CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
TWELFTH SESSION, HELD OCTOBER 26TH, 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, October 26th, 1874, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR ANDREW LUSK , BART., M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir ROBERT LUSH , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Sir GEORGE DENMAN , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS , Esq., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., WILLIAM FERNLEY ALLEN , Esq., ROBERT BESLEY , Esq., Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., JOHN PATERSON , Esq., and HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM Kerr, Esq., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
LUSK, MAYOR. TWELFTH 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, October 26th, Tuesday, 27th; and
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, 28th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; MESSRS. BESILY and WARMER SLEIGH the Defence.
HENRY WILLIAM WILLIS . I am the chief usher at Marlborough Street Police Court—on 19th and 26th February Thomas Parrock and Mary Ann Cook were charged with stealing a portmanteau—the defendant was a witness—I administered the oaths to him on both occasions.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I don't recollect seeing a jemmy and knife in a policeman's helmet in Court on the first occasion—it was stated that Cook was a prostitute—I had not seen her in Court to my knowledge except on that occasion.
HENRY NAIRN . I am one of the clerks at the Marlborough Street Police Court—I was there on the 19th and 26th February—Parrock and' Cook were brought there charged with stealing a portmanteau, the property of Sir George Jenkinson—the defendant, Sergeant Brannan, was the first 'witness called in support of the charge—I took down the evidence that he then gave—no professional men were engaged on either side on the first occasion—Parrock cross-examined him—after other witnesses were called there was an adjournment until the 26th February—on that occasion Brannan was examined afresh—he gave his evidence again—I took it down—to the best of my belief Mr. Knox asked him if he would like to give his evidence again, entirely from the beginning, and he did so; he began again entirely—I thought his manner was very strange on the first occasion; I thought he seemed confused—his evidence was read over to him—I am not certain whether it was read over to him on that occasion; I think it was on some other occasion, and he signed it—I have the original depositions here—the charge sheet was put before the Magistrate—ultimately Tarrock and Cook were discharged.
The deposition of the defendant on 19th February was read, in which he stated that at 12.30 that morning he was in Talbot Road, Notting Hill, and saw Parrock and Cook standing by a green cart drawn by a grey horse; that he went up and they left; that he examined the cart and found the portmanteau; that the prisoners returned with a man not in custody, and kept going backwards and forwards near the cart, that he pursued them and lost sight of them, but afterwards took them into custody. In a further deposition on 26th February he stated that lie concealed himself in a doorway and saw Parrock come towards the cart with a man not in custody, place his foot on the step or wheel, and put his right hand into the, trap, and he and the other man then went round the corner in the direction of the Portobello Road; that Parrock returned with Cook and went of before they saw him, and he then came out and pursued them but lost sight of them; and that he then examined the cart and found the jemmy and knife; that on taking Cook into custody he told her it was for being concerned with a man in stealing a portmanteau, and that she first denied being with the man and then admitted it.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The charge sheet was before Mr. Knox on the 19th—the magistrate never hears a charge without having the charge sheet before him; it is rather before me as the Clerk, and it is handed up to the Magistrate if he wishes to see it—it does not always contain a list of the property found—I can't say whether the knife and jemmy was in it on 19th February—I did not know on the first occasion that Brannan had been thirty days on the sick list, and had only gone on duty the night before, until he stated it—I am not certain whether it was on the first or second occasion—it is, I think, correct that on the first occasion the Magistrate addressed him with considerable severity—I have been there about seven years—I have seen persons confused before Mr. Knox, I don't know whether it has been when Mr. Kuox has addressed them—on the first occasion nothing was said, I think, about the jemmy and knife—I have heard to-day, for the first time, that it was there in Court in the helmet of a police-constable—Mr. Knox allowed Parrock to go on his own recognizance on the first occasion, and Cook also—he remanded them for a week—I believe, on the second occasion, Brannan said that he was confused on the former occasion, and he asked to be allowed to give his evidence over again, and the Magistrate allowed that to be done—on that second occasion, besides Brannan, Varnham and Young were examined—on the first occasion there was Brannan, Varnham, Young, and Hart, police-constables, Edward Lee, the footman to Sir George Jenkinson, William Bryant, of 96, Stan hope Street, cab driver, and Henry West, the owner of the horse and cart—on the second day Brannan and Henry George, 360 X, were examined—there was then a remand till the 28th, when Inspector Hole and Henry Drewitt, 37 X, the sergeant who took the charge, were examined—Varn ham was recalled, Young recalled, Hannah recalled, and John Newman, the manager of the Green Yard, who found the jemmy wad knife; that completed the evidence—the prisoners then made their statements, and after that Ship and Goldsworthy and Richmond were called for the defence—I think on the second occasion Mr. Knox asked Brannan why he had not produced the knife and jemmy on the first occasion; he asked about it generally, how it was that it was not produced—he discharged the prisoners on the 28th—I fancy Mr. Knox said that he was glad he had never kept the man in custody for a moment, that he had allowed him to go out on his own recognizance, and that the non-production of the jemmy and knife
was conclusive to his mind—he said to Parrock that if he wished to take out a summons or to proceed against Brannan for perjury he would give him the necessary process—when the perjury summons was applied for by Parrock Mr. Knox sat and heard the case—there are two Magistrates at Marlborough Street, Mr. Knox and Mr. Newton—any of the other Stipendiary Magistrates can sit there—on the occasion of the summons against Brannan Mr. Edward Lewis, I think, was the solicitor acting for Parrock—he called the witnesses—Mr. Warner Sleigh appeared for Brannan—the two constables, Ship and Goldsworthy, had been examined for the defence of Parrock on the 28th—I don't recollect whether Mr. Knox suggested that they should be called again on behalf of Parrock—I don't remember his making use of the expression that with regard to Parrock and Brannan he must hangone or the other—I think he said something to the effect that if he discovered the charge of perjury against Brannan, he should be imputing something to Parrock; and if he committed Brannan for trial he should be lending himself to the charge of Parrock—I think Ship and Goldsworthy attended and Mr. Lewis refused to call them—I think Mr. Sleigh protested, and said that they ought to be put into the box for the prosecution—f think Parrock stated that he could not find the woman Charlwood; she was known at the time as Carry Baxter—I believe Parrock said he had made every endeavour to find her and could not do so—I believe Inspector Eccles said he thought he could find the woman to-morrow—I do not remember whether she was there at the next examination—I remember Mr. Lewis refusing to call her—I remember Mr. Knox saying that she and Cook were not a bit alike—I now remember the two women standing there—I think Rose Parker or one of the witnesses said that looking at the women from behind she could not tell one from the other—I don't know of my own knowledge that Mr. Knox went to the place where the cart had been standing—I believe he did, I was not there—T believe that Charlwood was in Court, and that Mr. Lewis declined to call her—I think on the previous occasion there was a suggestion that Brannan was keeping her out of the way—I believe she never was called at the Police Court.
Re-examined. The examination of the witness on the first occasion took some time—Mr. Knox addressed Brannan with some severity—Parrock cross-examined him and asked him some questions which had some relation to police duties, and Brannan said "I decline to answer"—Mr. Knox desired him to answer and I think he then said "That has to do with police duty and I decline to answer"—Mr. Knox then said "Are you aware that I can commit you for contempt of Court if you do not answer the question 1l" or something to that effect—"I desire you to answer the question," and he then did so—Brannan was more confused in the examination in chief; in the cross-examination he answered tolerably distinctly—on the second occasion he gave his evidence from the commencement; and he was then examined by both the defendants—he did not mention the knife and jemmy on the first occasion.
EDWAED LEE . I am servant to Sir George Samuel Jenkinson at 43, St. James' Place—on 18th February I arrived at the Great Western Railway Station, Paddington Terminus, by train, about 10.20—I took a cab there of which Bryant was the driver, and the portmanteau in question was put on the top of the cab with two others—he drove as far as Brooke Street, and on the way through Brooke Street my attention was called and I found the portmanteau was gone—the cab turned back—I saw a one
horse cart going away at a good rate—we followed it as far as the Bays-water Road, going in the direction of Notting Hill—I lost sight of it and then went to the police-station, John Street, Edgware Road—on the 19th the following day at 5 o'clock I got a telegram and went to the Notting Hill police station and there saw the portmanteau, and I afterwards saw it at the police-station and identified it.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I could not say that the portmanteau was either tied or chained on to the top of the cab—when I saw it again, it was unopened and undamaged—I did not go to the Green Yard and see the cart—I gave information at John Street, Edgware Road about 10.45, and they told me there they should telegraph to all the stations.
Re-examined. It was a large portmanteau and very heavy—the value of the contents was almost 40l. as near as I can say.
WILLIAM BBYANT . I live at 96, Stanhope Street, Hampstead Road, and am a cabdriver—on Ash-Wednesday, 18th February, I took the last witness and some luggage from the South-Western Railway Station—the portmanteau was put outside the cab, and I put a chain through it—it was about 10.20 when we passed the Marble Arch—when I got to Brooke Street, at the corner of Park Street, a female called out, and I saw the portmanteau being lifted into a cart by two men—there was one man in the cart, and he drove away—I immediately galloped after the cart up Brooke Street—I was stopped by an omnibus, which caused me to lose some distance—I got after them down the Bays water Road, and lost sight of them at West-bourne Street—I immediately took the valet to John Street Police Station, and gave information there—it was a dark green cart with wings over the wheels, a low tail board, and an iron grey horse—I afterwards saw the cart at Marlborough Street, and the portmanteau was there as well.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I should think the distance from West-bourne Street to Portobello Road is about a mile I dare say I could drive it in ten minutes.
Re-examined. Only one man drove away with the cart and the portmanteau.
THOMAS PARROCK . I live at 32, Addison Road North, Notting Hill—I was living there in February last—I was in the employment of John Taylor as a clicker in the boot and leather warehouse, and I am in his service still—I have been in his service since the 22nd July, 1872; previous to that I had been a police-constable—I was in the force two years and three months—I left on the 15th July, 1872—I was in the X Division and was stationed part of the time at Kilburn and part of the time at Notting Hill; the first part of the time at Notting Hill—I was dismissed from the force for neglect of duty—I knew the defendant Brannan; he was station serjeant at Notting Hill Station part of the time—I know a police-constable of the name of Hannah; he was in the same division, and I at one time lodged in the same house—I don't remember seeing Brannan after leaving the force until this matter occurred; on Ash-Wednesday, 18th of February, I left my home about 7.30 in the evening; I went to Bolton Road and various other places up to about 10 o'clock; I can give all the places if necessary—I met some woman; I don't know who she was at all—that was near the Admiral Blake—I walked with her through Salter's Fields, Lancaster Road; that is at Notting Hill, and we went through a farm—that was about 9.45, and while we were going through the farm we met two constables nun; d
Ship and Goldsworthy—they were in plain clothes—I heard one of them say to the other "Come on Jack, we will go this way," and they went in the direction of the Earl of Percy public-house—I knew them both as constables—I did not speak to them at all—I went after that into the Lancaster Road, and ultimately to the Clarendon Road, Notting Hill, and the woman left me there—I. don't know at all who she was; she was a woman I had picked up—from the Clarendon Road I went down Blenheim Crescent to the Blenheim Arms—I should say I had been in the woman's company about an hour—before I got to the Blenheim Arms I met George Richmond, who is an old friend of mine—we both come from Yarmouth—I can't say exactly whether I met him by appointment or by accident, I think it was by accident—I went with him to the Blenheim Arms; that was about 10.30, I believe; we remained there until 12 o'clock—before we left, Richmond asked the barmaid for a stamp—he got the stamp—I don't know to whom the letter was addressed—I saw the landlord there, and the barmaid and the potman—when we left the house was being closed—I spoke to the potman and bade him "Good night"—Richmond and I then went up Kensington Park Road a little way until we came to Elgin Road, and we went to Cuff's Post Office there—Richmond was not able to post his letter there, and we then went along the Elgin Road and up the Colville Road to the pillar box, which is just opposite the church, where Richmond posted his letter—after doing that we went westwards down the Talbot Road—I saw two constables there, Young and Hannah—they were standing against a cart—I did not notice the cart, but there was a grey horse in it—I should say it was 40 or 50 yards from the Portobello Road, and on the south side of the road—they would be between the comer of Colville Square and Portobello Road—they were in uniform—I knew them, and as I passed I spoke to them—I believe Hannah spoke to me first, and said "How are you getting on how are you off for-work—I said" Don't talk about work; it is time to go to bed"—we were standing against the "cart all four of us then, either Hannah or Young said "Good night," and went in the easterly direction; that is the way we had come—we went towards the Portobello Road, about 6 or 8 yards, and then I stopped because of the abruptness of Hannah; me and him were very good friends when we were in the Police, and he seemed very abrupt that night—when I stopped I said so to Richmond, and then we went on—I did not walk back a step—we went down the Portobello Road and parted company of the corner of Lancaster Road and Portobello Road—Portobello Road is a very long road and runs right through the Talbot Road—it was about 12.15 or 12.20 when we passed the cart, and about 12.30 or 12.40 when I parted company with Richmond—after I left him I went down Lancaster Road as far as Lad broke Grove Road and saw the same two constables who I had seen in Salter's Fields, Ship and Goldsworthy, and also a constable named George—there were four constables; they were taking some horses to. The Green Yard—we had some conversation, some joking—after they had gone I went a little way up Ladbroke Grove Road and down the Cornwall Road, where I spoke to a person I have since recognised as Caroline Charlwood—I did not know her at the time—I went with her up Bolton Road to the coffee stall kept by William Edney at the corner of Norfolk Terrace and Ledbury Road—I had passed the defendant, Sergeant Brannan, right against Cuff's, the Post Office in Portobello Road—Sergeant Varnham was. with him, and Hannah was standing against the shutters within 20 yards of them—I spoke
to Hannah—I said "Good night, Bob"—it was after that that, I went with Charlwood to the coffee stall—I had met her and passed the constables with her—I did not pass through the Talbot Road where the cart was when I was with Charlwood—we went up Westbourne Grove to Bishop's Road Railway Bridge, where we parted—it was then about 1.40 I should think—I went straight home then—before I left Charlwood she told me who she was—she told me she was a niece of Inspector Charlwood of the "S" division—I do not know what name she was going by—I picked her up and spoke to her without knowing her—she was dressed all in black—she was not wearing a black and red plaid shawl—I then went home and found the they were outside the house—I did not see Brannan till Young called him out of my house—he was inside—previous to calling him out Young told me that Sergeant Brannan wanted me—I asked him what for, and he said he would tell me—when Brannan came he told me he should charge me with stealing a horse and cart and he should take me into custody—I said "What horse and cart, I know nothing about a horse and cart"—on our way to the station he asked me how I had spent the night—I told him every particular—he said it was a lie, and I should have to settle for it—I said I had passed by a cart and that Young and Hannah were there—he asked me what woman I had been with—I said a woman who told me that her name was Charlwood—he said it was a lie—I was taken to the police station and charged with stealing a horse and cart—Inspector Hole was on duty—I was put into the reserve room until a woman named Cook was brought there—we were then both charged with stealing a portmanteau—I denied the charge—next morning I was taken to Great Marlborough Street Police Court, and I and Cook were charged before Mr. Knox—I did not know Cook at all, I don't remember seeing her till she was brought in custody to the station that morning, and I did not know then what she was brought for—I did not know her till she was put in the dock—I had not been in her company or seen her at all on that morning or the previous night—I never denied to Brannan that I had been in the Portobello Road—I did not pass by the cart more than the once I have told you of—that was with Richmond only, not with any woman—I did not touch the cart, or. put my foot on the step or wheel, or put my hand on it—Richmond and I. and a woman were not in company together that night—I did not know anything whatever about the cart or its contents, or how it came there, or anything about it—when Brannan was called I cross-examined him—he did not answer me readily, he answered some questions, others he refused—the Magistrate ordered him to answer—I was remanded till next day, and then let go on my own recognizance—there was a further examination on the 26th, and afterwards, on the 28th, I made a full statement, and Cook made her statement—I then called my witnesses, Ship, Goldsworthy, and Richmond—Mr. Knox, in his summing up, said he should be quite willing to grant a summons for perjury if applied for—after my discharge I obtained a summons, and then Mr. Edward Lewis, of Great Marlborough Street, conducted my case.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. I was two years and three months in the-police; I joined in April, 1870, and I was dismissed on 15th July, 1872—I was never charged with irregularities while I was in the police force; I was reported seven times, I believe—the first was a censure for assisting in an improper charge, that was on 11th
August, 1870, at Notting Hill Station, by Superintendent Eccles—on 16th, March, next year, I was fined 5s. and severely reprimanded by the district superintendent—I can't say whether that was for not "patrol ling my beat for two hours from 1 to 3 a.m. on 16th instant—I have got no note of the times—I believe that is the fact, and when spoken to on the subject, admitting I had been sitting down in a cab in Ledbury Road, Notting Hill, for one hour and three-quarters—on 9th September, 1871, I was reported, and cautioned for improperly purchasing a walking stick from police-constable 385, who found it on his beat while on duty—on 9th January, 1872, I was reported for not patrolling my beat for two hours and twenty-five minutes, from 1.45 to 5 a.m. on the 8th instant, and was then found by police-constable Moore in the house of a laundress at 10, Cranbourne Terrace, where a party of washerwomen had assembled to dance, and I was fined three days' pay—in March, 1872, I was reported for not patrolling my beat for an hour and a half in the middle of the night—on June 20th, 1872,1 was reported for being drunk when off duty in uniform, and receiving drink from a number of washerwomen on strike in Norman Row, returning to my lodging, quarrelling with my wife, using obscene language, and disturbing the neighbours, fined 10s., removed from third to fourth class, and then removed to another subdivision—in July, 1872, I was reported for not patrolling my beat from 4.10 till 4.55, and found sitting locked up in an empty house, and I was dismissed the force; that is no reason why I should be prosecuted for felony—I believe I have stated before to-day that Brannan said "It is a lie, you will have to settle for it"—I can't tell you on what occasion—my statement was read over and signed by me; I won't swear whether that was in it or not—I believe I have given evidence on three different occasions against Brannan—I will swear I did say it—I will not swear that it was read over to me—I told Brannan that I had been with a woman—I did not tell him that her name was Charlwood, but that she was a niece of Inspector Charlwood—I stated so before Mr. Knox—I can't say whether it was taken down, I was a prisoner at the time, I don't think there is much taken at those times—I did state that I had seen a niece of Inspector Charlwood—it was never put in my evidence; it was while I was a prisoner—I will swear that I never saw or spoke to the woman Cook that night—I heard Cook give her evidence—I heard her say that she saw me about, a little niter 1 o'clock—I won't be sure of the time—I was pointed out to her by another person—I can't say whether or not I met Richmond by appoint ment; I forget—I did not go to his house for him—I don't remember whether Richmond swore at the Police Court that I met him by appointment—I met him about 10 o'clock—he lives in Blagrove Road—I don't remember whether I stated at the Police Court that I went to the Blagrove Road for him—I went with him to the Blenheim Arms and stayed there till about 12 o'clock—we were not doing anything particular there, more than persons do when they go into a public house—we had no reason for being there—I did not see the cart standing against the wall when I came out of the public-house at 12 o'clock—Richmond and I parted at the corner of Lancaster Road; that is some way from the Blenheim, about 500 yards—Lancaster Road is the next turning but one—from the Blenheim Arms to the place where the cart was I should say was between 200 and 300 yards; you could not see the cart from the Blenheim Arms in the night, you might in the day—I can't say whether there is a lamp at the corner of the Kensington
Park Road; there is one 40 or 50 yards from where the cart was standing—I never saw one much closer, the lamps mast be very thick if they are closer than that—I believe it was 12.20 when we met Hannah and Young—in answer to the question "How is work getting on V I said" Oh, don't say anything about work, it is time for all good people to be in bed"—I did not go to bed that night—I remained away from my home till about 2.45—I did not go into my house from 12.20 till 2.45—I had no motive for wandering about till then; my wife was at home—I met the woman Charlwood—I did not know her as Garry Baxter—I met her first in the Portobello Road between Lancaster Road and the corner near the Golden Cross public-house, not near Cambridge Gardens, north of the Talbot Road—I came out of the Cornwall Road—I went from there to Ladbrooke Grove Road, which runs to the west—I went round that way because I had a mind to see the horses taken to the Green Yard; that was my first intention—I did not go to the Green Yard—I told Charlwood that I had been in the police force—I did not tell her that I was a policeman in plain clothes—I said nothing about being in plain clothes—I told her that I was not in the police then—while I was talking to her, I saw Sergeant Brannan, Varnham, and Hannah pass by—I did not say that I would not have seen them for a gold watch or a pension—she did not ask me why, nor did I reply "Nothing much"—it was about 12.55 or 12.50 when I met Charlwood, something like that—I went with her to the comer of the Bishop's Road Railway Bridge and left her there—I did not go straight home, because I had not a mind; I please myself when I go home; it is not my habit to wander about in the night, other people do it as well as me; there was no reason for it—I went to a coffee stall kept by a man named Edney while I was with Charlwood—4 don't remember pointing out to her two flag stones and telling her that one was Kensington and the other was Paddington—I hardly know where it is, I could not point it out—I will swear that I did not do so; I don't remember doing it—I did not ask her to wait for me while I went and spoke to a policeman—I never mentioned about a policeman that I am aware of—the Blenheim Arms stands in the Kensington Park Road—I was not upwards of half an hoar talking to Richmond about the very spot where the cart was standing' before I parted with him—I know All Saints' Church in the Talbot Road—I never went near the church, no nearer than the pillar-box—I believe the pillar-box is immediately opposite the church; I never stopped there a minute—I don't know whether I talked to Richmond between the pillar-box and the church; we passed down there, we only stopped to push the letter in, we did not stand there at all, not a minute—I was not in the Talbot Road with the woman after I parted from Richmond—I did not know Cook before that night, I had never spoken to her—I did not see a man who Charlwood said was her brother-in-law; she said there was a man there, and walked away; I don't remember seeing him—she did not point him out to me and say he was her brother-in-law—she said she' did not want to see him; she said "There is a man there I don't want to see, come away"—she was against the coffee stall when she said that—I said to the coffee stall keeper "This young woman will come back and drink her coffee;"That was in order to get away and not see the man—she did not tell me he was her brother-in-law till after she went away—I told Mr. Knox at one of the cross-examinations that I had made every inquiry to find Charlwood and could not find her—I did make every inquiry and I could not find her—she did not
tell me her name was Charlwood or else perhaps I might have found her—she told me she was a niece of Inspector Charlwood, those were the words—Edney did not tell me then that she was in the habit of coming to the coffee stall at night; he did tell me so—I did not go to the coffee stall to try and find her—I knew that she was at the Police Court ready to be tendered as evidence—I refuse to answer whether I told Mr. Lewis, my attorney, not to put her in the witness-box; I will not answer that—I was not running a step on this night between 12 and 1 o'clock; I had no occasion to run—Sergeant Brannan never bad anything to do with the reports against me—I was in Ladbrooke Grove Road at 12.45 on this night in company with Ship, Goldsworthy, George, and another constable—George spoke to me and shook hands with me—I was a boot maker at this time, in the employment of Mr. Taylor—my wages varied considerably, from 1l. to 30s.; it was not 18d. a pair for ladies' boots; a deal more than that, I got half-a-crown—I never worked at Mr. Gill's, I know Mr. Gill, I don't know where he lives; he lives now at 9, St. John's Terrace, Latimer Road, Notting Hill—I believe I have made a pair or two of boots for him to oblige him, but I have not worked for him; I have worked for Mr. Taylor since 1872—Mr. Gill did not pay me 18d. per pair for the boots; I made him a pair for 3s., that was what I used to charge him—he may have gone to my house—I never had a lady's ivory fan at my premises; I have a watch and chain, and so has my wife—I did not have a gentleman's riding whip or anything except what belonged to myself—I don't remember asking Edney at the coffee stall who the policeman was on duty on the other side of the street—I don't remember hearing Edney say so at the Police Court—I don't believe I did ask him, I will not swear that I did not, I may have forgotten it—I told Mr. Knox that Inspector Hole said to Brannan "That won't do Brannan"—I believe I stated that on the first examination—Brannan charged me first with stealing a horse and cart, and Inspector Hole produced the book and said "No, Brannan, that won't do, it is a portmanteau that is stolen," and he read a telegram or something from the book.
