify to that better than I could—he is in the habit of looking at these bills more than I am—on the morning of 22nd July I received this summary of the way-bills of the previous day—it is in the same writing, but I could not swear whose it is—I handed it to Mr. Pilkington, and it was his duty to enter it in a book.
EDWARD PILKINGTON . I am a clerk in the office of the London General Omnibus Company—I keep a book in which the summaries are entered—Hughes was the conductor of P. S. omnibus—I fancy I know his writing—I have never seen him write—I have seen him in the office—I have seen him about way-bills—I can't say on what occasions—if they don't put them in of a journey, I tell them of it—I can't say that I have received any waybills from him—I think I have spoken to him about way-bills—supposing there was anything short I should show it to him—I don't remember that I have pointed out to him any particular way-bill—the printed forms are sent to the waterman to be given out—these are the forms of the Company—a sufficient number are delivered out for each omnibus.
WILLIAM CLACKWORTHY (re-examined). I don't remember that I have ever received any of these way-bills from the prisoner personally—I have spoken to him about some errors which he has made, once or twice, and I had the way-bills before me when I pointed, out the errors—I can't recollect now what the errors were—the writing on the way-bills I have spoken to him about, resembled the writing on these way-bills—I can recollect the writing he always used to send in.
Cross-examined. The way-bills were put into a box by the different conductors,
and were all mixed up—I can't tell the date when I spoke to the prisoner about any way-bill, but I know I have spoken to him about errors he has made, of 2d. or 3d. or something of that kind—I have spoken to other conductors in the district I have command over—there are eighty or eighty-five conductors—I am not prepared to speak to the handwriting of those eighty-five conductors—I have spoken to a great many of them at different times.
Re-examined. The way-bills are all signed and the summary is signed—I can't recollect how many months the prisoner has been in the service; three or four I think—I have the whole of the way-bills and the summaries for P. S. omnibus, for the three days in question—it went eight journeys in the day—I have here the whole of the way-bills and the summary for the 21st August.
MR. WILLIAMS submitted that there was not sufficient evidence to go to the Jury, there being no proof of the prisoner's handwriting to the waybills. Mr. Poland contended that as it was proved that the prisoner was the conductor of that particular omnibus on the day in question, that was sufficient to connect him with the waybills. The Recorder did not consider the evidence satisfactory, and Mr. Poland therefore called the prisoner's solicitor.
JOHN WILLIAM HICKLIN . I am the attorney for the prisoner—I first acted for him at Southwark Police Court—I have not received letters from him—I have not seen him write and I do not know his writing—and except in the dock here and at the Police Court I have never seen the prisoner—my clerk is here.
MR. POLAND stated that he could not carry the evidence of handwriting any further. THE RECORDER. It must have been within the reach of the prosecution to have had better evidence to show the accounting of the prisoner, it is not proved and you must acquit the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner, which was postponed until next Session.
MR. A. B. KELLY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BUCK the Defence.
GUILTY on the Second Count — Eight Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Baron Amphlett.