Re-examined. I have never been charged with dishonesty; I have been recommended to take charge of gentlemen's houses, and I am now living in one—I had a high character when I went into the police—the charges against me while in the police were for irregularity, there was no charge of dishonesty—I was trying the whole of one Sunday to find Charlwood; that was before I took out the summons against Brannan; she was afterwards produced by the police when 'Brannan was under charge—Mr. Lewis spoke to me about her—I had a very substantial reason for not calling her, she had been taken to Mr. Barnard's office (Brannan's solicitor) and made a statement and signed it; that was my reason—I don't remember seeing Cook at all that night.
GEORGE RICHMOITO . I am a printer living at 1, Blagrove Road, Notting Hill—I am in the employment of Messrs. Dixon and Roberts, of Westbourne Terrace—I am a friend of the witness Parrock—I have known him from boyhood—I was out with him on the 18th February—I met him about 10.15 in Clarendon Road—we went through Blenheim Crescent so the Blenheim Arms"—we stopped there till the house closed; 12 o'clock—I had a letter to post for my father and I asked the barmaid whether she would supply me with a stamp—she gave me one and I put it on the letter—we left the public-house and went down to Cuffs post office and from there to the pillar box, near All Saints' Church and into Talbot Road
and Portobello Road—we saw two policemen there, Hannah and Young—I knew them—they were standing by the side of a cart—Parrock said "Have you got a horse and cart to go round your beat in"—Hannah said "No, not exactly that," or some such words, and then we went on—Parrock walked down the road by the side of me and we parted in the Lancaster Road about 12.30—that was about ten minutes after we had passed the cart—we did not pass the cart more than once that night—Parrock did not touch the cart at all—there was-no woman with us while we were together—Parrock knew both the constables—he said "I wonder what is the matter with Bob to night"—that was after we had passed the cart—I knew that he meant Hannah when he said Bob—I was a witness for Parrock when he was charged with stealing the portmanteau.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The meeting that night was by appointment which was made on the Sunday previous—I told him I should meet him near about the Clarendon Road about 10 o'clock—it was not for the purpose of drinking at the Blenheim Arms until the house closed—I had the letter to post for my father—I left my own house about 7 o'clock, but I had not got the letter then, my father gave it me about 9.30 at Earl's Court—Parrock was not with me then—I got a postage stamp at the Blenheim Arms—there is a pillar letter box within 41 yards of my own house at the corner of Blagrove Road—I did not think of that one—I went to one that I knew—I went to Cuff's—we left the Blenheim Arms exactly at 12 o'clock—there was no other letter to be posted besides mine—I went to Cuff's because I wanted to post the letter at the post office; that was the nearest post office I could get to—when I found Cuffs shop closed I asked Parrock share the nearest pillar box was and he told me—I did not stand still with near All Saints' Church; only a moment when we put the letter in—I did not see the cart at that time—I did not hear the cart drive up while we were at the Blenheim Arms—I don't remember seeing anyone come in about that time—no one came into the same compartment while we were there—I was not present at the Police Court on the first occasion when Parrock was charged—I was present afterwards before Mr. Knox when Parrock was under charge—I think I told the Magistrate about the expression made by Parrock "Have you got a cart to ride round your beat"—I think I said it, but I won't swear that I have mentioned it before to-day—after Parrock and I left the pillar box we turned to the left down the Portobello Road—we passed a public-house at the corner of Talbot Road, then down the Portobello Road, and I parted with Parrock at the corner of Lancaster Road—I did not go with him at all into the Cornwall Road—I was in the Kensington Park Road with him—I lost sight of him there and saw no more of him—I did not notice a woman following us at any time—I never saw Cook—I know her now—I did not know her till this case was on at the Police Court—I did not talk to any woman at all that night—I. knew Charlwood—I did not know her as Carry Baxter—she was known to me as Charlwood—she was employed by me four or five years back—I don't know what her age was then; she was nurse girl—when this charge was against Brannan at the Police Court I did not swear I had never seen Charlwood before—I swore I had never seen Carry Baxter—I did not know that Charles wood was Carry Baxter at that time—I saw Parrock between the 18th and 28th February; not many times—I believe he told me that the woman he had been spending many hours with was a niece of Inspector Charlwood—I said at once a woman named Charlwood had been employed by me—I did
not go to see Charlwood between the 18th and 28th February—I did not go anywhere to find her after the summons was taken out against Bran man for perjury—I saw her at the Police Court—I told Parrock she was the person I had employed before—I can't tell you the date I saw her at the Police Court first; I think it was the examination before the last that I saw her there—I swore then, when Charlwood was present, I did not know Carry Baxter—I did not know Mary Cook until I came to this Court—I did not tell Mr. Knox that I was speaking of Carry Baxter only, but that I knew Charlwood perfectly well; Mr. Knox never asked me the question.
Re-examined. I did not know Charlwood by the name of Carry Baxter at all—before the Magistrate I was asked about Carry Baxter by name, and I said I did not know her—I did not know that it was referring to Charlwood when the question was put to me—when I saw her before the Magistrate-, I knew her as the person who had done work for me formerly—I did not see anything of Charlwood while I was with Parrock on that night—the letter I had to post was given to me by my father at Earl's Court, and I got the stamp at the. Blenheim Arms—the letter was addressed to my aunt, Miss Elizabeth Blithe, my father's sister.
By The Court. The Blenham Arms is about 500 or 600 yards from my house—Blagrove Road leads out of the Portobello Road beyond the railway bridge.
MARY ANN COOK . I lived at 16, Bosworth Road, Upper Westbourne Park in February last—remember being taken into custody on the 19th of February—I had been out the previous night in company with Rose Parker—she is an unfortunate girl and I am as well—we had been in the Ladbroke Grove Road the whole of the night, from 8.30 till 12.30, walking about there—I left Rose Parker about 1.30 in the morning as near as I can judge—I left her and went home by myself—I had not been in the company of Parrock that night at all—I did not know him by sight and I did not speak to him at. all—I did not know him the following morning when I saw him in custody—I had never seen him in my life before to my recollection—I had seen a cart in the Portobello Road, near the Cornwall public-house—there were some policemen in it when I saw it and they were driving along—I had not seen it before—I think it was about 12.40 to the best of my recollection—I went home and went to bed I think it was about 4.30 or from that to 5 o'clock when the police came to my house—Sergeant Brannan and Hannah and Young came into my room—they knocked at my door and I asked what they wanted—they said "Open the door," and they came in my room and Sergeant Brannan told me I was implicated in the robbery of a portmanteau, stolen from the top of a cab—I said I did not know anything about it—they told me I. must come with them—I told them to leave the room while I dressed myself and they said they were all married men, it did not matter—they remained in the room—I dressed myself—I was taken outside and put in the cart—the cart broke down as I got in it and I walked to the station "with the policeman—I was then put with Parrock and charged with stealing the portmanteau—on the following day I was taken before the Magistrate at Marlborough Street and ultimately on the 18th I was discharged—I was in the Bolton Road when I was walking about on the previous night—I did not recognise Parrock at all at the police-station or before the Magistrate—I never saw the man before to my knowledge—I knew nothing whatever about the cart or the portmanteau, and had nothing at all to do with it—I had a black and red shawl on that night—I don't know where Rose. Parker is now, I think she was taken into custody last Saturday night.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Whilst I was with Parker, I heard her call out "All right No. 111"—that was the old number of Parrock when he was in the police force—she called out that to a man in the Bolton Road, but I could not swear that it was Parrock—Rose Parker told me afterwards it was him, and she told me it was the old number he bore in the force—she told me that at the same time—when the police came they asked me what I had done with the young man I had been walking with—I don't remember who asked that question—I could not swear it was Hannah—Hannah appears to have known where I was living—I had not seen Hannah often before to my knowledge, nor yet Sergeant Brannan—I swear that Hannah and Young remained in the room as well as Brannan—Brannan stood with his back to me whilst I was dressing; he was searching my chest of drawers—I am quite sure Young and Hannah were in the room—I was convicted last week for being drunk, but I was no more drunk than I am now; it was nothing but spite—I was charged with stealing flowers, but I bought them.
Re-examined. When Rose Parker spoke to Parrock, and said "All right 111," a young woman was with him—it was about 1 o'clock or 12.50—know now who the woman was, but I did not then; it was a young woman they call Carry Baxter—I never told Brannan, or said in his presence, that I was with Parrock on the night of the 18th, or the morning of the 19th—I never admitted it.
CAROLINE CHARLWOOD . I live at 19, Beaumont Cottages, Linton Place—in February last I lived at 1, Bolton Mews, Portobello Road—I was out on the night of Ash Wednesday and saw a man, whom I now know as Parrock, about 12.55,. between Cuff's and Patch's the baker's—Parrock spoke to mo and we walked across the road together—I saw three policemen standing at the corner near the Post-office—I don't know who they were—I can't say that the defendant was one of them—Parrock and I walked up Bolton Road, and went to Edney's coffee stall and had a cup of coffee—that is at the corner of Ledbury Road—I saw my brother-in-law there—I turned my back and said to Parrock "There is my brother-in-law, I don't wish him to see me out so late, I will leave the coffee;"—Parrock said to the coffee stall man "Leave the coffee till this lady comes back," and we then left—we came back and drank the coffee and walked up towards Bishop's Road Bridge—I should say we were together about three quarters of an hour altogether—I left Parrook about 1.45 at Bishop's Road Bridge—when I was with him he said he had been a policeman, and when we passed Westbourne Terrace he pointed to a mark on the pavement and said he must not pass that stone because he might be reported, and he put his coat collar up—there was a policeman went down a turning before we went down, and Parrock said he went down to sleep—we then walked over the stone and walked to the Bishop's Road Bridge, and during that time he said he was a policeman and was on duty till 4 o'clock in the morning—he told me he was a policeman in private when I was with him—I did not tell him who I was before I left him—I was passing by the name, of Charlwood at that time—I never heard that I was known as Carry Baxter—I did not tell him what my name was or who I was—I am a niece of Inspector Charlwood—I did not talk about him that night—I had a black dress on that night trimmed with crape, a black shawl, and a black hat with a long white feather—I did not see anything of the cart that night—I did not go into the Talbot Road at all—on Monday, 27th April, my brother gave me a card—I was going to my sister's, but my brother came out and said "Carry
here is a card for you"—it was the card of Mr. Brannan's solicitor—I can't tell you his name—I saw Sergeant Brannan at his house the same day I bad the card—the card was left with me and I did not think proper to go there, and I went to his house, as he was in the case—I saw his wife, and waited till he came in—I saw him then—he gave me a great deal of gin, and it is spirits I can't drink, and then we went by the Underground Rail way to Moorgate Street and to his solicitor—I was under the influence of drink—he caught hold of my arm at Moorgate Street, and asked his wife to go on a little further, and he said to me "Will you do me a favour?"—I said "What is that?"—he said "Will you swear you: had a plaid shawl, a black dress, and a black bonnet, and passed the cart with Parrock and George Richmond, and saw Parrock get up on the wheel of the cart and touch the portmanteau, and get down and walk as far as the corner with you, and speak to two strange men, and ask them whether they would get up and-drive, as they were well known and might be suspected?"—that is that Parrock was well known—I asked Brannan if he thought I was a fool, and I said "I was not brought down here to false swear with any man; where I am going I shall say no more than I know, and that is all; I shall say the truth"—he took me to his solicitor's doorway, took my rail way ticket-away, and left me there—the solicitor sent for him to see if he was at the public-houses near, bat he was nowhere to be found—he had got my railway ticket—the solicitor sent his clerk with me to the railway station, and I went home.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. It was on Ash Wednesday night that I first spoke to Parrock—I met him close to Cuff's Post Office about 22.50 or 12.55—I had been to the Metropolitan Music Hall—I walked from there to the Edgware Road Station and got out at Notting Hill—I stood talking to a young friend of mine there and got to Cuff's Post Office about 12.50 or 12.55—I was only with Parrock three quarters of an hour—I was after wards summoned as a witness to the Police Court—I was stopped with a paper in Portabella Road—I was at the Police Court when Brannan was committed for trial; that was on the 9th of April—I had not seen Mr. Barnard the Solicitor, or Brannan, or any one connected with the case at that time—I was only at Marlborough Street Police Court on one occasion, and on that occasion Mr. Lewis declined to all me as a witness against Brannan—I had come along Blenheim Crescent into the Portobello Road when Parrock came up and said "Where are you going to?"—I said "I am hurrying home, don't you think it is high time?"and then we went across by Patch's the baker's, and it was there I saw the three constables standing at the corner—Parrock came closer to me and said "I would not have them see me for a gold watch or a pension"—I said "Why not?"and he said "Nothing much"—I went with him up the Bolton Road to the corner of the Ledbury Road, and there I said I would have a cup of coffee, and he ordered two cups and paid for them, and before I could drink it my brother-in-law came up, and not wishing that he should see me out so late at night, I turned my back and walked away, and Parrock told the coffee stall man to put the cup on one side till-1 came back, and we walked to the arch and watched for my brother-in-law to go away, and we then returned and finished the coffee; we then left and went to the corner of West bourne Grove, where there is a letter pillar box, and it was there that we had the conversation about his being a policeman on duty, and he pointed to a place there, where he said the policemen were in the habit, of
going down for a couple of hours to sleep in the cab or cabs, and he asked me to wait for him while he went to speak to a policeman whom he said had gone down the mews—I saw a policeman go by, but he walked straight up, he did not go down the mews—Parrock did not speak to any policeman although he said he was going to—I said that I would not wait—he asked me to go to a room with him, and I said no, I would go home—he said he was late the evening before and could not get to the station for his money, so that he must go there then, and could not stop—he said he would send me some money to the post office; that was when he was soliciting me to go to a room—I said "If you have a wife you had better go home to her"—he said he was a single man—it was the 27th April when Brannan took me by the railway to Mr. Barnard's office—I was not quite sober when I got there—Brannan was not there—I told Mr. Barnard I was not going to false swear for any one, and he said "The best thing you can do is to speak the truth, and nothing but the truth"—I made a statement to him, and put my name to it—he read it over to me before I signed it, and I said it was quite right—Mr. Barnard, I believe, told me I should have to attend the Sessions—I had a letter afterwards and went to Mr. Wontner's office—Parrock and Richmond took me there; that was after I had been brought here as a witness by Mr. Barnard, the solicitor, to whom I made that statement—when I went to Mr. Wontner's there was nobody in the room but Mr. Wontner's clerk when I made my statement—they called me and I went in the room by myself—Parrock and, Richmond went in before I went in—I have had half-a-crown each time I have been to Mr. Wontner's office—I have not had any other allowance since I have been a witness for the prosecution—I think I have had five or six half-crowns—it was not the first time that I was at Mr. Wontner's that I said anything about gin or being under the influence of liquor—I told Mr. Barnard, and I had told Richmond before I got to Mr. Wontner's—I said I was not right, I was not square—I don't believe I said I did not recollect what passed at Mr. Barnard's—the gin was given to me at Mr. Brannan's house—I went there at 11 o'clock or a little after and we came out at 3 o'clock; I was there four hours—we were not drinking all the time, we did stop a little while I believe—Mr. Brannan and his wife were there, and the servant girl who had got Mrs. Brannan's baby—I had some tea; I drank half my tea, and my cup was filled up with gin by Mr. Brannan—I had no more gin after I left Brannan's, they wanted me to have some, and I had a bottle of lemonade, that was going to the station—I was not so sober at 3 o'clock as I was at Mr. Barnard's at 4 or 5 o'clock—after I had been to Mr. Wonter's I saw Parrock and Richmond at Notting Hill; they got out at the same same station—I was in their company—I have not been in their company since—I have never seen Parrock until to day, only the sessions' days—I did not tell Mr. Wontner that what I was asked to swear falsely was that I had seen Parrock put the portmanteau into the cart—I said that I was asked to take that Parrock got up on the wheel and touched the portmanteau—I am quite sure it was not "Look at the portmanteau"—I have known R Richmond about three or four years—I was nursemaid to his children while his wife was ill in bed—that was about three' years ago—I am 18 now—I did not hear Richmond swear at Police Court that he had never known Carry Baxter—Edney told me I was known as Carry Baxter, and I said I did not know of such a name; I never heard it before—he stopped
me in the Portobello Road, and said he had been offered 10s. to find me—I did not ask Mr. Barnard whether the evidence I was expected to give would do any damage to Richmond, or say that if it would I would not give evidence, as I had lived in his service—I said I had been in his service—I did not express a hope that what I had to say would not injure Richmond in any way—I did not see Parrock running while I was with him at all—I did not see the two officers Goldsworthy or Ship at all.
Re-examined. I did not see any constables taking horses to the Green Yard—Parrock and Richmond went down to Mr. Wontner's and they said I should be wanted as well, and a piece of paper was given to me by Inspector Hole to go—I met Mr. Richmond and he went down with me—I went into the room and my statement was taken down—the statement produced here which I signed at Mr. Barnard's office was read over. to me—I understood that Parrock was a constable in plain clothes, and when he put his coat collar up I supposed it to be so that they should not take much notice of his face. (Mr. Besley called for the statement given, by the witness to Mr. Wontner. MR. POLAND declined to produce it, but the state merit made by her to Mr. Barnard was ready which in substance was contained in her cross-examination.)
MR. BESLEY then submitted that the statement made by the witness to Mr. Wontner should-also be read, he having been furnished by the prosecution with a copy of it, upon which he had founded his cross-examination. MR. POLAND objected, upon the general principle, that it was a communication between the witness and the attorney. THE COMMON SERGEANT was of opinion that as the witness had had the document read over to her, and acknowledged its accuracy, it was admissible for the purpose of contradiction; it then became a question whether, in the discretion of the Court, it should be used for that purpose; and, in his opinion, under the circumstances of this case, he should exercise that discretion by calling for its production.
ST. JOHN WONTNER . I am a solicitor—I am conducting this case as agent for the Solicitor of the Treasury—I saw the witness Charlwood at my office, I think it was in the May Session, the first Session that the case was put into my hand—I have a clerk who writes shorthand—I asked Charlwood to make her statement, she did so, and it was taken, down in shorthand—I put questions to her to clear, up matters which I thought desirable—her statement was then read over to her from the shorthand notes; it was afterwards reduced into writing, and a copy of it was given to—the solicitor for the defence, so that he might know the substance of the evidence she was to give, as she had not been examined before the magistrate—I' saw her in the course of last week—I had this copy of the notes of further evidence given to the prisoner's solicitor, I read it over to her to know whether she assented to it as being accurate; she made one. or two. slight alterations, and then she put her mark to it.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. This prosecution was not instituted originally by the Treasury, but after the case was committed for trial, Parrock not having the means to carry it on—I am not aware that Mr. Knox also applied to have the assistance of the Treasury—I had nothing whatever to do with the proceedings at the Police Court, nor had the Trea sury—I only know from the depositions that the committal took place early in April—at the first Session after the committal no bill was preferred, an application was made, on my instructions, to allow a Session to pass that I might prepare the indictment, as I only received instructions on the Tuesday
in the Session, I had not even a copy of the depositions—in the first indict ment that was prepared there was a mistake, a.m. being put instead of p.m.—a second indictment was afterwards preferred, containing two counts instead of one, but on exactly the same facts, and containing the same allegations.
Re-examined. Parrock only applied to the Treasury immediately before the May Session—I had nothing to do with the case previous to that—I got up the case in the ordinary way, so as to place the facts before the jury. (The statement of Charlwood was then put in and read, the substance of it was contained in her examination-in-chief.)
ALFRED YOUNG (Policeman X 215). On the night of Ash Wednesday, 18th February, I went on duty at 10 o'clock—my beat was from the Elgin Road to the Cornwall Road and Talbot Road—about 12.20 I was in the Talbot Road and saw a cart standing there near the corner of Colville Square, between the corner of the square and Portobello Road—I did not see any one with it or near it—I walked up to it, just glanced inside and crossed over—I did not notice anything particular—I was joined by acting Sergeant Hannah—I spoke to him about the cart and called his attention to it—we crossed over the way to the cart, and Parrock and Richmond came along—we had then just got to the cart—they came from the direction of Westbourne Park, from the eastward, near the pillar post—Parrock said to Hannah "How are you Bob?" I did not catch Hannah's reply—I asked Parrock how he was off for work—he said "Work, what about work this time of night, bed is the best place"—we then bade them good night, and walked towards Colville Square—Parrock and Richmond appeared to be going in the direction of Notting Hill, that is towards Portobello Road—I had seen them coming along the Talbot Road 50 or 60 yards before they came up to the cart where I was standing—Hannah and I were both in uniform—I knew Parrock well; I did not know Richmond—there was no woman with them or following them—after they had passed on we examined the cart, and found in it a portmanteau covered with a rug—I found nothing else—Hannah then directed me to conceal myself in an area on the opposite side of the road—the cart was on the Colville Square 'side of the way—Hannah went away—I concealed myself in the area as directed, I should say about 13 to 16 yards from the cart—I could see the cart perfectly from there—I continued to watch the cart—after I had been there from ten to fifteen minutes, as near as I can recollect, I saw Sergeant Brannan come up, he was in uniform—he went towards the cart, and seeing the police were there I whistled and he came across to me—I said to him "You see the cart"—he said "Yes, yes, there are three men and a woman wanted for it, go up Portobello Road and detain Parrock and a female, I will bring the cart along"—I then came out of the area and went in pursuit of them; I went right up Portobello Road and looked about, I was not able to find them—I had left Brannan at the area, near the cart—after searching about for some time I came back into the Portobello Road and saw Sergeant Brannan and Sergeant Varnham—I had been away I should think three-quarters of an hour, or it might have been an hour—I and Brannan got into the cart, it was then in the Portobello Road, and we drove to Parrock's house—as near as I can remember it must have been about 12.35 when Brannan first came up—Parrock did not touch the cart at all, nor did he walk backwards and forwards in front of the cart; he simply did what I have described—there is no place of concealment
in the Talbot Road except the areas, unless you go down a turning, but then you could not gee the cart—I should say the doorways there would not afford places of concealment—I did not see anything whatever of Cook or Charlwood—when we arrived at Parrock's house, which I think was a little after 2 o'clock, we found that he had not come home—Brannan and I went inside, and he searched the lower part of the house—Parrock came home about 3.30—I spoke to him, Brannan was not present, he was inside—I took hold of Parrock and told him that Sergeant Brannan wanted to see him, with that the sergeant came out of the gateway and, took hold of him and said "What have you been doing with that horse and cart," and I think "a portmanteau," but that I won't be quite positive of—Parrock said "What cart, I know nothing about it"—I then took him to the station—I was not present when Cook was taken into custody, I was outside the house minding the cart; she was taken from her own house—we took Parrock to the station first and then we went to Cook's—Brannan, Varnham; and Hannah, I think, went and apprehended her, I was outside minding the cart—I did not hear anything that passed between Cook and Brannan—she was afterwards brought to the station-pearlier in the morning, about 6 o'clock I saw Brannan in the passage at the police-station—Hannah and Varnham were there—I had found out at that time that the portmanteau belonged to Sir George Jenkinson—Brannan said to me "Look here Young, this is your case, let me have the handling of it, this portmanteau belongs to a big man, a Member of Parliament, if you don't let me have the management of it an inspector will poke his nose into it and do you out of it"—I said "You appear to know all about it"—he said "Yes, yes, leave it to me," or some words to that effect, I can't exactly remember the last words; that was all that passed then—afterwards at the Police Court, before Parrock and Cook were taken before Mr. Knox I again had some conversation with Brannan in the yard attached to the Police Court; I went up to him and said "Sergeant Brannan had I not better get in the witness-box first, you can then bring in what you know about the woman Cook"—he said "Oh, be b——d, you leave it to me, I will mix it up for the sod," both Hannah and Varnham were there—Brannan was the first witness called, then Varnham, and then me—on the day that Partook and Cook were discharged, 28th February, I was outside an omnibus with Brannan, we were going from the Court to Notting Hill—Brannan said to me "This is a bad job, will you stick to me, and will you lean to counsel if questions should be put to you, that is supposing I get one"—I said "I can't alter my deposition"—he said "I know that, do the best you can for me"—I made no further reply then—on one of the occasions when Brannan was before the Magistrate charged with perjury I had some conversation with him at the back of the Court; it was Hannah who was talking to him, I did not hear the whole conversation, it was something about the small fry should be got into it and that Brannan should get out of it, that was the rumor, and Hannah asked him if it was true—Brannan denied it, he said "God forbid"—I think I first heard that the Jemmy and knife had been found in the cart on the second hearing—I had not searched the cart sufficiently to see whether there was a jemmy and knife there, they might have been under the straw.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I don't think I stated in the first examination against Parrock that I saw the jemmy—Varnham carried the jemmy and knife; I remember stating "I was in Court when Brannan gave
evidence; I believe Varnham had the jemmy on the first occasion; I saw it"—I said just now that I thought it was on the second occasion I saw it; I have been ill for a long time—I have been reported for willful misconduct on my beat, for neglect of duty, and being absent from my beat; also for being found asleep in an unfinished building when on duty, and on the same occasion for being Under the influence of liquor—I have been reported six times for what they term misconduct—I was fined 2s. 6d. for not being on my beat for an hour and twenty minutes—I was fined for being found in a fish shop, and afterwards going to a public-house and drinking when on duty—I was reported for drinking a cup of coffee in the middle of the night, not for being absent from duty in company with a man; that was not at Edney's coffee stall—I erased a name from a police book; I think it should be explained how that did occur; a constable signed in the wrong place on receiving his armlet, and I scratched it out; the inspector asked me next day if I knew anything about it, I said I did it thinking there was no harm in it, and I was reported for that—on 29th January I was drinking outside a public-house when on duty—I have been seven years in the police next January; I still remain a constable—I have never been reduced from one rank to another—on the first examination of Parrock and Cook, Brannan was the first witness, and then Varnham—I did not go in before Varnham because I was not called—Varnham is a sergeant; it is not usual for a sergeant to be called first if his name is on the charge sheet; it all depends who is called by the magistrate—I believe I stated pretty nearly what I have to-day—I have not said to-day that Parrock never passed the cart twice, what I said was that they made a move to walk away, and when we returned we saw them standing just about the same spot; I had only been gone about a quarter of a minute; they passed the cart once, they must have done, and then retraced perhaps a couple of steps—I say that they did pass twice; I swear that—after we left them we walked towards Colville Square; we returned in about a quarter of a minute, and saw they had moved further towards the cart; I can't tell how many paces we had taken; we turned and walked back again and found Parrock and Richmond just about the same place, they had moved a little nearer if anything—I saw them pass the cart twice, they passed it once, and retraced their steps two paces and then went away again; they did not absolutely pass it, but I call it passing if they came up against it; I should say they were up to the wheel—up to that time I had not seen Brannan—it is true that when we got up to them they walked away and disappeared—I think I said that Brannan moved the cart into the Portobello Road and left a constable in charge of it—I was told to watch the cart; I did so until Brannan came, and he directed me to follow Parrock and a female, which I did; the cart was then in the same spot; Brannan said he would bring it along—I said at the Police Court that he had moved it into Portobello Road and left a constable in charge of it; that was something I heard, and it was strengthened by what Brannan said to me when riding towards Parrock's house, that he wished he had not moved the cart, so I naturally concluded that it was so—I may have said on the first examination that Brannan said to Parrock that he should take him for stealing a portmanteau, and I think a horse and cart; I think what I did say was for stealing a horse and cart, and I think a portmanteau, but I may have reversed it—in my cross-examination by Parrock on 19th February I said "i saw you pass the cart twice, you passed it before Brannan came up;"That is true; I might have
said "I met you against the cart about 12.30 or 12.35;" it was nearer 12.30 than 12.35 I think; at that time I did not believe that Parrock was concerned in receiving the property, or helping the man who had driven the cart up; I did not believe a word of it, I never believed from the first that there was a feather's weight of evidence against them in my opinion—I gave the evidence to the solicitor as to what Brannan said "Look here Young, this is your case, let me have the handling of it;"That conversation took place in the passage of the Police Station, Notting Hill, about 6 o'clock in the morning—Hannah and Varnham were present and heard it—I did not report that conversation to the superintendent or inspector—I did not say a word about it when I was examined against Parrock and Cook, or at the several examinations against Brannan—I was called twice I think—I think I mentioned it to Mr. Wontner about three Sessions ago; I believe it was in August; I believe it was read over to me, and I put my mark to it—I don't think it was taken down in short hand—Varnham was not present at the time I made the statement; not inside—Hannah was inside and Inspector Hole—I believe it was read over to me—I don't think I made any alteration in it—it was at the same time that I mentioned the conversation about getting first into the witness-box—I was not anxious at that time to get Parrock and Cook committed for trial, because my impression from the first was that Brannan had been the cause—the first conversation was in the passage, a little after 6 o'clock, and the second one at the yard of the Police Court, just before the case came on, about 11 o'clock—I said nothing about it till I went to Mr. Wontner—the conversation outside the bus was on the dismissal of the charge against Parrock and Cook—Hannah was present then, he was present at all the three conversations, and at Mr. Wontner's when I gave the details—after the charge of perjury was made we met Mr. Knox at the spot—Mr. Knox did not advise me to resign, if he did it was not in my hearing—I do not suffer in my sight, I am not short-sighted—they do not say so at the hospital, frat I know of, or that my sight is unequal; the sight of my eye is not defective, the. left may be a trifle defective, but nothing to speak of—I was not 39 yards off the cart when I was in the area; I should say at the utmost it was 17 or 18—there was a lamp alight very nearly opposite, some few yards away—I was not so far from the cart as the Blenheim Arms, I was nearly opposite the cart—a person might see it 80 yards off, but I should question it very much—Mr. Knox said at the Police Court that I had no more right to be in the force than Parrock had, and that I ought to resign—what you asked me just now was whether Mr. Knox did not tell me to resign, and I say no, he did not advise me to resign—I can't say the exact words Mr. Knox used, I think he said "One was reported and the other discharged, and I can't see why the other was not discharged," or words to that effect—there was no light between me and the cart, the light was to the right, close to the kerb, on the opposite side of the way to the cart—part of the pavement at the side of the cart might be in shadow, I did not notice shadows, I looked after the cart—I was down the area—the houses there have portico's—I don't think anybody could call themselves concealed there except in the area, because anybody coming by could see them—I did not see the horse driven up—I believe Hannah tied the reins to the wheel—I did not see the man get out of the cart and go into the public-house; I did not see anything about the cart's arrival—my duty was in Talbot-road—I did not see the charge-sheet—I don't remember
signing it (looking at it;) no, I did not—there is a urinal close to the Colville Hotel, but I believe that is generally locked at night; if it was not locked it would be a place of concealment, but not a very nice one, I should think—while I was down the area I did not see three or four persons pass along, stop and strike a light and endeavour to read the name on the cart—that did not happen, not that I saw—the area is about 5 ft. 6 in. deep—I was at the bottom and peered up above the level of the street—I was there about 10 or 15 minutes—the shops do not project, the areas are in front of the shops, I swear that, I should think they project 12 or 13 inches—the area I was in was not in front of a shop, or attached to a "shop, it was next but one to a shop, it was the area of a private house, there was a private house next and then a shop—that shop was not in front of the area where I was—I was not suffering particularly from illness on 19th February, I have been suffering for years—I recollect everything that occurred—I sent in a letter of resignation—I made a charge against Inspector Hole.
Re-examined. I have been reported six times in seven years; the first report was in 1868—notwithstanding those reports I have been kept in the force—I know that Parrock was discharged for irregularities, the observation made by Mr. Knox was in his summing up—I could see the cart perfectly well from where I was in the area—the Magistrate and the Superintendent came and visited the spot—I was there to watch and see if any persons came up and dealt with the cart, and if they had I should have pounced out and seized them—I am not in the hospital for my eyes; but for something else, I was able to see the cart perfectly well—Brannan never suggested that he had concealed himself in the urinal—I was called as a witness against Parrock and Cook; I simply stated what I had seen—Mr. Wontner afterwards took down my full statement about those conversations.
ROBERT HANNAH . I am now in the service of the Great Western Railway Company—I was formerly in the Metropolitan Police Force—resigned; my time expired on the 30th June—I left of my own accord—I had been in the Force four years and a month—on the night of the 18th February I was acting sergeant—I left the Notting Hill Station to visit the men about 9.45, after I had posted them—I went to the Talbot Road, and got there about 12.15 on the morning of the 19th—I was in uniform—I saw Young,. No. 215, standing near the Colville Hotel, near the Portobello Road, and he called my attention to a horse and cart there—we waited a minute or two and crossed from the Colville Hotel to the horse and cart—Parrock and Richmond came down from the direction of Westbourne Park—I noticed them a few yards before they got up to us—they stood a second, Parrock said "Halloa 2? show are you going on?"or "Good night"—I forget the expression but something to that effect—I answered him in an offhand way—we left them and walked in the same direction, they had come, towards Westbourne Park; they made a stand at the corner of the square; I looked round and I saw Parrock going towards the cart—I am not positive whether Richmond turned or not—I suppose that Parrock was up as far as the horse; we stood there and they walked away towards Portobello Road—I saw no more of them then—we went back and thoroughly examined the cart, and found the portmanteau—Parrock did not touch the cart at all while he was there—he did not put his foot on the wheel or step or touch it in any way, or walk backwards and forwards
there was no woman with Parrock and Richmond—I saw no woman whatever about there—I knew Parrock; I had done duty with him—I knew he had been discharged from the Force—I had lodged in the same house with him. I saw the portmanteau in the cart partially covered with a rug—I did not get into the cart—I said to Young "I don't exactly understand this, I believe there is something wrong, you go in that area opposite," pointing to one of the private areas there—we secured the wheel first "of all by means of the reins—Young went down one of the areas—I think it was the first; that would be, I should say, 32 yards from the cart, on the opposite side of the road—I should say it was about 12.25 when I left him there—I went away and remained in Portobello Road between Cornwall Road and Elgin Road, near the post-office—I saw Parrock there with a woman; they passed me—I was standing on the kerb next door to the post-office—I took the woman to be the woman Cook who was charged—they went in the direction of Archer Street—I saw Brannan about seven or ten minutes after Parrock and the woman had passed—I had left there and gone down the Portobello Road again, and when I came back I saw Brannan near the post-office—I first reported "All right sergeant," and then I asked him whether he had received any information—he said "Why?" I then reported the circumstance of the cart and posting Young—he said "All right, I know all about it, you go after Parrock and the woman and stop them"—I told him I had' seen Parrock and another man pass the cart—I detailed the whole of it—all I said about the woman was that I had seen Parrock and the woman pass—I might have said I believed it to be Cook, or that it was Cook—after I had reported the whole of it to him he told, me to go after Parrock and the woman—I told Brannan that Parrook had merely turned towards the cart, that is all I said—I went after Parrock and the woman, but I was not able to find them, and I returned to Portobello Road in about, fifteen or twenty minutes—it was about 12.50 as near as I can guess when I first saw Braanan—when I came back I saw Brannan near the cart in Porto bellow Road, and I told him I could not find them—he said "Perhaps they are in the Mews in Buckingham Terrace," and I went back again—I saw Sergeant Varnham and asked him if he had seen them, he said he had in Portobello Road—I told him Sergeant Brannan wanted them, and we went together—we returned and I met Young in Archer Street, and we walked own together—I was not present when Parrock was taken in custody; I was when Cook was taken—she said, "I know nothing whatever about it, you must have made a mistake in the party"—she said that once or twice—Brannan was there—I first heard of the jemmy and knife about 9.30 in the morning—I saw the jemmy on the reserve room table and said "Halloa, what is that," and then I heard it had been found in the cart—I was present at the police-station about 6 o'clock in the morning when Brannan had some conversation with Young—we were in the passage—I think there was Young, Varnham and myself—Brannan came and said "Look here Young, this is a good job, belonging to a big man or a great man, an M.P., you had better let me have the handling of this, otherwise we shall have the Inspector shoving his nose into it," Young said. "Very well you can have it as you appear to know so much about it"—I won't be positive of the expression, but it was something to that effect—in the yard at the Police Court, I heard Young say to Brannan, "I think I had better get in the box first sergeant, had not I?"Brannan said "No I will get in the box"—that was before there was any conversation, and shortly Braanan
came back and said "I am going in to the box first of all"—we had a little talk over it, and we all thought it was Young's place to get in the box first of all, and Brannan fired up and said, "Let it alone to me, I will mix it up for myself"—he went and got in the box first—after the charge was dismissed, I went away on an omnibus with Young and Brannan—Brannan sat in the middle I think—I heard a conversation he had with Young on that occasion—I think Young told him first of all that Parrock had taken out a summons against him for perjury—Brannan said "I don't care much if they have, but if they do, and questions are put by counsel will you lean to it," or "Will you lean to me"—I told him it was no use to talk like that we had given our evidence which was correct—he said "I don't mean that, but if questions are put to you, will you lean to counsel"—I told him we we would not—I thought that the woman I saw with Parrock was Cook—I could not say that I ever noticed Charlwood before—I should not like to swear that Cook is the woman now, although I firmly believed at the time she was.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. I knew the woman Cook before, but not to say well—I said at the Police Court "I swear positively that Cook was a woman I had seen about as a prostitute. I believe her name was Cook. I was perfectly familiar with her appearance"—I gave evidence to that effect—before she was discharged I was perfectly certain that she was the woman—I was examined against Sergeant Brannan at the Police Court—I believe it was three times in all—I did not mention on either of those three occasions a single word in examination in chief or cross-examination about the conversation which I have stated to-day—I don't-remember when I mentioned that conversation to Mr. Wontner—I have not the date with me—it was the second day I went to Mr. Wontner's office, 3, Cloak Lane—I think it was later than April; it was 8th May—Young was with me—he heard the statement I made to Mr. Wontner, and I heard him make his statement—Young made his first, and then I made mine—they were written down at the time—I had been the day before to Mr. Wontner's, but I had not made any statement—Young spoke to me first about making that statement to Mr. Wontner a week or a fortnight before, and I said I should, state the facts and the truth—after Parrock spoke to me, he turned away, and went some yards; he then turned round and walked towards the cart—I had gone on to the corner of Colville Square—we turned and walked towards it, and then they went—when we turned he was about as far as the horse's head—I was next door to Cuff's post office, standing on the pavement, when I saw Brannan—I am not positive that I mentioned Cook's name to him—I may have said Parrock and the woman—I may have sworn at the Police Court that I mentioned Cook's name—I went to Bosworth Road with Sergeant Varnham—I did not tell Varnham to go to the station and tell the Inspector I had found Cook's whereabouts; nothing of the sort—I did not send Varnham to the station; Varnham left me and said he would go to the station—it was about 12.50 that I saw Brannan near Cuff's post office—I saw Parrock and the woman walking arm-in-arm in the Portobello Road—that was seven or ten minutes before I met Brannan—I said at the Police Court, before Mr. Knox, the same as I say here, that I may have mentioned Cook's name—I was present at the arrest of Cook—I went into the house—it is not a fact that all the constables were in the room while she was dressing—it is not a fact that Sergeant Brannan told us to keep out of the room—we did stay outside—
Brannan was in the room—he said something to the effect that he was a married man and would not look while she was dressing, and he turned his back to the bed and searched the drawers until the woman had dressed herself—the door was partly open and I could see Brannan at the drawers—I did not see the woman herself until she came to the door and said "You had better look in that side drawer, here are the keys if you want them"—I did not see any indelicacy or rudeness, and there was nothing more done than was necessary to prevent her escape—I should say from his manner that Brannan wished to save her from any unpleasantness—I did not make any report of the conversation, which I have sworn to-day, I heard to the inspector or superintendent—I wont say I did not mention it to any superior because Varnham knew about it—he was my superior—I may have mentioned it to Young a week or nine days before I went to Mr. Wontner's—I say to-day it was 12.15 when I saw Young first—I said at the Police Court on the first examination it was 12.5 but on the second or third examination I said it must be later than that—it must have been after Young had given his evidence that I altered it—Young may have said it was 12.20, but I was not there when he was examined and he did not tell me—I think it was the latter end of April that Young and I talked about that conversation, he recounted it to me—I can't say how long that was after Brannan's committal; it must have been before the committal—I know. a Police-constable of the name of Frost—it is very likely that I made a statement to Frost about my resigning; we lived together—I swear I did not tell Frost I should send in my resignation on account of Brannan's job, and that—I was afraid I should be dismissed from the Force because of my different statements—nothing of the sort—he is 20 X Reserve—I might have told" him I had sent in my resignation—I 'thought of doing it a long while before I did—I don't think I told him I would put in my resignation because of Brannan's case—I could not swear I did not—I don't remember saying anything about Brannan's case—I won't undertake to swear I did not tell him so—I did not speak to Frost about my statements differing on the different examinations—I was receiving 27s. a week when I was in the Police—my wages now are 21s—may I state my reason for accepting that; my intention was to go home and work at my trade, and this-trial being postponed I got this situation at the Great Western Railway.