MESSES. STRAIGHT and Bagally conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
THOMAS BERRY (Detective P). On the night of 3rd August, I was with Nash in the Station Road, Newington, about 9.30, and saw the prisoner standing outside the Elephant and Castle Railway Bar Tavern—he said "Good evening"—I said "Good evening."—he-said "I was just looking after a policeman, we want to get a prostitute from this room"—I said "All right"—he went into a little room, I followed him, and saw a female sitting quietly at one of the tables with a small glass in front of her—he said "This is her," or "Now, will you come out"—an old gentleman (the deceased) was sitting behind her—it is a wide seat serving for two tables—
two young men were sitting at the other side of the table and one other female—the prisoner caught hold of the first woman's hand when he spoke, and she said that she would go out as soon as she had drank her wine—he then caught hold of her arm—she had the glass in her hand—he pulled her out of the seat, caught hold of her hand and smashed the glass up in it—he then swung her round in his arms, carried her to the door and dropped her on her legs on the pavement—they are folding doors and she caught hold of them, but I loosed her hand—I then stepped outside and said to her "Now you had better go away, if you get locked up it will be serious"—I had not said the words half-a-minute when I heard a rustling in the little passage which leads into the room—the folding doors are the outside doors into the street, they have embossed glass half way down, and one of them was half way open—I looked through them and saw the prisoner with his arms round the old gentleman who I had seen sitting on the seat, and saw him swing him round to the folding doors, and shove him very violently, and he came out backwards with his head about two feet from where I was standing—his head fell about two feet from my feet, right on the pavement and it went off in a crack like a cocoa-nut, you could hear it at some distance—I stood and looked at him for a moment; I went to his left side, but could not see that he fetched any breath—I then felt for his pulse, but found he had only a wooden stump for his left arm—I raised his head up on my knees but could not find that he breathed—my brother officer and I then slewed him round with his back to the house, and sent for a doctor—we got a glass of water and a chair from the house, and while bathing his head I saw blood running from his left ear—Dr. Hogg came and examined him and sent him to the hospital—he was then insensible all the time—I stayed at the hospital till 11.40 or 11.45 and saw the contents of his stomach pumped off—the women were both sitting quietly in the public-house when I went in—I did not notice that either of them was in an indecent position or had her dress disordered—when I got back from the hospital, the prisoner was just closing his house—he said "Stop a minute, I want to speak to you"—I said "I have taken that gentleman to the hospital, he is senseless and has not spoken since"—he said "It is a bad job."
Cross-examined. He said that he was very sorry for it—this is a ground plan of the premises—Mrs. Smith sat by the deceased's side, and Argent is the woman who was sitting at the other table side by side with him, and who was turned out—(The witness pointed out the potions on the plan)—the house is in front of the railway station, and the doors in question are just opposite the booking-office—this photograph shows both the doors pulled back, the counter is then shown to anybody standing on the pavement—these doors are, I dare say, about 2 feet 6 inches each, and the doorway would then be 5 feet wide—I should say that the distance from the cill of the door on the foot pavement to the counter is 3 feet 11 inches, within an inch 'or so—the door which swings back against the passage was open, and the front door being closed you could pass with facility to the sitting-room—the doors give inwards, not outwards—the left hand door was open, and you might then hardly pass into the sitting-room, there would not be much room—this other photograph represent the doors when they are closed—the sill at the threshold of the door is three-quarters of an inch above the flooring of the bar, and I would not say that it is not an inch—to get out of the house persons have to raise their steps to get over this little sill—the pavement
rises about three inches outside and slopes down a little towards the road—the deceased fell directly backwards on the back of his head—the right hand door was closed and the left hand door was on the strap, about 18 inches open—I was not on the opposite side of the way—I never went off the footway after I came out of the house.—I did not hear what passed inside when I was outside—all this happened in a minute or two—I know that witnesses for the defence were called at the police Court—I adhere to the statement that I actually saw the prisoner with his arms round the deceased—the wine glass was, I should think, broken into a large quantity of pieces, but I did not notice it afterwards—it was certainly broken into more than two pieces—Nash did not enter the house on the first occasion—he was on the pavement—he was never out of my sight after returning from the hospital—he was in the waiting-room—he was ordered out of the police Court, I believe, while the witnesses were examined—I was examined before, him—I said that I had a glass of beer at that time—Nash was out of court then, and I believe he was afterwards asked if he had a glass of beer and he said "No"—I should say that there was a teaspoonful of liquor in the glass which was broken, there was very little—the prisoner did not ask the woman to leave more than once—he spoke to her about twice—the first words were "Now, perhaps, you will come out," and before he would allow me to speak to her he got hold of her hand and pulled her out—he might have repeated what he said, but it was in a very short time.
CHARLOTTE SMITH . I am the wife of William Smith, a carpenter, of 27, Edward's Place, Aldersgate Street—on the evening of 3rd August, I met the old man who is now dead, outside the public-house—I had seen him before at Chichester Market as a cattle dealer—he invited me to have something to drink and we went into this' public-house—nobody was there then but ourselves—two glasses of wine were ordered, and we remained there fifteen or twenty minutes—I then went out, leaving the deceased in the waiting-room—no impropriety took place between us and no complaint was made by the barmaid or the prisoner of any immorality, nobody spoke to me—I saw Argent outside the public-house, something passed between us—I went back into the waiting room and she followed me—two young men were there then, sitting at a table, and Argent went and sat at the same table Argent and I and the deceased had three glasses of wine between us—a young woman who was called for the prisoner at the police court, served us and Argent paid for the whole—she was the young woman who had served us at first—she made no complaint—about five minutes after the three glasses were brought, the prisoner came into the waiting-room and told Mrs. Argent to go out, as he did not want prostitutes in the house—she said "I will as soon as I have drank my wine"—the prisoner then took' hold of her and pulled her out of her seat and broke the glass in her hand—he did not say anything, he lifted her out very roughly to the door—she had made no disturbance and had only been in a minute or two—as the prisoner came back, to the parlour the deceased and I were going towards the door and the deceased said "I suppose you would serve me the same if you thought you could"—the deceased had a wooden left arm—I went on and went out at the outer door, and after I got out I heard a scuffle and saw the prisoner into he passage with his arms round the old gentleman, trying to force him out very violently—he had got his wooden arm in his pocket at that time—the prisoner pushed him out at the front door, and he came down on the back of his head on the pavement very heavily indeed—Nash and Berry, who
were outside, picked him up and supported him and I bathed his face with cold water—the prisoner did not come out—he nearly lifted the deceased round in putting him out—there was no indecency or immorality on the part of the deceased or Argent or myself.
Cross-examined. I said to the Magistrate "I cannot say whether his heels caught on the sill or not;" "The prisoner pushed him with one hand first out of the door;" "He had one hand against his shoulder and he pushed with both"—I don't think. I told the Magistrate that the prisoner had his arms round the deceased—he was a very stout man—I am not separated from my husband, but he is in Millbank Prison for deserting his regiment—I was in the New Kent Road, about 100 yards from this public-house when the deceased came up, and he spoke to me first—I had seen him at Chichester about six years ago, but did not know his name, I only knew him as a cattle dealer—he said "I have seen your face before," and I said "Not in London, it must have been in Chichester," and he said "In the market"—I had started for a walk with Argent at about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, but was not with her long, because she left me about 8 o'clock; we walked together from Aldersgate to the Elephant and Castle—we were in the public streets all that time—I think we went into two public-houses—I did not perceive that the deceased had too much to drink—I sat at the furthest table from the waiting-room—I know the counter from which we were supplied with the sherry—I did not unfasten the bosom of my dress while I was sitting at that table, nor did I take the old gentleman's hand and put it into my bosom—I did not go out with the intention of finding Argent—before I left, the deceased gave me a shilling to pay for the wine—I did say before the Magistrate "When I went out to look for Argent I met her"—that was a mistake; I did not go out to look for her, but I met her in the same street, and told her I was at that public-house with a friend—she said that she would be in in a minute, and she came in about a minute after me, and the deceased said to her "This little girl I knew at Chichester," and she directly sat down with her back to us—I did not" see the prisoner's wife or the barmaid call him, and nothing was said to the deceased in my presence about behaving improperly—I was absent from him five minutes—it is true that the prisoner asked Argent two or three times to go out, before Beny came in—I don't think I told the Magistrate that he was about five minutes asking her to go out—I did say "I did not see him put her out," and to-day I say that he carried her out—I have no explanation to offer of that—I was standing up; I had passed the doorway of the waiting room, and the deceased followed me; my back was to him—I did not hear a voice say "Take care, Mr. Brisco's head will be pushed through the glass"—I did not pay attention to what was said—I did not hear any one say that they would smash his b——y nose.
Re-examined. I am twenty-two years old—I was quite a girl when I knew the defendant at Chichester—when I left the public-house it was for my own convenience—I intended to return, and I left my wine on the table—I had parted with Argent at 8 o'clock, and met her again at 8.45; that was quite accidental—I had made no appointment to go home with her afterwards.