Re-examined. The conversation I had with Young about the conversation with Brannan before we went to Mr. Wontner's office was this: Young said "You remember the morning he was charged don't you, well I shall out with that when I go up there"—I don't think there was anything further—Mr. Lewis examined me when I gave evidence at the Police Court on this charge of perjury—when Cook's room was searched she brought the keys and paid "Here are the keys if you want to look"—that was after she was dressed.
JOHN NEWKAN . I am the keeper of the Notting Hill Green Yard—on the morning of the 19th February a cart and horse was brought there between 4 and 5 o'clock by two policemen—after they had gone I searched the cart and found a small crowbar and a knife wrapped up in a piece of paper in the front of the cart—I found them not many minutes after I took. the horse in; I went to take the straw out and saw something in the cart and took it out—I saw Sergeant Brannan that morning—he came to my place to give me orders to take the-horse and cart to the Police Court
that was the same morning between 7 and 8 o'clock—I showed him the jemmy and the knife and told him I had found them in the cart, he said "I don't believe so," or "I don't think so"—I gave them to him—there was another Sergeant with Sergeant Brannan—they took the things away.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. The cart was brought to my place between 4 and 5 o'clock—it did not leave my place to go to the Police Court—I kept it there—Sergeant Brannan came between 7 and 8 o'clock to tell me to take the cart to Marlborough Street—I was to be there when the Court opened, at 10 o'clock—he did not say he had come for something he had forgotten—he said he had come to search the cart—I showed him what I had found and he said "You don't mean it"—Sergeant Varnham was with him, and took away the jemmy and the knife.
HENRY DREWITT (Police Sergeant X 37). I was acting Inspector at the Notting Hill Station on the morning of 19th February—I took the charge against Parrock and Cook—Brannan was there and preferred the charge—I asked him what property was to be put on the charge-sheet; ho told me, and I entered what he told me—he did not say anything at that time about the jemmy and the knife—afterwards, later in the morning, I entered the jemmy and knife; that was about 7.15, an hour and a quarter after the charge had been taken—they were brought in to mo by Sergeant Varnharn, who stated they had been found in the cart, and he had brought them from the Green Yard, and then I entered them as they now appear.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Sergeant Varnham is here to-day as a witness—I served the summons on the woman Charlwood—I had the summons, I think, two days before I found her—I did not tell Mr. Knox that she was about and that I could find her—the charge against Parrock and Cook was read over in the presence of Young—Varnham brought the jemmy and the knife wrapped up in a piece of paper—I was not at the Police Court on the first day of the hearing of the case against Parrock and Cook—I was not there until the fourth or fifth time, I think—Varnham said they had been to the Green Yard, and the knife and jemmy were given to them by the Green Yard keeper—the words knife and jemmy were on the charge-sheet when Parrock and Cook were first before Mr. Knox, and before the sheet left the station at all.
JONAS HOLE (Police Inspector X), On the morning of 19th February I was at the Notting Hill Police Station—I received a telegram there about a portmanteau about 1.15—Brannan was there at the time—he went out about 12.10 for the purpose of going his round—Talbot Road is about half a mile from the police-station.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I have been in the force seventeen years, and I have known Sergeant Brannan just over four years—he has been under mo four years—he was under Super intend ant Eccles before I came there—he is the son of the late Inspector Brannan who used to attend to the Mint cases—during the four years he has been under me ho has performed his duty very satisfactory indeed; and in every way, as far as I know, he has borne the character of being a diligent, careful, and truthful officer—I never knew him tell an untruth during the time he was under me—he had been recommended for promotion at this time—he had been some 30 days on the sick list from ill health up to the day before this occurred—I think that was the first day ho had resumed duty—I was not present at the Police Court on the first occasion—I was at the police station when Parrook was brought in—I did not say to Brannan in Parrock's hearing "No,
Brannan, that won't do"—that is not true—it is not true that Brannan said "I charge him with. stealing a horse and cart," or that I said "Come, come, Brannan, that won't do"—if Parrook says that it is false—Sergeant Varnham is under me—he has attended on all the days when this matter was before the Magistrate—he gave evidence in Parrook's matter, and I believe he was called by Mr. Lewis when he had the prosecution of Brannan—he was subpconed by the prosecution.
Re-examined, I could not say whether he was the second witness called in Parrock's case—I don't recollect whether he was called when Brannan was charged with perjury—I know he was subpoened to attend and I thought he was called—I could not say whether he was or not—Brannan was sergeant at that time—I can't say how long he had been a sergeant; he has been four years under me, how long before that I can't say—he was under consideration for promotion, that would have to be determined by the superior officers of Scotland Yard.
JOHN WORSLEY . I am landlord of the Blenheim Arms—I was in the bar on Ash Wednesday, 18th February last—I knew Parrock and Richmond—they came in shortly after 10 o'clock and remained until closing time, which was 11.55 or 11.58 as near as possible—I can't say exactly whether they left the house during that time—I went into supper—I never missed them from the house—I heard something about a letter—the barmaid was asked for a stamp—I think Richmond asked, I am not sure—the stamp was supplied; we oblige sometimes after the post is closed.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. The earliest time that I saw Parrock and Richmond was shortly after 10 o'clock—I was in the bar the whole of the evening from 5 o'clock and I continued there up to 12 o'clock, except perhaps ten minutes for supper—I should think that was about 11 o'clock, from 5 till 11 o'clock I was there continuously—I never saw either of them go out—if they did it was not (or more than a minute or two—they were sitting in the bar the whole while—I did not hear a cart drive up, and I should not have noticed if there had been a cart pass, because so many pass—no one came in just before closing time on the side they were sitting—there might be some one in the other portion of the bar, but I don't remember.
Re-examined. I never missed them during the whole time—my barmaid was here the whole of yesterday—I have not seen her here to-day.
WILLIAM RICHMOND . I live in Earl's Court—I remember giving my son a letter to post, but I can't say the date—it was about the 18th of February—it was addressed to my sister at Yarmouth—I gave it to my son to get a stamp and post—I got an answer to my letter, but not for some time after wards.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I have not got' the letter.
WILLIAM GOLDSWORTHY (Policeman X 131). On the night of Ash-Wends day, 18th February, I was with another constable named Ship in Baiter's Fields, about 9.45—while'we were there-1 remember saying to Ship "Come on, Jack; this is the nearest way, through here"—that was through a farm—I saw a man and a woman—I did not know who it was at the time—I afterwards saw George, No. 360, with some horses—that was in the morning about 12.40 or 12.45—saw Parrock then—that was at Ladbroke Grove Road, Notting Hill.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I had seen him at 9.45 with some woman, but not Cook or Charlwood, or his wife—I next saw him at 12.45 in
Ladbroke Grove Road between the Railway Arch and Cambridge Gardens he was in company with George—I believe George is here—I have seen him this morning—Ship was there too—I heard Parrock remind Ship of the words he had used at 9.45 when I saw him at 12.45—he said "Was that you, Ship, that I saw in the Fields at quarter to 10?"—Ship said "I was there"—he said "I thought it was you and Bill, I can tell you the words that Bill said to you; did not he say come on, Jack, this is the nearest way through here"—Ship said "Yes"—I should think the distance from the Blenheim Arms to the place where I saw Parrock at 12.45 was three-quarters of a mile—I can fix the time because I was going off duty—Charlwood was not with him then.
ROBERT SHIP (Policeman X 141). I was with Goldsworthy in Salter's Fields on the night of 18th February, about 9.45—I remember him saying to me "Come on Jack, this is the nearest way out"—I saw a man and woman there at that time, but I did not know them then—I saw Parrock the next morning, and he said "Was that you and Cornwall in the farm-yard? "—that is what we call the other constable—I said "Yes"—he said "I thought it was, because he said 'Come along Jack' I knew the voice"—it was about 12.45 in the morning when I saw him.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. He was fixing on my mind what had occurred at 9.45, and he repeated the exact words—George was there, and he said in the presence of George "I can repeat the exact words that you used at a quarter to ten"—he did not seem out of breath at that time—I did not notice that he had been running.
OLIVE STEVENS . I am the wife of Amos Stevens, and live at 1, Bolton Mews—Sergeant Brannan called at my house and left a card—I don't know what was on it—he inquired for Caroline Charlwood—she was not with me at the time; she had been gone a few days—he left the card for her—I afterwards gave it to my little brother to take to Charlwood.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. I don't remember what was on the card—I knew it was a solicitor's card at the time Brannan left it, but I did not know it was Mr. Barnard's—Brannan said "Would you give that to your sister"—my sister had been living with me, but she had been gone a few days—she had been living with me since she left her place—when Brannan left the card, he told me it was for my sister to go to his "solicitor's—I did not see what was written on the card—there was some printing on it, I believe—it was that gentleman (Mr. Barnard) who gave me the card he was with Sergeant Brannan.
ROSE PARKER . I have been living at 1, Oak Terrace, Bromley Road, Notting Hill—on the night of Ash-Wednesday, the 18th February, I was with Mary Ann Cook—I joined her about 9.40 in Ladbroke Grove Road—I remained with her till about 12-50 or 12.55—I won't be sure for a minute or two—we were not in Parrock's company at all during that time—I knew him—I saw him in the Bolton Road that night with Charlwood—I think that was a little after one—I did not see Richmond at all—I was near Cuffs post office, that must have been before 1 o'clock—I saw a cart pass by with several policemen in it—I had not seen that cart before—I went to Marlborough Street in the first place as a witness for Mrs. Cook, but I was not called—I was called at the last when Brannan was charged with perjury—I was only called once—I have not seen Brannan for a long time—I have been brought up from prison here—I have been threatened that I should not give evidence here by several policemen, and I am sorry I was ever on the case.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I think I have spoken to Sergeant Brannan twice; once here at the Old Bailey, and once in the street by the Elgin public-house as I passed him—that was before he was committed for trial—the charge against me is being with a gentleman in the Lancaster Road—the charge was made on Saturday night, at Notting Hill, and I was taken before Mr. Ingram, at Hammersmith—he asked me what I had to say, and I said it was quite a false charge, and I was bound over in 140l. to appear yesterday morning, and then he took no notice of what I said, and sent me to prison for fourteen days, in default of 5l. bail—it must have gone 1 o'clock when I saw Parrock in Bolton Road, it was after I had seen the police go by in the cart that I saw him with Charlwood—I made a mistake just now; it was 1.10 when I left Cook in Portobello Road—we were together all that night—it was after I had seen Parrock that I wished her "Goodnight"—the cart passed me opposite Cuff's post office, at 1.10, driven by several policemen—I said at the police court "I saw Parrock at the entrance of Bolton Road, at a few minutes to 1 o'clock, he was with a female so similar to Mrs. Cook, that if I had seen her from behind I should not have known the difference between them"—that is quite true—I also said "Nobody has attempted to tamper with my evidence," and that was true to when I gave my evidence—I fix the time by the pie shop, which closes within a minute or two past 1 o'clock that is all I have to go by.
Re-examined. I say Cook and Charlwood are alike from behind:—they, are not alike looking at them in front—they are about the same height and form—at a distance I should take them to be the same—Mrs. Cook is slimmer built than the other one.
GEORGE PAYNE . I am a surveyor—I made the plan (produced) to a scale—it is correct—from the Blenheim Arms to Cuff's Post Office, going down the Portobello Road, it is 185 yards, and from there to the pillar box, along the Elgin Road through the Colville Road, it is a little over 2.40 yards more, and from the pillar box to where it is said the cart stood is 129 yards—the width of the Talbot Road where the cart was, is about 43 feet from wall to wall.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. There are three houses and a line of shops—the line of shops run level with the areas of the three houses—where there is a shop there is no area—I got the information of where the cart was from Mr. Wontner's office—it was a little further east than the Colville Hotel—there is a blank wall opposite the Colville Hotel which runs down to the entrance of Colville Square—the cart was nearer Colville Square than Portobello Road—I don't know the distance to Blagrove Road where Richmond lives.
Re-examined. The distance from the western entrance to the square to the Portobello Road is 143 feet.
MR. BESLEY desired that the witness Edney, whose name was on the batch of the bill, should be put in the box for examination, and that George and Yarn-ham, whose names had been mentioned, should also be called. MR. POLAND did not propose to call any of those witnesses, and stated that it had been decided in the. Fenian case, by the Lord Chief Justice and Mr. Baron Bramwell, that the responsibility was with the counsel for the prosecution to call such witnesses as he thought fit. THE COURT concurred in that decision: although a Judge might require a witness to be called whom he thought would throw any light on the case, he should not, in this instance, interfere with the discretion of Mr. Poland.
The following witnesses were called for the defence.
JOHN SPACEMAN HORNBLOW . I live at 3, Basing Road, Notting Hill—at midnight, on 18th February, I left the Duke of Wellington Hotel in company with two gentlemen named Francis Payne and Richard Randall Mr. Payne is not here to-day; I believe he has met with an accident; he was here yesterday; he has been here with me every Session that this case has been on—from the Duke of Wellington we had occasion to pass through the Talbot Road—I know the Colville Hotel; opposite that there is a blank wall; in passing that I saw a horse and cart standing there—I made some communication to the gentlemen who were with me—the horse appeared as if it had been driven very fast; the reins were down round its heels—I thought it very strange to see a horse and cart there at that time, and I walked round to the further side of the cart, put my foot on the wheel, and looked up into the cart—I pulled some matches out of my pocket, and stepped down off the wheel to see who the cart belonged to—I lighted three matches for the purpose of seeing the name—I did not at that moment see any person except my friends about the Talbot Road—we remained there some short time looking for a policeman—I saw something in a doorway on the opposite of the road, and I went across to look and a policeman came out dressed in uniform, it was the prisoner—I spoke to him—I should say then from twenty to twenty-five minutes after we had left the Duke of Wellington—we came out from there just after 12 o'clock, and there we stood talking some time, and smoking a cigar a few minutes—I asked Brannan if he knew anything about the cart—he told me to mind my own affairs, to go home, he knew all about it—we then proceeded along the Talbot Road as far as All Saints' Church, where I had to turn to go home—there is a pillar box opposite the church—I stood there talking to my friends for some time—at that time I saw two men in the doorway of the porch of the church; it is not much of a porch; they were exactly in the doorway—they came across and looked at us three, after we had observed them for about a minute, I should think—I was speaking to the gentlemen about those men; they did not speak to us—I think I said "Good night" To them, just merely to see if I could recognise who they were—they made no reply—they went towards where the cart was standing when we left it"; it was only about 50 yards distant—I was standing at the corner of the Colville Road, the next corner to where the cart was standing, on the east side—I saw them go round the corner into Colville Square, and then I saw them return towards the cart; they went out of sight for about a minute or a quarter of a minute, and then they came in sight again, and went towards the cart; they appeared hanging about—I saw no more of them after that—I should think I saw them altogether for about a quarter of an hour—they were shifting about the road quite as much as that—I made a communication to my two friends about them, in consequence of the character of their movements—I watched them, I thought it very strange, and the cart being there.
Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. I am an ex-publican, out of business at present—I was living at 3, Basing Road at this time, where I am living now—I was summoned before the Magistrate, but not called—that was when Brannan was charged with perjury—Mr. Sleigh conducted the case—I went into the Court once—I gave no information on this matter till I was called upon—I went to Mr. Barnard's, the solicitor's office—I don't know the date, it was some time after the examination at Marlborough Street—I
have been in the police; I have my certificate here—I was in several divisions—I was in the B division—I was not dismissed or forced to resign—I left the police about seven years ago—I resigned of ray own accord—I was not in the B division when I left the force, I was acting Inspector of the V division—I did not know Braanan when I was in the B division, I knew his father—I never knew Sergeant Brannan; in fact I did not know him when I spoke to him that night—I never spoke to the man in my life—I might have seen him before, but I did not exactly know him—I did not know him by name, or who he was, I knew he was a sergeant of police—I was not charged with any offence when I was in the B division—I was never reported for any offence—I was reported once, I believe, that was some years ago, when I was in the C division, for gossiping for five minutes, that is all you have got against me—I should think the Duke of Wellington is about 150 yards from the Talbot Road; it may not be so much, from 100 to 150 yards—the Talbot Road was in my way home-:—I live at the end of it, just round the corner to the left, Clydesdale Road—that was my nearest way home—I should think it must have been about 12.15 or 12.20 when I saw Brannan; it might have been 12.25,1 did not pull out my watch, I don't think it could be later—I don't think it was 12.35, I will not swear to a minute, it may have been; I did not take the time precisely, it was some time after I came out of the public-house—Brannan was in a recess in the doorway, out of sight of anybody in the street, unless they looked very carefully, it was rather a dark doorway, it is not a portico, it is a recess—a person on that side of the pavement might see him, but not where I was, it is a very wide road—I saw him after he looked up, I don't say that he was particularly concealed—I suppose he was there to see who went to the carti I saw nothing of Hannah and Young, they were not there at that time, nor any policeman—I had not seen them—I saw no woman there—Brannan did not come up to me directly I went up to the cart—I dare say I was at the cart two minutes—I saw him after I had lighted the matches—I saw him come from the doorway—I am positive he did not come from the direction of the Portobello Road—after looking at the cart I turned about to see if I could see any one, and I saw the police officer in the doorway, and I went; partly towards him, he never came to the cart at all, he met me in the road, he came down off the pavement into the road—I did not go back to Brannan after seeing the two men and tell him what I had seen, he could see them himself, he stopped opposite the cart, I left him there—it was no business of mine—I left it to the police.
Re-examined. I was at the Police Court to be called if it was thought fit—I was not in Court when Brannan was committed for trial, I was there afterwards when Mr. Knox refused to hear any witnesses as he meant to send the case to the Session—when I left the force I had a first class certificate from Captain Labalmondiere—I was never fined a farthing or punished or degraded, the report for gossiping was when 1l. first joined the police, it came to nothing, it only cost me five minutes—Mr. Payne who was with me on this night is a gentleman, a medical student, his father is a Magistrate—the solicitor for the defence called upon me after Brannan's committal and I gave him my proof of what I had seen—I was waiting and delaying my progress home for the express purpose of finding a police-man to tell what I had seen, I looked in all directions to find one; I did not go back and tell Brannan that I had seen the two men because he could
see them himself, they went nearly close to where he was, they went towards the cart and where Brannan was standing in the doorway; he returned back to the doorway after I left him; that is exactly opposite the cart, he was then out of sight—when he told me to mind my own business he said it as if perhaps I should get locked up myself, as if he did not want me to interfere—I understood that he was watching the cart, that was the reason I did not go back and communicate any further—he said he knew all about it.
By THE COURT. I do not think I could identify either of the two men; they were rather suspicious looking characters—one of them had got a light coat on and the other a dark coat—they looked decently dressed, their manner made me notice them, the cart being there, that was all.
WILLIAM RICHARD RAKDALL . At the time of this transaction I was lodging at 122, Ledbury Road, Notting Hill—I am an articled clerk to a solicitor—I recollect in February being with Mr. John Hornblow and a gentleman named Payne, a medical student—I can't swear to the date—we had been playing at billiards at the Duke of Wellington, and after that I was in the Talbot Road with him and Mr. Payne—Mr. Payne has been here every day till yesterday—when I was in company with those two gentlemen I saw a cart and horse standing by the curbstone in the Talbot Road, and then we passed on towards All Saints' Church—I really forget whether we stopped talking there then—I don't remember whether I saw anyone there "besides Mr. Hornblow and Mr. Payne—when Hornblow was standing by the cart a policeman came on the opposite side of the road and said something, I forget what, but the gist of it was that he knew all about the cart—I forget whether Hornblow or the policeman spoke first—I don't recognise the policeman here to-day—Hornblow was by the cart and the policeman was on the other side of the road—I was near enough to hear all that passed if I had attended, but I was talking to my friend Mr. Payne—was not taking part in the conversation between Hornblow and the policeman—my memory is not very strong with regard to what took place on that night—my attention was not called to it for Borne time afterwards—I am not sure that I saw two men near All Saints' Church—I don't remember that Hornblow made any communication to me or Mr. Payne while we were near the church about what he had seen—I saw Mr. Hornblow go up to the cart—he lit two or three matches and said something—I think he said "This cart comes from the other side of the water" or something to that effect, if I remember right—it was between 12 o'clock and 12.15 that we were in the Talbot Road and saw the cart—I think we parted from Hornblow at Clydesdale Road where he turned up—that turns out of the Talbot Road just by the side of the church.
Cross-examined. I did not see any constable concealed there—the constable I saw was near the Colville Arms—I don't know where he had come from—I suddenly heard Hornblow speak to some one—I noticed him standing on the opposite pavement, and then we walked on immediately—I was not examined before the magistrate and I did not attend—I think Hornblow mentioned. it again a few nights afterwards, but I took no notice—I did not give any statement to the solicitor; I called there and said I was with them or something to that effect—I can't speak positively as to the time, but the billiard room was shutting up as we left, and that shuts usually a little before 12 o'clock—I have nothing to fix the time except the fact of having left just as the place was shutting up—I think we stopped
a minute or two just outside speaking to some friends who were there—I don't recognise Brannan at all as being the constable who was there that night—I don't remember having seen two men and a woman loitering about.
Re-examined. I can't speak with any definiteness as to the time; my attention was not called for some time afterwards, and then I remembered having seen the cart.
By THE COURT. I don't really remember standing near All Saints' Church conversing before we parted—I don't remember two men "coming out of the Church door; it might have happened and I have forgotten it—I have some idea there was some conversation going on, but what it was I don't remember at all.
ARTHUR VARNHAM (Sergeant X 30). On the morning of 19th'February after Parrock and Cook bad been taken into custody I left the house where I had been with Sergeant Brannan and Sir Samuel George Jenkinson's valet and other people—I was on the point of going home when Brannan asked me to go the Green Yard with him, that was about 7 o'clock in the morning—he said he wanted to go to the Green Yard rather particularly—I said I wanted to go home to bed, and he said "You may as well come with me"—we went, and Newman gave up the jemmy and the knife to Brannan—he gave it to me, and I took it to the station and put on the charge sheet—I was afterwards in the yard at the Marlborough Street Police Court and heard an altercation between Brannan and Young; it commenced about who should go into the witness-boss' first to give their evidence—Young wanted to get into the box first, and Hannah wanted to get in second—Brannan said he would go in first—I don't remember being on the top of an omnibus with 'Young when this case was spoken of after the discharge of Parrook and Cook—I never heard Brannan say either in the Police Court or in the yard "I will mix it up for the b——sod, " nor on any occasion—I did not hear Young say "Had not I better get into the witness-box first, you can then bring in what you know about the woman Cook"—there was a conversation in the passage of the police-station the morning after the portmanteau was stolen, but I did not hear it.
Cross-examined. I heard the conversation in the yard at the Police Court—I was with Sergeant Brannan all the time; it was only as to who should get into the witness-box first.
Re-examined. I saw the jemmy and the knife at the Police Court" on the first occasion—I saw the jemmy on the shelf in the back room where the prisoners were kept—I don't know what became" of it saw it at the Police Court in the body of the Court—I saw Sergeant Butcher against the dotting Hill. Railway Station before the hearing Brannan was there—I can't say whether he showed Sergeant Butcher the jemmy and the knife at that time—I don't know whether' Brannan had got it in his hand then.
HENRY GEORGE (Policeman X 360). I have attended at this Court on' five occasions besides this as a witness for the. prosecution—I was examined, at the Police Court and was bound over by Mr. Knox as a witness for the prosecution—at 12.45 I was in Ladbroke Grove Road—I saw Parrock at" the corner of Cambridge Gardens—he was running through Cambridge Gardens as fast as ever he could—when he got to the corner of Thorpe Mews ho began to walk—he walked up to me and said "Halloa, George, have you got some stray horses"—I said "Yes Parrock"—he said "What are you going to do with them, arc you going to take them to the station"
—I said "Yes"—Ship and Goldsworthy then crossed the road and I left him—I did not hear the conversation between him and Goldsworthy and Ship—I had got three stray horses; one broke away at the corner of Cambridge Gardens and I was tying them up—I thought Parrock was running to assist me—Cook and Rose Parker were standing at the corner of Lancaster Road—I never saw Charlwood that night at all—Parrock was running towards where Cook and Parker were standing—I knew Charlwood as Carry Baxter—I knew her as a prostitute who used to walk Norfolk Terrace.
Cross-examined. I know Parrock very well; I have done duty with him—Ship and Goldsworthy came up by the Notting Hill station, they crossed the Road, and I left him with them—I did not see Parrock with any woman—he was running in the direction towards where they were standing—I could not say that he joined them—he stopped with the constables—I did not hear what he said to them.
Re-examined. Ship and Goldsworthy assisted in tying the horses—it was after that that I left Parrock talking with them—Parker and Cook were near then.
HUGH ECCLES . I am a superintendent of the Metropolitan Police—I have been in the force twenty-three years—I have known Brannan ten years, since 1864, when he joined the service—he has borne an irreproachable character up to this time as a truthful, zealous, well behaved officer—his language was always considered good—I had recommended him to the Commissioners as an inspector—that requires a Civil Service examination—I countersign every charge sheet in the division after the case has been disposed of to see if there is any remark upon them—Brannan had been on the sick list up to a day or two days before this occurrence took place—I understood that was in consequence of worry and grief for the loss of his father—he was allowed to be on sick leave for a month—I think it was the day previous to this occurring that he returned to his duty.
A large number of police inspectors and others deposed to the prisoner's good character.
GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Monday, October 26th, 1874.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH BULL . I am shopman at the London Reader office—on 23rd July, about 5 p.m., the prisoner came in and asked for "one," which I considered meant one copy of the London Reader—he put down a bad half-crown—I sent a boy for a policeman, and the prisoner said that he would go for one himself, and went up the court leaving the half-crown on the counter—he was given in custody with the half-crown.
LYDIA ELLIS . I am barmaid at the Sir Ralph Abercrombie, Covent Garden—on 9th October the prisoner came in for a glass of sixpenny ale and gave me a florin—I told him it was bad—ho said "Oh," and then gave me
a bad shilling—I bent it, and afterwards gave it to the landlord, who charged him.
GEORGE ATKINS . I am landlord of the Sir Ralph Abercrombie—on the evening of October 9th I was called into the bar and saw the prisoner there—Lydia Ellis gave me a bad shilling in his presence—I did not see the florin—I said "How came you to tender this bad shilling?"—he said "It is not a bad shilling"—I said "It is, and I am told you have tendered a bad florin before"—I gave him in custody.
THOMAS ROBERTS (Policeman, G 219). I took the prisoner and received this shilling from Mr. Atkins—I found on him a shilling, three sixpences, and thirteen pence in bronze—going to the station he said that he knew what had become of the florin, but all the brewers' horses in London would not draw out of him where it was.
Prisoners Defence. I changed a sovereign in Earl Street, Soho, for half a sheep's head for my supper, and this money was the change—I had been drinking.
GUILT—He was further charged with a previous conviction of a like offence, in May, 1868.
GEORGE LOCKYER . I produce a certificate. (Read: "Central Criminal Court. Joseph Carroll convicted May, 1868, of feloniously uttering counter feit coin, and sentenced to Seven Years' Penal Servitude") I was present—the prisoner is the man—I have known him twenty years.
GUILTY — Ten Years' Penal Servitude
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HOLLINGS the Defence.
WILLIAM WIGMORE . I am barman at the White Lion, High Street, St. Giles—on 21st September, at 10 p.m., I served the prisoner with half a quartern of gin and cloves, which came to 2 1/2 d.—she gave me a bad florin—I took it to the manager, who accused her—she said that she did not know it was bad—he then accused her of passing a bad shilling some weeks previous—she said that she was sure she was not in the bar on that day—he said that two witnesses would prove that she was, and gave her in custody.
Cross-examined. I have been about seven months in the service—bad money has been passed on three or four occasions—there are two other bar-men, but no barmaids—there are three compartments and a till in each—I did not put the shilling in the till—I took it to the manager directly.
Re-examined. I saw the prisoner when she was there three weeks before—she was not prosecuted because she left the house.
WILLIAM STONE . I am potman to Mr. Jex, on 21st September, about 10 o'clock, I was in the bar when the prisoner came in, but did not see the shilling put down—I have seen her frequently, and took a bad shilling from her five or six weeks before—I put it in the till where there was no other shilling—I found that it was bad about two minutes afterwards and there was still no other shilling there, I gave it to the manager—it was palpably bad.
Cross-examined. I have been there four months—I serve in the bar and
have seen the prisoner there several times—the till had been cleared some time before, it was just going to be cleared again—I knew what was in the till because I had been serving at that end of the bar all the evening and had taken nothing but copper—the prisoner may have remained five minutes after I served her—I did not see her again till 21st September.
Re-examined. Then I looked in the till, there was nothing in it but one shilling, some smaller silver and some copper, another woman was with the prisoner.
JOHN JEX I am manager of the White Lion, and have seen the prisoner there frequently, before September 21st—I recollect her coming in and Stone speaking to me—he then ran to the till and gave me a bad shilling out of it, which I gave to the constable—I kept it with another which had been taken cut of the till the night previous—I had three bad shillings, but I do not know who I took the third from.
Cross-examined. I did not see her put down a good shilling on the 21st.
ROBERT MARCH (Policeman E 359). On 21st September, the prisoner was given into my custody, and Mr. Jex handed me these two bad shillings (produced), she said that she got them from some man, she could not say who.
LOUISA RESCOUSLA . I am searcher at the George Street, Police Station—on 21st September, I searched the prisoner, and found a sixpence and fourpence in copper on her—she said that she got them at the White Lion, and that the young woman who was with her gave her the bad shilling, and she was very sorry, for it would get her five years.
Cross-examined. She said that it was the change out of the shilling.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
LUGIGI BRENTINI . I am a confectioner, of Si, High Holborn, on the morning of October 7th, I served the prisoner with some ginger beer and a penny cake—she gave me a shilling I told her it was bad—she said that she got it from a gentleman she did not know—I broke it and gave it to the policeman.
HENRY HARRIS (Policeman E 49.) Mr. Brentini gave the prisoner into my custody with this coin—she said that she did not know it was bad, a gentleman gave it to her and she could not find him—Mr. Wood came up and said that he believed she had been passing bad money in the neighbourhood for some time past—I took her to Mr. Wood's shop and the girl Bryan said in Mr. Wood's shop, that she was the woman who presented some bad coin a fortnight previously—I took her to the station—this shilling was found on her and a sixpence and 3 1/4 d. in bronze—I also received this part of a shilling from Bryan.
ANNIE BRYAN . I am assistant to Mr. Woods who keeps a pie shop in Holborn—on the night of the 7th October the policeman brought the prisoner in and I recognised her as having come in a fortnight before at about 7.45s. when she asked for a two penny eel pie; my mistress served her and she put down a shilling—my mistress said "Annie we have her now" and she broke the shilling—the prisoner said that she got it in
change for a half-crown and gave her a good one—my mistress let her go—I had seen the prisoner once or twice before and am sure she is the same person—this is the piece of the shilling (produced).
Prisoner. Have you ever known me to pass bad money before? A. No, but my mistress said "Annie we have got her now," because so much had been passed before.
She was further charged with a previous conviction of a like offence in March, 1873, in which she
PLEADED GUILTY— Two Years? Imprisonment.
MESSRS. Coleridge and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN JAMES FORD .—I am landlord of the Rose and Crown, Clare Court—on 1st October, between 7 and 8 p.m. the prisoner paid me a shilling for two half pints of beer—Mr. Mack a customer borrowed a shilling of me and I lent him the one the prisoner had given me, Stacey and his wife then came in and the prisoner asked them what they would have to drink; they said "Gin and ale" and he tendered another shilling, which I found was bad, I bent it and gave it back to him—he said that he took it from his employer, and gave me five pence—I went out and returned, Mack then came in and gave me a bad shilling—I went to the station, and communicated with detective Hines and went with him to the Craven Head, Drury Lane when we found the prisoner, Hines said to him "Do you recollect going into that gentleman's house 1" he said "I do"—Hines said "I want the coins you have about you"; he pulled out a half-crown a sixpence and 3 1/2 d. in. copper—Hines asked him for the base coin he had about him—he produced two shillings to me, which were afterwards found to be be bad—I gave them to Hines.
PHILIP HINES . I went to the Craven Head about 11 o'clock, at night and spoke to the prisoner—I asked him whether he knew me, he said "Yes"—I said "You have been to Mr. Ford's house to-night and you have uttered two bad shillings there, here is one, give me the coins you have got about you?"—he handed me a good half-crown a 6d. and 3 1/2 d. in copper—I said "Now I want the base coin"—he tried to give it to a little woman who was there—I seized his hand, he said "I will not give it to you I will give it to Mr. Ford"—he did so—it was a paper containing two bad shillings.
By the Prisoner. I have known you some years getting your living honestly as a porter in Covent Garden Market, and a shoe black.
THOMAS MACK . I am a printer of 17, Granby Place—I went into the Rose and Crown and borrowed a shilling of Mr. Ford, I took it home to my wife who gave it back to me and said that it was bad—I took it back and gave it to Mrs. Ford.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I consider the landlord has committed as much an offence as I have. I borrowed 3s. of the public-can's son at the Craven Head for the purpose of buying nuts; had I known they were bad I should not have kept them till 11 o'clock. I told the prosecutor where I got them, and had them in my pocket when I was apprehended, waiting to give them back."
Witness for the Defence.
JOHN TEMPLE . My father keeps the Craven Head—the prisoner asked me to lend him 3s. on Thursday to make up 10s.—I said that I had no money—he asked me to lend it to him out of the till—I said that I could not do that, but I went to the tray and lent him 3s.—he came back soon afterwards and said that he could not get the walnuts, and "Here is the 3s.—I put it on the shelf, and then he asked me to give it back to him, and I should have it the next morning, and I let him have it—I did not see whether they were good or bad—he was there nearly all the evening—I told him that my father was a man of such a temper that if he knew I lent anybody money he would be very angry.
Prisoner. I should not have kept in the house only that I wanted to return it. I have been fourteen years and eight months in the army, and was recommended to the Commissioners of Police for a shoeblack's place, which I obtained. I have a pension; the money I had was what my coat was pledged for, and the ticket was found.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his good character.
MESSRS. Coleridge and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
AUGUSTA. HOOKAM . I am barmaid at the Duke's Head, Long Acre—on the 16th September, at 10 p.m., the prisoner came in rather hurriedly and called for a glass of stout and mild ale—he tendered a shilling—I told him it was bad, and gave it to my father, who broke it—the prisoner then gave me a florin, and I gave him in charge.
ALFRED HOOKAH . I am landlord of the Duke's Head—on the 16th September the-prisoner came in a little intoxicated—I heard my barmaid say this is a bad shilling—I went round, stood by his side, and called for a glass of cooper—I drank it—the prisoner drank his and walked out—I followed him—he joined a woman in a plaid shawl—I followed them into Covent Garden Market and Drury Lane—they went into a house in James Street; I went into another compartment, and saw them served; they paid with coppers—I saw them go to another public-house, then the prisoner came across the road and asked me what I was following his wife for—I said "I am not following your wife"—I crossed the road; she struck at me, and seized me by the left leg—I collared him and gave him in charge.
MICHAEL DATBELL (Policeman E 281). I saw the prosecutor and prisoner struggling—I took the prisoner, and found this part of a bad shilling in his waistcoat pocket—this other piece was given me by Miss Hockam's father—while the charge was being entered Hinds said be has bolted some coin—the acting inspector said "Stop him if you can"—I took the prisoner by the throat and Hinds put a stick in his mouth, but found nothing.
Prisoner. Q. What did you take from me? A. A compass, a pocket-comb, and pieces of newspaper—you were in charge of a constable—you could have retired if you had asked—you were searched after the charge was made—I pinched your throat pretty tight, but you made no resistance—the stick Hinds used was 2 feet long and an inch in circumference—he did not have you on the floor—after the stick was put across your mouth Hinds got his fingers in, I mentioned this at the Police Court on September 28th.
charged, and saw him put his right hand into his trousers pocket and then put it to his mouth; I said "He is bolting the coin, seize him by the throat"—some white substance was in his hand which I think was a shilling—Dayhell seized him, and I took him by the throat and put my finger into his mouth, but could not feel any coin; he then made a motion with his throat as if swallowing something.
Prisoner. Q. How could you see anything in my hand? A. When you put your hand to your mouth, I am sure there was something there, for I heard it rattle against your teeth—you were three feet from me—you were pushed up against the wall and held there.
MARY MULLANY . I serve at Spiers and Pond's Restaurant, Aldersgate-street—on 3rd March I served the prisoner with a glass of beer, he gave me 1s.; I broke it hi three pieces in the detector and gave them to Mr. Garrett.
HENRY GALLETT . I am a wine steward to Spiers and Pond—on 3rd March I was in the bar and saw Mullaney serving the prisoner—I saw her put the pieces of the shilling on the counter—he offered to give her a shilling, she refused it, she gave it to me afterwards—he said that he came from Bristol—the constable had the shilling.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see it in my hand? A. Yes.
Prisoner's Defence. I had had too much ale and stout. I gave the woman a shilling and she said that it was bad. I sat down on a door-step and some unfortunate woman asked me to treat her and I did so; she told me that a man had been following her for the last half-hour, and I asked Hockam what he was following her for. He did not say anything about bad money or about my being in his house, I merely struck him because he told a falsehood. As to swallowing anything, my mouth was bleeding because the witness struck me, and I might have wiped my mouth with my hand. I was in the yard a quarter of an hour, and could have made away with anything while I was alone; is it likely that I should have let them see me put my hand to my mouth if I wanted to make away with anything, should not I have made away with the part of a bad shilling which was in my pocket. Of course I struggled when I was seized by the throat. The 3rd of March is eight months ago, I was then at work at Mr. Gelding's, coach builders, at Reading. Consider how easily a man' may come into the possession of a bad shilling. I may have wiped blood from my mouth, but it was impossible for a man to see anything go down my throat with a stick in my mouth.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, October 27th, 1874.
447. JOHAN FREDERICK SCHROEDER (24), PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for feloniously forging and uttering three orders for the payment of 5l., 3l. 10s., and 4l., with intent to defraud— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM MANN . I am a dealer, of 9, Oxford Street, Stepney—on 22nd October I gave McKee a letter with a money order in it—I chucked it on the table—I went into the yard at 4.30 and returned and missed the order—I stopped it at the post office—this is it (produced)—this "William Mann" on it is not my writing—I did not give the prisoner permission to sign my name.
McKee. I asked him to lend me some money and said "I will pay you on Saturday night;" he put the order in an envelope and said "There you are my boy, do as you like." I don't deny doing it, but he told me to do it, I asked them to let me have some money in advance and I would send my wife in the morning; they said no. I met Fireman and he lent me 8s. on it. Witness. That is false from beginning to end; he had been two days in my employment; I did not know him before—I showed him the letter because I could not read it myself, and I wanted to know who it came from; he read it to me and I put it down on the table—I drank with him on the Wednesday and I gave him drink on the Thursday.
McKee. Did not I make out invoices for you? A. No, they were made out, but not by you; they are at home, and they are not in your writing.