MR. BESLEY to Thomas Berry. Q. In describing the fall, before the Magistrate, did you say "It appeared that the man could not get his heels over the threshold?" A. Yes, he went over without bending or scuffling—I thought that his heels caught against the sill.
MARY ANN ARGENT . I am the wife of Richard Argent, a printer, of Edmund's Place, Aldersgate—on the-evening of 3rd August. I went alone to the bar of the Railway public-house by the Elephant and Castle—Mr. Massey was there and Mrs. Smith—I went to the bar, called for a glass of sherry, and sat down—I had not sat there three or four minutes before the prisoner came in and said "How dare you be here? you are a prostitute"—I said "How dare you say that to me? you had better mind what you are saying"—he said "Well, go out"—I said "I will, certainly, when I have drank my wine, but not before"—he went to the door, came back with Mr. Berry, and then said "Now, will you go?"—I said "Yes, when I have drank my wine"—there had not been the slightest impropriety; I had done nothing and had seen nothing done—I took up my glass to drink my wine, and he seized my arm and smashed the glass in my hand, and threw me out in the street—of course, I tried to prevent it, but I could not—I then turned to Mr. Berry, and said "Sir, you see the way in which he has served me, and I am neither drunk nor insulting"—I had hardly got the words out of my mouth, when I turned round and saw the prisoner with the deceased—I was between three and four yards from the door—they were struggling, but the deceased could not do much because he had only one arm; the prisoner had his arms round him, and the barman, I think it was, just opened the doors for him—perhaps nobody else saw the barman, but I did—he only opened one door, the left-hand door as you come out of the little waiting-room; the outer door—as they came out they faced each other—the prisoner seemed to have turned him round, he seemed to then push him with two hands, and he fell and lay there three-quarters of an hour—Mrs. Smith bathed his face, and Mr. Berry held his head—a little blood came from his ear—the prisoner did not come out—I said "You cowardly villain, look what you have done"—I can't say exactly what I said, but I called him a coward—he did not say anything, but went back into the house.
Cross-examined. I told the Magistrate that I did not leave home till 4 o'clock—my husband lives with me—he was not out with me, he was at work—I have been drinking at the bar of this public-house six or seven times—I have friends in the neighbourhood—I have lived in the neighbourhood and often go there—I may have been in the house half a dozen times with Mrs. Smith during the last month and with other friends—I left Mrs. Smith at 8.30 and met her again at 8.45—I have not said "I met Mrs. Smith first at 8.30," they have it quite wrong; I said that I was at the Elephant and Castle at 8.30—I did not notice that it was wrong when it Was read over to me—I told the Magistrate I had gone down there simply for a walk—I told the Magistrate that I was married at St. George's Church—I did not say what St. George's—I left the gentleman to put that himself—I will not answer where I was married—I am not married at all—the prisoner did not tell me to go away or I should get into trouble—the deceased's hand was on the bar to prevent his being thrown out, and the barman moved it—I was looking through the embossed glass—I was not at fill excited when I was put out, but I called him a villain after he had thrown the old gentleman out—I saw the chair sent for, some minutes after the deceased had lain on the ground.
COURT. Q. Then it is not true that you met Mrs. Smith at 8.30 for the first time? 4. No, we live together almost—when I left her at 8.30 I was going to the Old Kent Road—I had not made an appointment to meet her
again, but she said that she had been to see if she could see me, that she had come out to look for me, because she had a friend from Chichester, and I said "I think I will have a glass of wine before I go," and I went in, not with her, but immediately afterwards.
WILLIAM NASH (Policeman P 216). I was with Berry and saw him go into this public-house—I remained outside and saw Argent put out by the prisoner—while I was saying something to her I heard a scuffle behind me—turned round and saw the deceased in the prisoner's arms struggling with him—the prisoner's back was towards me—I saw him turn the deceased right round, bringing his back to the door, the left half of which immediately flew open as though somebody had given it a push inside—the right hand door was not open at all during the scuffle—the prisoner then drew his arm from around him, put it on his breast, and gave him a push; and he fell heavily backwards right on the back of his head—I went for a doctor and afterwards took him to the hospital.