JOHN STRAUGHAN . I keep a post office at 148, Mile End Road—McKee came there on 22nd October with this order and asked me to cash it—I did not do so for two reasons, one that it was past the time, but principally because I had not the advice—he returned with Firman, who he said was willing to lend him 5s. on it; Firman said that he had known him some time—McKee said it was from William Mann, and I saw him sign William Mann on the order—the prosecutor came at 9 o'clock the same night and asked me to stop the order—I received the advice by the next morning's post, and on that morning Firman came and presented the order; I paid it to him in the presence of a constable who I had sent for.
McKee. I did it under the knowledge that he threw it over to me.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; MR. RIBTON defended Hill.
HENRY FERNANDEZ . I am cook on board the barque Emilia, lying in the West India Docks—on Sunday night, 4th October, about 11.30, I was in a public-house in the West India Road—I had 35l. in gold tied up in a
white handkerchief in my pocket, and I took out a half sovereign and changed it, and put the loose money into my pocket—I saw Regan and Hill there, they took me by my arms just in the doorway and put their hands in my pocket, and at the same time knocked me down—I said "My God, my money is gone"—Regan took my money, and I saw his hand cross and the handkerchief as he passed it to Fill—Morgan was outside, standing on my right—she took my muffler—they got away, but were afterwards taken in custody.
Cross-examined. I was paid off on Tuesday at Havre, and received the 35l., and arrived in London on Thursday—I put the money in my pocket because my chest would not lock—I had changed some foreign pieces at a tailors, four Indian rupees and half-a-crown, and we had a glass of beer together in a public-house, which I paid for with copper—I did not take the bag out there—I know I had the money when I was knocked down—I had only had half a beer glass of wine after leaving the ship—I had not talked to other women in the public-house, I spoke to gentlemen only—I spoke to Hill—there were eight or nine people in the public-house—I had two half glasses of sherry there, and the prisoners, each got one glass out of me—I was standing at the bar, and so were other people—I paid over the bar for the sherry and got the change, after which I stayed about four minutes—Morgan wanted more drink, but it was too late—I left the house and they followed, and there were others outside—I have never seen my gold since.
Regan. Q. Did you ask me to have a glass of port wine? A. Yes, and I treated the others as I did you—I did not go to the station house with you that I know of.
MARGARET FITZGERALD . I am an unfortunate girl, and live at Limehouse—on 4th October I saw Fernandez at a public-house at Limehouse—he paid for three glasses with "coppers and then he paid for five glasses and changed a half-sovereign, and I saw him tie his handkerchief up with the gold, I saw the glitter of the gold, but the quantity I do not know—all the three prisoners were then in the house—after the wine was drunk Hill and Regan took the prosecutor out of the house—I followed, and the man, was calling out after me "Julia"—two men who are not in custody came up, and the man was knocked down in the road and Morgan had the handkerchief in her hand—she offered it to me and said "It is a fine muffler"—the man first crawled a little on his knees and he said for God's sake would they give him 10l. and he would forgive them the rest, and one of them threw him backwards and kicked him—Hill came up and said "What is the matter?"—I said "If you don't know nobody else ought to"—she said "I defy you, you are all in the shed by the side of me"—Regan came up and said "You are a foolish girl"—I said "You take my foolish advice and go home to bed," and then he came back and said that he had only a few pieces of silver in his pocket and it was no use getting in trouble for that—the policeman said "If you want satisfaction go up before the Magistrate to-morrow"—I said "Come along with me and if you require a policeman I will show you where you will get one"—when he found I intended to go he turned back—I went with the sailor to the station and they took the charge, and two policemen were called off the beat—they went up to No. 3 in in the court, where Hill lives—she was not in doors and the policeman watched the house—I was not present when she was taken—I afterwards said "Here is the woman who had the muffler," and the policeman took her—she said
"Me, I don't know anything about it"—I said "Did not you have the muffler"—she said "I did not take it from the man"—I know the female prisoners as companions—when Regan left me he said "Don't fetch me"—I said "Go home and go to bed"—he said "I have had nothing to do with it, don't mention me in it"—the constable was the first to mention Regan's name—he is not here.
Morgan. Q. Did you see me pick the muffler up? A. No, but I saw it in your hand and you offered it to me.
Cross-examined. I went out of the public-house first about 9 o'clock, before the prosecutor came, and I went back and left when the house was closed—I was drinking; Mrs. Russell, my step-father's sister asked me in—her husband is alive—I can't say how many glasses of ale I had—the prosecutor talked to me and Mrs. Russell; he offered Mrs. Russell some sherry and told her to hand it to me, and she and I drank it between us—Regan sat in the prosecutor's seat, who returned and said "What for are you sitting by my girl?"—Mrs. Russell is not here, she went to the station but did not go inside, she was waiting for me when I came out, and I went to Sullivan's house with her and two policemen—I have known her since I was a child; there has been no quarrel and no friendship between us, only just stranger's distance—the prosecutor called for a glass for him-self and put coppers down, and then he gave me and Mrs. Russell another glass each—he said that' his ship was lying in the river—I asked him to go home with me and he said "Yes," but Sullivan dragged him from me and asked him to treat her, and I could not succeed in getting him home with me—Mrs. Russell said to me "You being a prostitute you may just as well have his money as anybody else," and having my child to keep I did so—she is related to me by marriage.
Re-examined. I was perfectly sober—I am certain I saw the gold taken from the sailor, and I saw the handkerchief flutter as it was passed over to Hill; Regan came and spoke to me at the time.
JOHN HOPKINS (Policeman K 13). The prosecutor pointed out Morgan to me in Fitzgerald's presence; she said to Fitzgerald "You know I had nothing to do with it—Fitzgerald said "I saw you with the man's muffler in your hand, and I told you to give it back"—when I took Morgan she said that she knew all the parties concerned, and she saw the man robbed.
EDWARD LEIGHTON (Policeman K 180). From information I received I took Hill on Monday morning at 6.30 in Gun Lane, Limehouse—I told her she would be charged with others not in custody with robbing a sailor in the West India Road—she said that she knew nothing about it.
JAMES DRURY (Policeman K 311). I took Regan on October 4th from information—I told him the charge—he said that he knew nothing about it. Hill's statement before the Magistrate. "I never drank at his expence; I was in another compartment. When I came out I spoke to Fitzgerald. She said 'I have a spite in for you for two years, and you shall pay for it.
REGAN was further charged with having been convicted at the Thames Police Court, in March, 1873, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MORGAN and HILL— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment each.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, October 28th, 1874.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
ERMINE TAYLOR . I live at 3, Moselle Street, Tottenham, with my mother—I am a single woman—on 27th June last I was confined of a child—the prisoner is the father of it—he is a police-constable—he gave me 5s. before the child was born, and 2s. afterwards—he agreed to allow me 2s. a week, and said he would pay something for the expenses of my confinement—he only gave me 2s. altogether for the child, that was when it was nine weeks old—on Saturday, 26th September, an appointment was made to meet him at the gate leading to Mount Pleasant Fields—I met him there at 7.45 just inside the fields—we went across the fields to the brook; before we got there he stood listening, he fancied he heard some one; he stood against a tree—after he stood listening a little while we went further on to the water side; he asked me after the child—I told him she was getting as fet as a little pig, and I also said "She is three months old to-day"—he said it would have been a d——d good job if she had been in a box three months—I said I should not like to lose her now—he said nothing to that—we went along the water side till we got to a tree, he then went to a hedge or bush and returned back to me, and without a moment's notice he struck me twice across' the head; the weight that came on my head seemed like a hammer—I fell after he struck me; I bled—he then took hold of me and thrower me into the water—I believe it is a running water, they call it a sluice—I was only a yard or two from the water when he struck me—I went under the water; I floated about and came towards the bank, and he put out his hand and assisted me. out; he struck me again with the same instrument two more blows on the head—I fell, and then he knelt on my side and put his thumb and finger under my throat and tried to strangle me—I did not speak, but we struggled for two or three minutes, and in our struggle I bit his finger; I could speak after that, and I asked him to have mercy on me, so that I could go home to my widowed mother' and my child; he granted it, provided I would not say who it was that committed the assault or swear to the father of the child—I said I would not, provided he would let me go home alive—I had a hat on, but that fell on the brook side—when we were coming away across the field together he noticed that I had got no hat on, and he wanted me to go back with him to fetch it; I refused, and he went back and fetched it and placed it on my head; at this time I was bleeding down my face and right down my back, the blood was streaming from the wounds I had received—when we got into the adjoining field he noticed it, and he took out his pocket handkerchief and dipped it in the water and wiped the blood from me, and then he threw his handkerchief on the ground, on the right hand side, as we were coming out of the field, and left it there—when we got into the middle of the path he said he was sorry for what he had done, but he had been drinking—he seemed just as sober as I am at this moment'; he accompanied me as far as the Church Road, and there he made me promise again that I would not say who had done it, and he asked me to meet him against the old church at '8 o'clock on the following Tuesday—he left me at the top of Church Road—he said he would give me 10s. for my child, and he kissed me and bid me good night—after he left me I found my way home by the iron railings of the cemetery—I got into Charles Street, and there I was assisted, and got home to my mother—she attended to me, and a doctor was sent-for—I am under the doctor's care now.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. When you went back and fetched my hat you asked me not to say who had done it, you did not say then that you were sorry for what you had done, not till you got into the middle of of the path, you did not say so on the spot—you told me you would take me home, that was when I was going across the other field far away from my home, when I was going the wrong way—we passed two boys Sitting on a gate—I said that one of them was my brother; I said that because I was afraid that you would further knock me about, that was at the gate leading into the field, as we were coming back—I did not say to you" Charley I wont round on you"—I said "You have hurt me "and you said "I am sorry for what I have done, but I have been a drinking"—I did not say to you against the old church "Don't go any further with me for fear some one might see us together"—I never heard you say that you would do me an injury, only on the Tuesday night I told you that mother did not like minding my child when I came out, and you said "Meet mo Amy for the last time, I will send you your money afterwards.
By The Court. I said that one of the boys was my brother because I was afraid he would commit further injury to me—he did nothing to me after he tied my hat on—I sank under the water once, I can't tell how deep it was.
THOMAS BURKETT (Policeman Y 291.) I am stationed at Tottenham—the prisoner is a police constable stationed there—499 is his number. On the evening of the 26th September about half-past nine I took the prisoner from Tottenham police station to No, 3, Moselle Street, the prosecutrix mother's—the prosecutrix was there attended by the doctor—she said she had been violently assaulted that evening in Mount Pleasant Fields, and pointing to the prisoner she said he was the man that did it, he did not deny it, he made no remark—next morning at day light I and another constable searched Mount Pleasant Fields by the Moselle brook—from the appearance of the ground there was evidence of a violent struggle—I found this bow belonging to a woman's bonnet, or dress with these hair pins in it, it is part of a woman's head dress—I saw a quantity of blood lying, and about three feet from the blood I found this life preserver, there was no string to it, here is a hole where the string has apparently been; a string was afterwards found by Tiley another constable, it is not broken but it is sprung in the centre—the police in our neighbourhood are not armed with such a weapon as this, the men employed in plain clothes might carry such a thing, but they are not supposed to do so, they are generally furnished with short truncheons—the struggle had apparently taken place about four feet from the brook, the blood was at the same place—there was a great quantity of blood on the grass—the prisoner was perfectly sober, I walked with him from the station to Moselle Street, which is close upon a mile, and he had not the sign of drink upon him.
WILLIAM TILEY . I am a divisional detective stationed at Tottenham—I found near the brook this piece of string, it was broken, there is a knot where it was tied, I found it on the Monday morning about 11 o'clock—I saw the appearance of the strugg'e, and the blood—I measured the brook there, it was three yards and ten inches wide, and one yard and one inch deep—it is about the same depth all along, there is a hatch that keeps the water back—I went to the prisoner's house and his wife gave me a pair of trousers—I examined them I found a mark on the left thigh that appeared like blood—I went to the prosecutrix house on the Sunday and got from
her mother a quantity of clothes and a part of the chignon which she wore that night, they were all wet with blood and water, they were taken out of a tub in the back garden—there was a great deal of blood on the chemise, and the hair was saturated with blood and water.
Cross-examined. I never saw you with, that weapon in your possession, I never saw it till I saw it at the station.
WILLIAM JARVIS (Policeman 7134). Sunday, 27th September, I was directed by Inspector Gray to search the Mount Pleasant Fields—I there found this pocket handkerchief close by the hedge, about 2 or 3 steps from the brook, it was very wet, chiefly with water, but there were several dark stains—I could not say what they were.
Cross-examined. It has no name on it.
Prisoner. The handkerchief I threw away had my name on it.
REBECCA TAYLOR . I am a widow, and live at 3, Moselle Street Tottenham—Ermine Taylor is my daughter—she lived with me—on Saturday, 26th. September, she left home about 7.15—she returned about 8.30—I let her in—I took her into the room and took off her hat, and the blood poured down from her head in the most fearful state, and there was not a dry thread upon her—I sent for a doctor immediately—I afterwards gave up the clothes to the constable, Tiley—I have two sons, one 18 and one nearly 16.
THOMAS GRAY (Police Inspector 7). I was at Tottenham Station on Saturday evening, 26th September, at 9.30, and received information as to what had occurred—the prisoner came in shortly afterwards for night duty—he was perfectly sober—I told him what I had heard, that a woman, named Taylor, of Moselle Street, Tottenham, had been violently assaulted, and he was supposed to have committed it—he said "I did it, Sir"—I said "This is a very serious affair, Carter, what could induce you to have done such a thing?"—he said, "I was walking with her and she said something to me and in a passion I struck her with my fists, and she fell. in the water, and then I walked home with her"—I told him he would not be allowed to go out on duty, that he would be detained in the station, and some time afterwards I charged him with committing the assault—showed him the life preserver after it had been found, and asked him if he knew anything about it—he said "No, I never had such a thing, I know nothing about it, if I did I would tell you, Sir"—he joined the force on 28th August, 1871, and was with me in Tottenham up to this occasion—his pay was 1 1/2 s. 7d. a week—he is a married man and has one child.
JAMES CORFIELD . I am a servant, and live at 6, William Street, White Hart Lane, Tottenham—I know the prisoner—about eighteen months ago I was with him in Northumberland Park—he asked me if I ever saw any of his men carry a stick with them when they were in plain clothes—I said "No"—he then pulled out a stick about a foot long with a knob at the end' and said he carried that with him—he did not say what for it was one like this (the life preserver)—I could not swear it was that one.
Cross-examined. I am sure it was not a truncheon, it was a stick like this, I thought it had a wooden knob at the end.
WILLIAM HENRY PLAISTER , M. R. C. S. I practice at Tottenham—on Saturday evening, 26th September, about 9 o'clock, I was called to 3,. Moselle Street, where I saw Ermine Taylor—she was wet through and was suffering from three contused wounds of the head, each one reaching to the bone—they were such wounds as would be inflicted by a blunt instrument such an instrument as this life preserver would be likely to inflict them—a
fall could not have done so—she was also bruised universally all over her ribs, arms, and legs—she has been under my care ever since—the wounds on the head were dangerous—she is out of danger now, in my opinion—she is under my care now—this handkerchief appears to have marks of blood upon it.
ERMINE TAYLOR (re-called). I know this handkerchief—it is the one that Carter wiped the blood off my face with—it was that colour—the moon shone on it and I saw the colour—it was a clear moonlight night—we met at the gate at 7.45—I had not walked with him along by the river before that—I had not met him at that gate before, I had met him at the other gate, not that one.
THOMAS BURKETT (re-called). There was no blood on the instrument when I found it—it was about 3 feet from the blood—the prisoner was not on duty at that time—he would not carry any truncheon with him if he was not on duty—he would have no instrument at all then—I have never seen that one in his possession, nor heard him say anything about it.
The Prisoner put in the following written defence: "On Saturday evening, September 26th, I left home at 6.30 p.m. and went into Mount Pleasant Fields, which I usually did of an evening for a walk, where I met Taylor about 7.15 p.m., not by appointment, to give her money as she states. She asked me what I was doing there, I told her I had been watching a man, which I had, she then asked me where I was going, I told her I was going across the fields, where she followed me. I did not ask her to go with me. She then began to ask me for some money towards the support of her child, which she says I am the father of, whenever I met her she always asked me for money. Knowing that I am not the father of her child, I did not give her any. The first time I had anything to do with Taylor was about the end of December, 1873. She then said if I did not give her some money, she would swear the child to me, whereupon I got in a passion and struck her on the head with my fist, when she fell into the water—I did not throw her into it, as she states, we were at the edge of the water at the time I struck her. I then took hold of her hand, and assisted her out, we then went out into the field, I struck her again, I then went back and fetched her hat, and gave it to her, and told her I was sorry for what I had done, I had done it in a passion, I then wet my pocket-handkerchief in some water and washed' her face, I then told her I would take her home, I went more than half-way home with her, when she asked me not to go any farther with her, for fear some one might see us together, I again told her I was sorry for what I had done, I then left her and she ran towards home. I had no intention whatever to do Tayloy an injury, which was done in a passion, for which I am very sorry. I beg to state that I never had the life preserver in my possession, neither did I use it. The first I saw of it was when Inspector Gray shewed it to me at the Police Station on Sunday, September 27th, and asked me if it belonged to me, I told him it did not, and had never seen it before. The witness Corfield, has never seen me with it in my possession. I hope gentlemen you will deal as lenient with the case as possible, and I will endeavour to leave the country at once.
GUILTY — Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, October 28th. 1874.
Before Mr. Justice Denman.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
FRANCES ACKHORT . I am the wife of Charles Ackhort, of 10, Great Earl Street, Seven Dials, a blacksmith—the deceased Mary Ann Ford was my sister, she was 33 years old—she lived with the prisoner as his wife at 13, Princes Road, Newport Market—she was of intemperate habits—she came to see me on Saturday, 19th September, between 8 and 9 o'clock in the evening and she left at 11 o'clock—she was then drunk, but in good health and in very good spirits—the next morning Sunday, about 7.30 or 7.45, the prisoner knocked at my door, he only lived a street or two off—I asked who was there; he said "It is me, open the door"—he came in and said "Get up quick, Polly is dead"—I was in bed, I scrambled out and said "What is the matter, she was all right last night?"—he said "Yes, I have killed her and I am very sorry for it, dress yourself quickly and come with me"—I went with him to his room and my sister laid in the bed dead—I touched her and she was dreadfully cold—I said "John she has been dead for some hours"—he said "Dead is she, do you think she is Fan?'—he said that he would not believe she was dead till a doctor came—he then went to the next room, to Mrs. Allen, and said "Polly is dead," and he called Mrs. Allen's sister and said "Come in Mog and look"—Mrs. Allen came in and fainted away, and was led out into her own room—he told me he had done it and he was very sorry, and I was to make the best of it for him—some one went for the police, and John Smith came—the prisoner was then having a cup of tea in his own room, and he asked the policeman and Mrs. Allen's sister and me to have a cup of tea, and we all had some—we had not spoken a dozen words when the doctor came in—I am sorry to say that the deceased she was a great drunkard, in the habit of pawning the prisoners things and of falling about in the street or anywhere when she was drunk—he was a very good man to her—silent her 6d. when she left on Saturday.
Cross-examined. My sister had lived with Bishop two years, but not always in the same place—they lived about eighteen months in Princes Road, and before that in Year Street, Clare Market—he has been very good and indulgent to her—he was in regular employment with Mr. White, and he brought his wages home on Saturday nights—he has often found my sister in a state of intoxication in the streets, and has had to carry her home, and I have assisted him—she was terribly addicted to drink and used to fall about in a very strange way—she was in very good spirits on the night in question and sang a song in my room, and after that she borrowed the 6d. because she did not want to look mean—my husband and his daughter were in the room—she took the 6d. away, she did not spend it there—I did not leave with her, I never saw her again till she was dead—she wanted the 6d. to spend—I have a step-sister named Catherine Williams, she is a cripple and goes about with a crutch; she lives in Clare Market, not a great distance off—I met her with the deceased between 6 and 7 o'clock that Saturday night at the top of our street on the Dials; she had been having a little drink—my sister came away with me, and my step-sister never touched her; my step-sister is not here—I do not know what took place, after 11 o'clock—the prisoner only had one room, it was on the second floor back—I went there on the Sunday morning about 8 o'clock and found my sister lying on the bed covered with the clothes, with her head up very high, as if she had just got into bed—something like an hour elapsed from the the time I went in with Bishop to the time the
policeman came—he had two herrings, he cooked one and he wanted to cook the other for me—he did not buy them while I was with him, they were there when I got there—I was too confused to see whether he brought a milk jug with him, but I know he had milk—he said "Ask me no more particulars Fan, we were both drunk, and I am truly sorry for it," and he said that it would not have happened if he had been sober.
Re-examined. She had a shimmy on as she lay in bed.
ANN STOGDEN . I live in the same house as the prisoner in the first floor front room—I recollect Bishop and Mary Ann Ford coming home on 19th September about 11.30—was waiting at the door for my son—no one else was with them—they were coming home together very comfortably, and I thought she was very much the worse for liquor—that is what I call comfortable—I did not notice that she was bleeding—I saw them go up stairs—I did not notice whether the prisoner was sober or not—he kindly entreated her to go up stairs—he said "Come up stairs, come up stairs," and he was going up before her—she went up of herself—I saw nothing of Mrs. Lynch that night—I went up stairs in about half an hour, and heard nothing till I had been in bed some time—I live on the floor below in front—as near as I can guess, about 1 o'clock I heard the prisoner say to the deceased very loud "What have you done with my money?"—he also said "I have treated you kindly all day, and you have robbed me of my weeks' hard earnings"—I could not tell whether that was outside or inside the room—I afterwards heard the prisoner come down to Mrs. Park's room, which is the next room to mine at the back, and I heard her say to him "Don't make a noise, because my children would go into fits"—he said "Mind your era business."
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner some years by seeing him standing outside when I have come in, and I believe they have lived in the house about three years—as far as I have seen he has treated her well and kindly—there are, I should think, a dozen steps between the floor on which they lived and the floor on which I live, and there is a small landing—Mrs. Park lives on the first floor, right under the prisoner's room—I sleep heavily after being up early—I did not hear the deceased's voice at all—I know a man named Parry—he was not outside the door—I was sitting on my basket, waiting for my son, and the deceased called me a most disgusting name—the prisoner said "Come up stairs quietly; that woman don't offend anybody; don't insult that old lady"—I had often seen her before—she used foul language, and was very violent indeed when she was in liquor—after I heard the conversation on the stairs I went to sleep again.
GEORGE ALLEN . I live with my wife in the same house in the second floor front, which is opposite the prisoner's room—I am a printer and work at the Sunday Times—on 19th September, about 12 o'clock as near as possible, I got home to my supper, and Mrs. Parsons was in the room with my wife—(they are not related)—shortly afterwards Mrs. Parsons got up wished me good night and went up stairs—shortly after that the deceased came into the room, she was decidedly drunk—I think she shut the door and came in and stood with her back against it—I did not notice whether she had a bonnet on, or whether her head was bleeding—I asked her if she would be kind enough to walk out of my place as I did not want any disturbance, she looked up at. me and said that she did not suppose I did—I then heard Bishop on the landing, asking where lilts money was—I said
"Your wife is in here, if you will be kind enough to take her away I shall be very glad"—he came in, got hold of her, and pulled her out on to the landing—she was just inside the door, she might have been partly in and partly out, and then I closed the door again and went to finish my supper—she either fell down in my room or sat down purposely, I don't know which, on the floor in my room—while I was at supper I saw some silver and copper money on the floor, and I called out "Mr. Bishop, here is something belonging to you, I believe, it don't belong to me"—he came to the door and I handed him the money—I can not rightly say whether I picked it up or whether he picked it up but he says that I did, and then he said "Where is my sovereign?" I said "I don't know anything about it, here is the lot and here is the place, you can look for yourself"—I don't think he did look, I had but half-an-hour to my supper—I had to go off again—he went out of the room—T finished my supper as nearly as possible at 12.25—I had to be back at 12.30—when I got outside I saw the deceased lying across the landing with her head to the foot of the stairs—I did not turn my head, to look whether she was dressed—I called Bishop and said "I hope you will not make any disturbance after I have gone, to disturb my wife and children as my wife is very ill"—he said "I will not," and I was going down stairs when Mrs. Parsons said "For God's sake, Mr. Bishop, have not you got something that you could cover over her"—(when she came into my room she had her clothes on and a bonnet but no jacket or shawl)—he made some remark to Mrs. Parsons but what it was I do-not know and I did not turn my head round—I took no further notice of the deceased—soon after Mrs. Parsons left my room to go upstairs Mrs. Lynch came in, and I left her there.
Cross-examined. I have lived there nearly two years—I did not know the prisoner previous to living there—his room was next to mine—I did not notice whether the deceased had a bottle in her hand when she came into my roam—she closed the door and put her back to it, but I don't think he pushed her away when he came in, because before he came in she slid herself down—I do not know what her motive was, she either fell or slid down.
COURT. Q. You said before the Magistrate that you saw a naked person lying on the landing? A. No.—I suspected she was naked from the words Mrs. Parsons made use of; that is a mistake—she was not naked when she sat down; it was about a quarter of an hour from the time she was in my room to the time when Parsons said Have you got anything to put on her?"—I was not at home more than twenty minutes.
MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. After she had been taken out did you shut your door? A. I either shut it or Mr. Bishop closed it—I then went and. finished my supper, and when I called to him and asked him not to make a noise, I cannot tell whether his door was shut or open—I had to pass it—it is not a very large house—the landing is about 9 feet from Bishop's door to the wall—no light was on the stairs, and I cannot say whether there was any light in Bishop's room—I called aloud to him not to make any further disturbance—and he opened his door and looked out and said "There will be no more disturbance"—I was then at the top of the stairs, and she was at my right side as I was going down—think the door of his room was shut when I passed, and that he opened it and answered—he was partly in the room, and about a yard or a yard and a half from her—she was lying at the
foot of the third floor stairs—I had not heard any tumbling—the only thing she said in my room was "I don't suppose you do."
MARY ALLEN . I am the wife of the last witness—of the day Mary Anu Ford died I had been confined twelve days—my husband came home about 12 o'clock, and he and I were sitting at the table having our supper at 12.15 or 12.20—Margaret Lynch was also there—the deceased came in—my husband told her to go into her own room as he did not want her there—she said "I don't suppose you do"—he called the prisoner to fetch her out—the prisoner answered "All right, Mr. Allen," and during the time he was coming she either fell or sat down by the door, and Bishop took her by the shoulders and threw her out on the landing—she said "Oh Jack, you beast"—my husband closed. the door, and then he saw some money, and told Bishop there was something there which did not belong to him, and to come and take it away, and he picked it up and gave it to Bishop—before my husband went away he begged the prisoner not to have any disturbance with his wife as she was very ill, and he said he would not—as my husband went out at 12.30 I saw the deceased lying naked on the landing—I believe she had her boots and stockings on—I had a candle in my hand—when my husband had been gone about ten minutes Bishop came to my door again and said "Missus, you must have more money of mine in your room"—I held the candle and told him to look about and satisfy himself, and he said that he was quite satisfied now—I raised a piece of carpet at the door to satisfy him that there was nothing there, and told him not to upset me as I was very ill—after that I heard a disturbance in their room as if some person was dropping on the floor; that lasted some time, but about 1.30 everything was very quiet—I had heard nothing on the landing, and do not know how she got away from the landing, but I heard scuffling in their room afterwards for half an hour—I heard no words; I only heard him say "Polly" once; that was loud enough for me to hear—the scuffling was like throwing about; it was as if some person was falling about or being thrown down—I did not hear her say anything to him after that—I heard no screams or cries; it got silent about 1.30, and I heard no more till about 7 o'clock, when Bishop knocked at my door, my eldest daughter opened it and said "Mr. Bishop what do you want V and he said "I want your mother"—I sat up in bed and said "What is it Mr. Bishop?"—he said "She is dead"—I said Oh, Bishop!"and asked who was dead; he said "Poll" or "Polly"—I dressed myself and went into his room with Mrs. Lynch, and saw him preparing the breakfast—I then lost myself, and remember no more till I found myself in my own room—I fainted away—to tell the truth, Mrs. Lynch had been with me all night because she would not go away and leave me.
Cross-examined. I am telling you' the truth—I had been recently confined and was not very strong—between the time my husband left and the time the prisoner came to my door, I heard scuffling and throwing about.
COURT. Do you mean that you could hear a scuffling and noise in the room A. Yes—I heard him say "Polly I want my money and I will have it; that was after my husband went out—I never heard him say "Polly will you go to bed" or "Polly will you get off the floor"—when I saw the deceased on the landing with only her boots and stockings on I fancy she was alive, I think she turned her head—she did not appear very drunk when she came into the room, because she came in very quickly—I do not know whether she had a bottle of gin in her hand, but at 10 o'clock on the
Sunday morning I saw a broken bottle on the stairs a few steps down from the landing, and there were marks of something having been spilt; I cannot say whether it was gin, I was too ill to smell it—when my husband went away she was lying naked on the landing, but she was not lying there long because he took her into the room—the second scuffle I heard was almost as soon as my husband left—when the deceased stood in my room with her back to the door—nobody was in the room but me and Mrs. Lynch and the children.
CAROLINE PARSONS . I am a widow and occupy the back room third floor in this house—on this night I heard loud talking between. Mr. Allen, Mr. Bishop and some more—I cannot say who, as there were so many voices—I got into bed at a little after 12 o'clock and then heard a great noise as if somebody was being beaten and thrown about—the noise proceeded from the room below me, it shook my bed—my room is over the prisoner's—I got up and began to dress myself, my daughter said "Don't go down stairs mother," but I went down to the foot of the stairs and saw Mrs. Bishop lying naked on the landing on her left side, with her head in the corner against the wall along the length of the stairs at the bottom—she had only her stockings, boots and garters on—the prisoner was standing by his own door, and I said "For God's sake Mr. Bishop what are you doing V he said "Go up stairs and mind your own business"—Mr. Allen came out of his room, and I extended my dress to shield the naked woman from his observation—I asked Bishop to give me something to cover her; he said "No the dirty drunken-beast, she has robbed me of my hard earnings—Allen then went down stairs and desired Bishop not to annoy his wife and children any more—I then went up stairs—Bishop stood in his door-way, he looked so wild that he frightened me and I stopped when I got on to the upper landing, looked over the banisters as far as I could reach, and saw him either dragging or lifting her—he went to. his own door and threw her in forcibly—I heard her fall, and she drew two heavy sighs as she fell on the floor—I then went into my own room, but did not get into bed—I did not know his name then, but I heard Jane Park not many minutes afterwards say "Mr. Bishop, if you do not leave off throwing that woman about I shall call in the police, you are frightening my children into fits"—I heard Bishop tell Mrs. Park that she was to be quiet and that he knew her character before she came into the honse—she said "You don't know any harm of me"—I listened attentively but heard no noise—next morning 1 heard of her death.
Cross-examined. I was in my room when I heard the loud talking, and the' door was shut—I then went down—there are a good many stairs between the third and the the second floor, and you have to turn round—I stood in front of the deceased when Allen went out, but I never saw her move—I was down on the second floor about five minutes—I did not see Mrs. Allen—Bishop's door was open as far as the bedstead would allow, and the only light there was for me to see by, was from a candle in his room—I had only had time to get up the stairs when I saw him dragging her in—the one landing is immediately above the other—it was a quarter of an hour after that, that I heard Mrs. Park call out—I had not been asleep, and I could not go to sleep for a long time afterwards—I heard no sound in the house after Mrs. Park's voice.
night in question I came home at 12.20, and when I got into my room I heard the prisoner say that he missed a sovereign his hard week's earnings—I afterwards heard a noise as of some one being thrown down with great force on the landing—I went out on the first floor landing but did not go up stairs—I heard the deceased say "Oh, Jack you beast"—I called up stairs to the prisoner and said "For God's sake man leave off that noise for you are frightening my children into fits"—he said "Go in and mind your own business."
Cross-examined. I heard nothing after that—I did not see or hear Allen go out.
By THE COURT. Directly afterwards he told me to go in and mind my own business I went to bed, and I should think I went to sleep in about twenty minutes—I have three children, the eldest is nine, another six, and another four; they were crying and that made me go out—they all went to sleep quietly when I went to bed with them, the two eldest sleep separately, and the youngest with me—I did not hear Mrs. Parsons call out—I heard no trouble in the room afterwards—I slept soundly all night.
JOHN SMITH (Policeman E 288). On Sunday, 20th September, I was called to the prisoner's room about 8.30, and saw the deceased lying on the bed—Mrs. Ackhort was there and the prisoner was getting his breakfast—I had not touched the deceased but I asked him if he could account for her death—he said "Yes, we had a few words last night about money matters, I knocked down, I kicked her and I chucked her out of the room, she robbed me of my week's wages last night and all she has left out of it is this," pointing to 10s. and some coppers—he said "She is dead poor thing"—he also said "I took her in the Cock in Grafton Street, last night and treated her to the best of everything, and now the nasty dirty beast has served me like this"—I told him I should take him in custody, he said "I hope not police-man, not till the doctor comes"—I said that I should detain him there and send for a doctor—I did so—Dr. Rogers came, who pronounced her quite dead—I told the prisoner to put on his coat and go with me—he said "Give me time to drink this cup of tea and eat my breakfast"—he finished his tea and half a kipper which he had cooked, and some bread and butter, and then he went with me—he told me not to handle him as he would go quietly, it was done and' he would make the best of it—he said at the station that she had pawned everything of his except a silk handkerchief, and he was obliged to keep that in his pocket to prevent her pawning it—I saw no boots except those which he had on, they looked as if they had been lately oiled.
Cross-examined. I swear that it was at the station that he said that about pawning—it was a very small room, there was just room for the bed and two or three chairs, and a table in the middle of the room—the bed came close to the door, you could hardly open the door for the bed foot.
MARGARET LYNCH . I am Mrs. Allen's sister, and live at 17, Dutton Street—I met the deceased in a public house on this night when I went for half a pint of beer—it was not the Cock—the prisoner was not with her—she went with me to Mrs. Allen's, we got there about 12.20—did not see the prisoner—the deceased had a half pint bottle af gin in her hand, which she took from the public-house—the public-houses close at 12 o'clock on Saturday nights, and by their clock it was 12.5—I went into my sister's room, and left the deceased at her own room door—she afterwards rushed into my sister's room and closed the door behind her—my brother-in-law
got up from his supper and called to Bishop to take his wife out, as he did not want any disturbance there—Bishop came in in his shirt sleeves and then the deceased stooped down in a corner and placed some money there as he came in—Bishop then dragged her into his own room and I heard him knocking her about in his room—he seemed as if he had been asleep, and slipped on his trousers to come into the room—he said that she had robbed him of his week's wages, a sovereign, while he had been asleep—I cannot say whether he had his boots on—my brother-in-law then called him and told him there was some money in the corner which did not belong to him, and he got a light and looked at It—my brother-in-law went to his work at 12.30—I then heard Bishop beating his wife in the room, and then he threw her on the landing—I did not see her, but I heard her, and I beard him going on about her robbing him—I did not go out on the landing—I heard Mrs. Parsons speak to him, but I did not notice what she said—I went away and went home, everything was quiet then—that was between 1 and 2 o'clock.
Cross-examined. I went away about 2 o'clock, but I did not go home exactly—I came again next morning.
Q. Do you know that Mrs. Allen has sworn that you never left her that night. A. She might have been asleep when I went out, but I did go—I was examined before the Magistrate, but not before the Coroner—I had been into Mrs. Allen's place before—I met the deceased in the public-house—I went from Allen's place to the public-house for a pint and a half of beer for the supper, and found the deceased there and went home with her—I went upstairs first and she came up after me—it might have been a few minutes after she came up on the landing, that she came into Allen's room—I thought, she went to her own room door and came in two or three minutes afterwards—she had the gin bottle when she came up, and I saw it on the stairs broken next morning—I did not swear before the Magistrate "I did not hear any blows"—I heard him drag her into the room—I am serious in solemnly swearing that I left Mrs. Allen that night, but she might not have known it, she might have been asleep—I walked the streets till the morning, because I thought Mr. Allen would not like my being there—Mrs. Park was attending to Mrs. Allen—I mean that I walked the streets from 2 till 7 o'clock in the morning, it might be, and never went to bed—I don't know why Mr. Allen should object to my fading there, but" we are not the best of friends—I am his wife's sister—I had supper with them, and! fetched the beer at my sister's request—I knew that Allen was going out.
EDWAED JOHN PARRY . I am a porter, and live at 12, Princess Road, next door to the prisoner—I occupy the first floor front—on 20th September I came home at 12.40 or 1 o'clock—I had lost my latch-key and rang my own bell—I went to the corner to see if I could borrow a key, and heard the prisoner say in No. 13 "I will put an end to this"—I was standing close to his street-door—I have known him about twelve years and I knew his voice—I did not see him.
Cross-examined. It was quite as late as 12.50—it could not have been earlier—the door leading into the street was wide open—it was not 1 o'clock—I have never had any experience in Courts of Justice as a witness—I was never a prisoner—I have brought these bills (produced) to show who the people are that I have paid money to—nobody has made any suggestion against me, but I thought I would bring them—a policeman brought me the summons to come here—I solemnly swear that I have never been charged
with any offence, only with being tipsy; I do not know that that is an offence—I have been convicted twice of being drunk, I was fined 10s. once and the other time I was discharged—I have never been fined for anything else.
Re-examined. I am in regular work now.
GEORGE BROWNING (Police Inspector C). On 20th November, about 9 o'clock, the prisoner was brought to Vine Street Station charged with causing the death of Mary Ann Ford—I went to 13, Princess Road, and found the body of the deceased in the bed, on its back, with nothing on but the portion of a chemise—it was cold and covered with bruises all over, and there was a bruise on the head—the doctor came afterwards—I found a smear of blood about the size of my hand on the floor of the landing outside the room, in the further corner opposite the door and near the stairs which led to the second floor; I also found a small mat inside the prisoner's room, two yards from the bed in the right hand corner as I entered—there were evident signs of struggling in the room, such as scratches on the floor as if made by a boot—in a small room which led out of the bed-room I also found a smear of blood—the only female wearing apparel which I could find was very much torn, there was hardly a piece left whole—I returned to the station and read the charge to the prisoner—he said "Yea, I did it but I am very sorry for it, I never thought it would come to this; I never meant to kill her, she should have kept her hand out of my pocket"—the prisoner was wearing very heavy boots, they had been recently cleaned, I thought oiled—I found smears of blood on the thighs of his trousers and also lower down, near the bottom—these are them (produced)—I took them from him and obtained others for him—he made other remarks to the effect that he was very sorry.
Cross-examined. I did not see a flannel petticoat and a pair of stockings, which he had bought for her in the house—I did not hear him tell Frances Ackhort to take them and wear them, but on the second examination I heard him speak to her about them, and she admitted that she had got them.
JOSEPH ROGERS , M. R. C. S. I live at 33, Dean Street—on 20th September, about 8.30 I was called to 13, Princess Road, and found the body of a female lying on the bed—she had been dead three or four hours, and possibly longer—the body was rigid and quite cold—I found a wound an inch long on the right side of the top of the head, and there were marks of blows on the head, it appeared to me an indefinite number—hardly any blood had flowed from the wound—there was a bruise on the left side of the forehead, a bruise on the centre of the forehead, and a smaller bruise on the top of the right side of the forehead, a severe bruise on the left shoulder, several marks on the left upper and fore arm, and the hand was blackened to the ends of the fingers from effused blood—there were nine or ten bruises and abrasions on the back, as if the blow which made the bruise had been rough enough to rub the skin off—an abrasion breaks the scarf skin or cuticle—there was a severe bruise on the left hip, and over the right knee-cap were three or four scratches, and others just above the hip on the left side—there were marks of injuries, more or less developed, over the whole of the body—I received the Coroner's order, and on the Monday made a post-mortem examination—on the removal of the scalp there was considerable effusion of blood into the tissues over the skull, over the whole front, side and back, and left half of the skull, which was unusually thick,
and it was not fractured—the membranes covering the brain were very much congested, the middle membrane or arachnoids was milky, which proved that she had been of intemperate habits—the effusion of blood on the left half of the skull, was connected with the external bruise over that part—the brain generally was much congested, and the lateral ventricle contained about two ounces of fluid blood, which had gravitated to the base of the skull, I traced it up to the left lateral ventricle—on opening the chest the left pleural cavity contained about a pint of blood—it is called a cavity but it is filled by the lung—there, were old adhesions, showing that she had had pre-existing disease—I found the sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, and eleventh. ribs broken, and the eighth and eleventh were broken in two places—a splinter from the fractured sixth rib had penetrated the lungs, corresponding to which was an external bruise—that was the cause of the effusion of blood into the cavity—there was also an external injury immediately over the double fracture of the eighth and eleventh ribs, one of which had taken place close up to the spine—there was a circumscribed bruise on the front surface of the stomach', which was full of a dark substance composed of fluids and solids—the heart was degenerated from fatty infiltration, and the liver was much enlarged—the other organs were natural—the immediate cause of death was the effusion of blood into the brain, which arose from the blow on the head—I take it that the last blow was given a very short space of time before death, in consequence of there being no hemorrhage—bleeding ceases at death—I do not think that could have been caused by a kick, I think it took place when she was thrown on to the staircase; it is consistent with it—the blow which caused death must have been almost immediate I do not think it could have been given several hours before—the other bruises were caused by direct violence, and I think they must have been done before death; if a man has got a dead body before him he cannot produce bruises such as I saw, it must be done before death—the other injuries were done a very short time before death, because the injury to the lung would have let out a large quantity of blood, which would have filled the whole pleural cavity if life had not failed—the blood I saw on the lung was not sufficient to cause death; a person might survive for days, and even might recover, because a person can live with one lung.