COURT. Q. Did you see the deceased's heels kick against the sill? A. No—I saw no stumbling, the force with which the prisoner pushed him would be sufficient to send him down—I don't think he tripped up at all.
Cross-examined. What I saw I saw through the space between the door in the street and the door that was fastened, that was two or three inches—the door nearest the waiting-room, the right hand door, was never opened at all—I did not hear Berry say before the Magistrate that it appeared that the man could not get his heels over the threshold and that he came out backwards—I never said till to-day that he did not catch his heels against the sill; I was not asked—when I came back from the hospital Berry said that it was a sad affair—I did not volunteer the statement "We came away without so much as having a glass of "beer;" I was afterwards asked if it was whiskey, and that. I admitted.
Re-examined. I have heard of mistakes in depositions before—I was off duty and it was not contrary to rules to drink—the left door was on the swing, and the right was not—I did not see the potman.
JOHN DAVIS . I am a furniture dealer, of 150, Lower Kennington Lane—on the evening of the 3rd August I was on the opposite side of the road, passing this place, and saw the door go open and the deceased shoved out—it was a clean fall, he did not stagger first—I did not see where his feet were—from the sill of the door to the pavement the height is about 1 1/2 inches—I did not measure it, my wife was on ahead, and I went after her.
Cross-examined. I first went to Mr. Fullager (the solicitor) eight or ten days afterwards, or it may have been more or less—I did not go before the Coroner or the Magistrate.
THOMAS DAVIS RANSFORD . I was House Surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on the night of 3rd August Charles Maffey was brought there insensible—his age appeared to be 53 or 54—he was a very heavy man, about 18 stone—the house physician saw him first, there was a history about his being in a public-house, and it was considered that he was drunk, but when they pumped his stomach and found there was not much alcohol they sent for me and I examined the back of his head and found a very serious bruise—I thought the insensibility was due to that, and so I took him in—he continued under my treatment till he died on 12th August—he had never recovered his sensibility, he used to ramble in his talk—I made a postmortem examination on the afternoon of the 12th and found the brain very much bruised and partly lacesrated, and in the centre of the brain there was a
large spot—the whole surface was bruised, and there was also blood effused between the brain and its membranes—there was a slight fissure in the skull, but I cannot say whether that was caused by the fall or not—the injury to the brain was such as would be caused by an old and heavy man like that falling on the back of his head on the pavement—the injuries to the brain were, in my opinion, the cause of death—what was pumped from his stomach smelt very slightly, and therefore he could not have been drunk.
Cross-examined. Some people get drunk much more easily than others—I actually saw what was pumped from his stomach that night, and some one said that it smelt of spirits, but I cannot say positively that it did—he was brought in at 10.30—it is disputed what appearances on the brain drink produces, as no one has seen a man's brain when he was drunk—the vessels were charged with blood and it has been stated that the brain is congested by drink—but my examination was nine days afterwards.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN THOMAS GARDNER . I am a butcher of Brixton Hill—I have known the deceased about six years—I informed Mr. Crib of the Crown and Scepter public-house, that I had been with Maffey on the night of the accident—I attended and gave evidence at the prisoner's request—up to that time he was a perfect stranger to me—August 3rd was the bank holiday and I recollect the day on that account—I was near the Rockingham Arms about 8 o'clock that evening, which is not far from the Elephant and Castle Station, and saw Mr. Maffey in a state not capable of taking care of himself—I offered to accompany him in a cab to Streatham, but he would not allow me to do so—he abused me to some extent, but I tried all I could to persuade him to go home—he asked me to drink and I refused—I left him about 8.15—he was a powerful man of a little more than eighteen stone.
Cross-examined by Mr. Straight. I should think he was very strong, physically—any one could see that he was not capable of taking care of himself—I should not have dealt with him as with a sober man if I had not known him.
Re-examined. He was sitting in the public-house when I left him—that is about 100 yards from the place in question.
ANNIE FOULKES . My husband's name is Alfred—he is barman at the Railway Bar public-house and I attend in the bar—on the Bank holiday, August 3rd, the deceased came in in the evening, and went into the little waiting room—a, female was with him who I now know as Mrs. Smith—they sat down to a table and had two glasses of sherry—he walked steadily—while they sat there Mrs. Smith opened her dress in front and put the deceased's hand in—I am quite certain of that—they saw me-looking and then she put her dress up—I was then called to the other part of the bar, and while I was gone, the other barmaid served them with another supply of sherry, and Smith went out, leaving her sherry on the table untouched—nothing had been said to the deceased then, but I then said "You have not been conducting yourself properly, and if you don't conduct yourself properly I shall have to call Mr. Briscoe's attention to it as he will not allow it to go on in this room"—he said "Can't I enjoy myself with a friend over a glass of wine, it is very disagreeable"—Mrs. Smith then came back and Argent followed her—she had only been away seven or eight minutes—she
sat down by the man's side and Argent sat on the same seat, with her back to him, or rather sideways—I noticed them speak together—when Argent came in a glass of wine' was called for, and then three more glasses of wine—I then saw the deceased's hand under the table rubbing the woman Smith about, and I could see that there was some indecency going on under the table—I shook my head and said "That is not allowed"—I went away and waited to call Mrs. Briscoe's attention to it, but she was up dressing—she came into the bar in about seven minutes when I was serving. Somebody—she then came to me and said "Do you see what is going on?'—I said "That is what I want to speak to you about"—I made a complaint to her, and she fetched her husband from the other side of the bar—he went to them and said "Here, you are not going on in that way; you know you are not allowed to go on in that way in this room"—he requested them all three to go out several times—he said "I wish you to leave this room"—I heard Argent say "I shan't"—she also said "You dare not," or "You can't"—Mr. Briscoe then went to the door and fetched in the detective Berry—he then took hold of the woman by her shoulders and led her towards the door—she resisted and was very abusive, so he lifted her up and put her outside the door—she had had ample time to go out before Berry came in, and afterwards too—Mr. Briscoe then turned round to go into the room again, and the man and woman had risen and were standing between the fireplace and the door—he tried to persuade them to go out quietly, but the deceased said "I suppose you will try to serve me the same"—he said "I wish to do nothing of the sort, I wish you to leave my house quietly"—the deceased said "If you press me I will smash your b——y nose," and backed a little towards the door which leads out of the waiting-room, which is generally kept open—he then turned round, and somehow he got into the lobby where Mr. Briscoe was—he was still abusing Mr. Briscoe, and repeated twice that he would smash his nose—the two folding doors were open—the man was nearest to the waiting-room, and Mr. Briscoe was nearest to the door which was open—he had his back against the glass door, which was open—both the glass doors into the street were open—there was sufficient room for a person to pass through because it swings a little—one was on the strap and the furthest from the room was bolted back—the left one as you go in is kept on the leather, and the other swings if the bolt is up, but both doors were open wide—when Mr. Briscoe was in the lobby I saw the man pushing him, and I called out two or three times "Mind, Mr. Briscoe's head will go through the glass"—he was the nearest to the door which was furthest from the waiting-room—the deceased got hold of him and was trying to struggle, and I said "Mind Mr. Briscoe's head, for heaven's sake, will go through the glass"—Mr. Briscoe then put his hand on the man's coat and I saw the mango backwards—when he was falling I saw his feet inside the sill of the door—Mr. Briscoe never had him round the body with both arms from first to last, nor did he strike or push him in any way: had he done so I must have seen it—he had not put his hand on the deceased till the deceased laid" hold of him in front with one hand—there was no unbolting of the door by my husband: that is not true—he was behind them in the waiting-room near the fireplace—he could not have touched the door without my seeing him—when Mr. Briscoe found that the man was insensible, he gave directions that everything that could be done should be done, and I went out and bo did my husband, and a chair was taken in and come water—he asked my husband to go and see what could be done.
Cross-examined. From first to last Mr. Briscoe had treated him in the most gentle and-friendly way—the deceased was not much the worse for liquor, but he did not speak to me—he was perfectly sober to all appearances—he drank three glasses of sherry altogether in the house, and Mrs. Smith had the same, and the other woman two glasses—they were served with eight glasses—I was at this corner looking into the street when the deceased was going out of the waiting-room-first—the last I saw of it before I saw the man falling was Mr. Briscoe with his back against the door, but he was not leaning against it to support himself—the deceased was facing him, and almost instantly after that I saw the deceased fall out of the house.
ALFRED FOULKES . I am the husband of the last witness—after the woman had been put out and Berry had gone out, I was in the waiting-room, and when the prisoner came in from putting the woman out, the deceased said to him "You are going to put me out, I suppose?"—he said "No, I am not going to put you out, you can go out quietly"—the prisoner asked him more than once to leave, and he said-" If you put your hand on me I will smash your b———y nose"—they did not touch each other in the room, but I could not see what took place in the lobby—it is not true that I unbolted the door; I was not near it.
Cross-examined. The deceased was certainly not sober—he had had more than was good for him, and you could readily see it, but he was not reeling about—the two doors were both open that night.
JOHN REEVES . I am a cab proprietor, of South Street, West Square—on the Bank holiday night I was outside the Railway public-house, and saw the short woman come out first by herself, and Berry walk across the road talking to her, and he was talking to her against the railway door on the opposite side of the street, about ten yards off—I was about two yards from the door of the public-house, and heard high words passing inside the room, I could not distinctly understand what they were—I saw a big man coming from the waiting room, backing himself out, and,' as he did so, his heels caught the raised step and he fell with his head on the gravel and tar pavement——it is not true that the prisoner put his arms round him and threw him out, because I was close to him—I picked him up and took him to the hospital.
Cross-examined. When he fell over the doorstep Briscoe was in front of him, not between me and the man; I was behind the man—Briscoe had his back towards his bar, looking in the deceased's face as he was backing out—the doors were open.
BENJAMIN MOORE . I am an ironmonger, of Vassal Road, North Brixton—I was in the Railway Bar on the Bank holiday—I did not know the prisoner before that—I was not in the waiting room, but in the refreshment bar, the lobby—I saw the woman put out—when I first saw the deceased he was standing with his back to me and his face to the sitting room—Briscoe was just inside—I heard some conversation, but could only hear the words "Turn me out"—that was from the deceased to Briscoe—it was only part of a sentence—the deceased began to walk back, and then I saw that Briscoe had his hands up to the front part of the deceased, who immediately took a step back, and he had no sooner done so than I could see that his heels caught against the sill; it was only the work of a second—Briscoe did not take the deceased round his body with either one or both arms.
Cross-examined. I did say before the Magistrate "I then saw the defendant
catch hold of the deceased by his waistcoat or coat, I cannot tell which; I cannot say whether the deceased had hold of Mr. Briscoe"—when the deceased was lying down his heels were level with the inside of the door.
JOHN RICHARD POLAND . I am a solicitor's clerk, living at Holloway—on the Bank Holiday I was at the Railway Bar, in the small bar, and saw the deceased standing in the waiting-room—he came two or three steps towards me into the small bar, turned his back to me and faced Mr. Briscoe, and said "I suppose you would turn me out, would you, I will smash your b——y nose in," and he took Mr. Briscoe by the coat and said "Would you?"—he then took a step backwards and caught his heel in the step and fell.
MR. STRAIGHT here withdrew from the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. STRAIGHT and BESLEY the Defence.
He PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully wounding, and it appeared that the wound was occasioned by some portion of the pistol, in a struggle for its possession, and not by the ball. To enter into recognizances to appear and receive judgment if called upon.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. OPPENHEIM and MR. METCALFE, Jun. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SIMS the Defence.
MR. SIMS stated during the progress of the case that the Prisoner would withdraw his Plea and
PLEADED GUILTY, and the Prisoner having so stated, the Jury found him
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LILLY conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 26TH OCTOBER, 1874.