Cross-examined. I have no doubt that the immediate cause of death was the injury to the head—that injury might have been caused by anything—if the blow was struck between 7 and 8 o'clock it would not have been possible for her to have lived several hours—I am perfectly certain that she could not have walked and talked after the infusion of blood into the brain—that follows as a matter of course—the infusion does not follow immediately upon the injury—it is possible that a considerable interval may have elapsed between the blow and the effusion taking place—almost all things are possible in medicine—I do not think the injury to the top of the head was the result of a kick—to my mind the cause I give preference to was the throwing on the stairs—there must have been a projecting point to cause a clean incised wound—if a man was violently pursuing a woman and she fell on the stairs, she would be more likely to have a severe wound than if she fell from her own weight only—the external evidence of the bruises, the discolouration, had almost disappeared at the time I made the post-mortem—I do not know that the bruises I saw on Sunday morning were the result of recent blows—in a bruise you may identify the time it has existed
by the change of colour at the circumference—nearly all the braises exhibited the same appearance—I said before the Magistrate "Nearly all the bruises were consistent with her falling about," and I say that now, with the exception of the fractured ribs—putting aside the fractured ribs, the appearances on her body were consistent with her falling about—the ribs were not all broken at one time, there were at least four or five different impacts—it is a most unusual thing to break the eighth and eleventh ribs in two places; it requires perfectly direct violence, and over the eighth and eleventh ribs there were external appearances—I did not identify the other fractures and abrasions in the same way as I did the case of the eighth and eleventh ribs, because they attracted my attention in a professional point of view—from the appearance of the liver, and the milky appearance of the brain, I am of opinion that she was given to drinking, and people are nearly always subject to outbursts of violent temper when they have that milky condition of the membranes of the brain.
Re-examined. The wound at the top of the head could have existed only a very few seconds without effusion of blood; it certainly could not have existed several hours—before the effusion of blood she might have become senseless from the concussion; the blow would cause insensibility, and then the effusion would take place—I believe the insensibility commenced directly after the blow—she would not bo able to walk and talk after the blow.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am very sorry to my heart. I never thought the occurrence would take place. If I was not married to her there was no better husband to her than I was. Since I have had my inside taken out at the hospital I am like a lunatic, if I take anything to drink."
COURT to Dr. Rogers. Q. Did you examine the prisoner to see what he could be alluding to in that statement about having his inside taken out? A. No; but I noticed that he was extremely agitated—I did not make any medical examination in reference to that statement.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM MCCROSSLAND . I live at 10, Tower Street, Seven Dials—I knew the deceased and her sister—I do not know the woman who is a cripple, but I should know her if I saw her again—I saw the deceased on Saturday evening, 19th September, between 5 and 6 o'clock in Earl Street, very drunk, and I saw a woman with a crutch following her—the deceased went some distance, down to the Five Dials, what they call the Duke of New-castle public-house, where the woman with the crutch came up to her—I Was about two dozen yards off then—the deceased stopped at the egg shop facing the Duke of Newcastle, at the corner of Dudley Street, and the woman with the crutch came up and said "You stand," using a very bad expression, and she up with her crutch and struck her on the top of her head; I cannot say whether to the left or the right—she only struck her once—she went right down, and then they had a squabble on the ground, and a lot of women went and separated them—the woman with the crutch was drunk, but she did not fall—the deceased had a kind of bundle under her arm, but I do not know what it contained.
Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. This was on the 20th of last month; it was Saturday—I will not be positive that it was the 20th—I first spoke to a man named White about it about ten days ago—I believe he is here—I knew that the prisoner was charged at the Police Court, and that Mrs.
Ford was the person who was struck—I did not go to the Police Court to tell them, because I was not sent for—Ford did not lay stunned by the blow, the two of them went into grips on the ground, and Ford was picked up by a woman; she was not senseless—she was not half a minute on the ground; they grabbed one another, and then she. got up and walked towards Grafton Street.
Re-examined. Mr. White is a builder for whom the prisoner has worked for many years.
EDWARD HAWKINS . I live at 7, Tower Street—on Saturday, 19th September, between 5 and C o'clock, I was in Little Earl Street, and saw a woman there with a crutch, who deliberately hit another woman on the head with the mallet end of her crutch, saying "Take that you beast"—I knew her before, and her sister, but I do not know their names—they both fell together, and she sat on the ground without her crutch—they were not haying hold of one another when they fell; the one with the crutch fell by the force of the blow—the drunkest fell uppermost; she was the one with out the crutch—they did nothing when they fell; they lay like a couple of logs for a minute or two—I really mean that—they did not struggle on the ground, because the post was between them—I left my barrow and picked up the one with the crutch—she said "Go away from me you b——y so and so," mentioning the name I go by—a woman picked up the other one—I do not know whether she is here.'
COURT. Q. You did not see Ford go there? A. No, because the police will not let us stand there, we are obliged to run before the policeman comes; there was no policeman there, but I was fined 12s. and costs last week for standing there—Ford did not say a word after she was knocked! down, she was insensible; she lay down like this—a mob came round, I did not follow the mob, I only saw Ford after she was picked up, and she went into the middle of Moor Street with a woman who I don't know, that was after I had picked up the other woman—Ford was picked up by a woman who I do not know, she walked away with her into Moo Street, and that was the last I saw of her.
JOHN ALFRED PUTNAM . I live at Lloyd's Court, Crown Street, Soho—on Saturday 19th September, between 5 and 6 o'clock, I saw a row in Earl Street, and saw a woman with a crutch knock the deceased down with the big end of her crutch, it struck her on the right side of head or on her right shoulder, I don't know which, and she staggered and fell—I knew Ford, she was a very drunken woman and very excitable, often fighting with her own sister.
Cross-examined. The woman with the crutch walked away as soon as she struck the blow and then came back again—she did not tumble, nor did they squabble on the ground or anything of that sort—Ford fell on her back and got up again, but not directly—somebody helped her up and she walked to the corner of Earl Street and Dudley Street, and the one with the crutch followed her again, and she ran away and said that she would not fight any more.
GERMAN BATHURST WORTH . I am landlord of the Cock, Grafton Street, Soho—I have known the prisoner for 12 years—he has always borne the character of a humane and kindly disposed man—I saw him and Ford in ray house on Saturday, 19th September—I believe they both left at 10.15—I particularly noticed the prisoner because he was going to another house to a friendly meeting to get up subscriptions. for the benefit of a friend
—I think Ford was drunk, but I did not take particular notice of her then—she was with a woman or two—I thought she did not appear so drunk as I have seen her.
By THE COURT. I am from 80 to 100 yards from Great Earl Street—I noticed nothing the matter with her then, but I did not take particular notice of her—she was not singing songs that I heard.
Other witnesses deposed to the prisoner's good character and to the drunken habits of the deceased.
GUILTY of Manslaughter— Penal Servitude for Life.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, October 28th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
456. JOHN KIMPTON (48), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a horse cloth the property of Arthur John Garnet, having been before convicted in July 1866, when he was sentenced to ten years' penal servitude**— Six Months' Imprisonment to commence at the termination of the former sentence.
457. ALFRED GUNTHORPE (39) [Pleaded guilty: see original trail image] , to two indictments for forging an endorsement on an order for the payment of 23l. 10s. 2d., and to embezzling the same amount received on account of Thomas Wix Phillips and another, his masters who recommended him to mercy— Six Months' Imprisonment.
458. ALBERT OLIVER (22) [Pleaded guilty: see original trail image] , to stealing a dressing case and five brushes and other goods, the property of Robert Alexander Rooney, his master, who recommended him to mercy.— Two Months' Imprisonment.
MR. MOODY for the Prosecution offered no evidence— NOT GUILTY .
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN SCARLETT (City Policeman 915). On the morning of 9th October, about 4.50, I was in Mitre Street and saw the prosecutor and the prisoner turn down Mitre Square—the prisoner had hold of the prosecutor's arm—they separated and the prosecutor went out of the square as though he was in a hurry—he afterwards spoke to me and I went after the prisoner with him—he said to her "You have stolen my watch"—she said she had not—I asked her where it was and she said "I will give it to you, I did not steal it"—she gave it me out of her stocking—she said she picked it up and put it there for safety and did not steal it—the prosecutor identified it—he was sober.
THOMAS HOWARD . I am a merchant's clerk—about 4.50 a.m. on 9th October I was in Mitre Street—the. prisoner followed me, put her arm under mine and dragged me into the square—she asked me to give her something for refreshment—I was in a hurry and to get her away I gave her a few coppers—I left her and had not gone twenty steps when I found my guard hanging loose—I told the policeman and we both went after her and she took the watch from her stocking—she said she did not steal it she put it there for safety.
The prisoner in her defence stated that she found the watch on her dress after the prosecutor had left her, and put it in her stocking and went to look after the prosecutor and that the policeman came up and took her.
She also PLEADED GUILTY** to having been before convicted in July, 1873— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. THORNE COLE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. W. SLEIGH the Defence.
ROBERT GOULD . I am a tailor at 5, Cross Court—these scissors (produced) I believe belong to the witness McCarthy—I have seen some coats which were produced at the Police Court and which I identified as my property—I had seen them on Friday, 18th September—I locked the door and bolted it at 10.30 that evening and the property was Tall safe then—the shutters were up and all was secure—about 4.30 the next morning,. I received information and went to Cross Court to my workshops, and found a hole had been cut in the partition inside the house large enough to admit a man—the door of the passage into the shop was opened and the lock had been forced—the back window of the workshop and the shutters were open they had been closed the night before.
Cross-examined. These are ordinary tailor's scissors.
WILLIAM MAY (Policeman G 126). I was on duty on 18th September in "West Street, about five yards from Mr. Gould's door—about three o'clock in the morning I saw the prisoner come out of the side door of 5, Cross Court—I saw another man inside the window as I passed—I gave an alarm and went after the prisoner as he was making off—I brought him back—I said "You have just come out of No. 5, Cross Court, and you will have to go back with me till I see whether it is all right"—I took him back to the house and there I found a quantity of coats; trousers, and waistcoats in the pas-sage ready for removal laid up loose in the corner—they were afterwards produced at the Police Court and identified by the prosecutor—I took the prisoner to the station and found this pair of scissors in his inside breast pocket—I examined the premises and found a part of the partition inside the house cut away and the lock forced open—an inside door leading from the back shop into the front had been tried and this piece of screwdriver was between the lock and the door, broken off—the screwdriver was on the floor—the back window and the shutters were open, so that anyone could get in that way.
Cross-examined. It was through the open window and shutter that I saw the man inside the house—that was after I saw the prisoner leave—I. have always said that I saw the prisoner come out at the door—there are lamps there; there is one at the. corner of the court—the court is not above 10 or 15 yards long, and there is a lamp at each end—when I took the prisoner he was going away from his home—he lives at No. 3, next door but one to the prosecutor—he is a tailor, but he has had not regular employment lately—I had just stopped at the court and while I was standing there he came out.
CHARLES MCCABTHY . I work for Mr. Gould—I recognize these scissors by the cross keys on them—I. can't say that they are mine—I have Been several scissors with the same mark on them—I missed. a pair similar to these when I went to work on the morning of the 19th September.
Cross-examined. Sometimes I carry my scissors about with me, but not continually—I left them on the boards, I expect—Mr. Gould has got plenty of scissors—I don't know whether they are like these or not, but I have seen plenty like them.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted, in January, 1863— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
ADA MOXON . I am a telegraph clerk, and live at 43, Villa Street, Walworth—on 16th October, about 5.45 p.m., I was on the platform of Ludgate Hill Railway Station waiting for a train—I had been sitting down and had my hand in my pocket to preserve my purse—it was safe then—on the arrival of the train I got up and disengaged my hand from my pocket to open the carriage door—the prisoner pushed roughly by me—I looked round and saw him, and at the same I felt the weight of a hand in my pocket—I put my hand in my pocket and missed my purse directly—the prisoner ran past me and I ran after him as fast as possible—I called out "Stop that man, he has my purse"—I saw him stopped, and a gentleman gave me my purse—it contained 2l. 3s. and my season ticket.
Cross-examined. A good many people were waiting for the train—I don't know that two trains had come in from the City—I did not lose sight of the prisoner for an instant—my purse contained exactly the same when I opened it at the police-station—the people did not get before me when I called out "Stop that man,"They were too much taken by surprise and I was surprised too—I felt flurried certainly—the whole affair was instantaneous.
EDWARD WELTHAM . I am inspector at Ludgate Hill Station—I was on duty on 16th October at 5.45 in the evening on the opposite platform to where the witness was—I saw a train come in from the Viaduct Station and I heard some one call out "Stop that man, he has got my purse"—I ran across the line to the opposite platform, and saw the prisoner running down the platform as fast as he could and the last witness close by his side so that she could have taken hold of his coat at any moment—two gentlemen attempted to stop him, but he got past them, and he was stopped going down the staircase—I saw a gentleman with the purse in his hand and he gave it to the lady.
Cross-examined. There was a great crowd—we frequently have cases of this kind occurring—we have people rushing up to the wrong trains.
JAMES BYFIELD (City Policeman 330). About 5.50 on the evening of October 16th the prisoner was given into my custody—I took him to the station and searched him—I found on him 14s. 3d. and a railway ticket from Ludgate Hill to Borough Road.
He was further charged with having been before convicted.
CHARLES BAKER . I was formerly a City Police constable—I had the prisoner in custody at the May Sessions, 1868, and produce a certificate of his conviction. (Read: "14th May, 1868. John Anderson, convicted on his own confession of stealing a purse and eight keys from the person. Sentence Fifteen Months'.") That refers to the prisoner—I was present.
GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BESLEY, conducted the Prosecution.
MICHAEL HAYDON (City Detective Sergeant). I was intrusted with a warrant to take the prisoner on the 26th June—I did not know of his going to America—I first discovered him in Edinburgh where he had been enlisted
in the Royal Dragoons—I told him I was a police, officer from London and held a warrant for his apprehension on a charge of embezzlement—I produced the warrant—he took it into his hands, read it, returned it and said "That will do, that is quite enough"—I received from the Detective officer of Edinburgh in his presence two of the Bonds out of the five which were named in the warrant—they are two Railway Bonds of 200l. each in the Leigh Valley Railway Company, No. 4,906 and 4,907—the prisoner told me he desired to make a clean breast of the affair and to make every reparation for the wrong he had done his master, that he had deposited one of the bonds with the purser of the steam ship Oceani, when he had returned from New York to Liverpool—I found that was true—it was there as security for 3l. which I paid and got the bond in return—that was No. 4,905—the other two bonds are coming over—he did not tell me what he had done with the 250l.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I should not have been able to discover those bonds without your information—it was entirely owing to that that they were recovered.
HENRY EDWARD OWEN . I am clerk to Messrs. J. S. Morgan & Co., American Brokers, 22, Old Broad Street—on 22nd of June, the prisoner came to our office with a list for 1,000l. scrip on the Lehigh Valley Railway Company, and I delivered to him for his master, five bonds 4,905-6-7-8-9—these jeer three of the five—this is his receipt for them.
GERALD QUIN . I am cashier to Alfred Venables and Company, Bullion dealers, Royal Exchange—I knew Taplin as clerk to Mr. Bell—we buy American coupons—on 22nd of June, the prisoner came to my office and handed me a list relating to various coupons, which he filled up in my presence—the amount altogether was 250l. 10s. 6d.—I gave him for them an open cheque for that amount payable to Mr. Bell or bearer—he asked me to give him an open cheque; he said he wished to divide the amount realised by the coupons among various clients of Mr. Bell—he went away with the cheque—it has been cashed and returned through our bankers.
DANIEL BELL . I am a Stock Broker at Adam's Court, Old Broad Street—the prisoner has been in my service seven years, since he was quite a boy—Mr. Hazel is my principal clerk—in June last he was ill and unable to come out and he is ill now—he was absent on 22nd of June—I had been absent on Saturday the 20th, but I was there on the 22nd—the prisoner was there also—he did not tell me he had collected the scrip nor the cheque—he did not make his appearance on the 23rd—his mother came to inquire about him and that gave me the idea that something was wrong and I afterwards found that he had taken the cheque for 250l. and the five bonds—the scrip for the five bonds was handed to me by Mr. Hazel, and in due course I expected them back.
Cross-examined. The coupons were given to you to leave at the different merchants and you applied them to your own use instead of doing with them as you were instructed.
Prisoner. Upon that ground the cheque could not belong to you as it was the proceeds of what I had already taken.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. I wish to say that on the week before I lost a valuable transfer and it preyed upon my mind. I ought to have confessed, instead of which I took those things—I have no defence to make.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
STONE PLEADED GUILTY —Recommended to mercy— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. W. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SIMS defended Riley.
JOHN STONE . I am a carman employed at 4 1/2, Duke Street, Aldgate—the prisoner Stone is my uncle—in consequence of what he told me at 11 o'clock on the morning of 1st October, I took thirty sacks to the Parcels Delivery Office—this direction was on them "H. Riley, 1, Water Street, White friars"—that is my uncle's writing—they were sent from the prosecutor's warehouse in Black Horse Yard, Aldgate.
CHARLES JAMES BLOSSIE . I am manager to Messrs. Henry and Co., sack manufacturers, at 47, Mark Lane, and they have a warehouse in Black Horse Yard—the sacks produced are my employers' property—Stone has been our foreman about seventeen or eighteen years—about 11.30 a.m., on 1st October I received some information about the sacks and went with Detective Child to 1, Water Street, White friars—the door was opened by a woman—a Parcels Delivery van came up about that time and delivered a bundle of thirty sacks—the woman paid the carriage—I went into the passage with Child—he had a communication with the woman and then he went upstairs—I remained in the passage with the goods—Riley was brought down and Child said "Where did you get the sacks from?"—he said "I bought them of Stone for 9d. each"—I said "That is only half their value, you know, they are worth 18d. "—he made some reply, but I did not understand what he said, he mumbled something—I had known him before—he had been to our ware-house as a customer four or five years ago—there was a balance due from him.
Cross-examined. I did not know that he was a watchman in the Temple—I know it now—I have heard that he has been to sea, but I did not know it—I know nothing whatever of his antecedents—the sacks were tied round with a cord, top and bottom, just as they are now—I did not open the package—I did not see the sacks before they left the warehouse, at least I can't say that I saw those particular thirty—I know nothing against the man
ROBERT CHILD (City Detective). I went on 1st October with the last witness to 1, Water Street, White friars—I saw some sacks delivered at that door—the door was opened by a female who paid the carriage—I followed her upstairs and found Riley on the first floor front room—the sacks were then in the passage and I had cut off the address—I said to Riley "I am a police officer and want to speak to you downstairs 'he came down and I pointed to the bundle of sacks—I said "That bundle of sacks has been stolen and sent to you, can you give any explanation about them?"—he said "I bought them one day last week of Mr. Stone, I gave him 9d. each for them"—Mr. Blossie said "Why, that is only half their value, they are worth 18d. each"—he said something, but I could not hear what it was—I told him I should have to take him into custody and I told him the charge—he said "I did not know they were stolen, I always understood from Mr. Stone that he
got them from a friend"—Riley was a watchman in the Temple—I believe he has a badge—I have known nothing against his character up to this time—he does not carry on any business—he only occupies one room in that house.
Witness for the Defence.
JOHN RILEY . I am the prisoner's elder brother—he is a Temple porter and wears the silver badge of the Temple on his arm—he has been a seaman thirteen years in Her Majesty's Service, and since then he has been a porter in the Temple—I know nothing about his dealing in sacks—I am private watchman to Messrs. Goslings.
RILEY NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, October 28th, 1874.
468. WALTER PUT (38) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences 6l. 10s., the moneys of the Liverpool Victoria Friendly Society, with intent to defraud also to forging and uttering a certificate for the payment of 6l. 10s., with intent to defraud.
He was recommended to mercy, and received a good character Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
469. TIMOTHY CONNOR (33) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to feloniously wounding Catherine Sweeney and Julia Dempsey, with intent to do them grievous bodily harm— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER the Defence.
ELLEN CLOUGH . I am the wife of James Clough, a gardener, living at 4 Park Hurst Place, Chiswick—the prisoner is my niece—I do not know what she was doing before the 8th of August—some time at the end of August she came to my house and asked me to take her in—she told me that she was not well, and asked if I would be kind enough to allow her to stop—I said "Yes"—she had no means when she came to me, so far as I knew—she told me she had no means, but was proud for me to take her in—I had two boxes in my room—there was a pocket-book in one with twenty-two sovereigns in it; that box was locked—I kept the key—I and my husband went to work every day—we left the prisoner to take care of the house—I went out at 2.15 on Thursday, 8th October—I know the money was safe on Sunday morning, and nobody entered my house but the prisoner—I counted the money over on the Sunday—I did not look at it at all between Sunday and Thursday—I had no suspicion; I trusted her—she told us the very day she left my place that she would be back between 8 and 9 o'clock—I told her not to make it so late as 9 o'clock, because myself and my husband were not very well, and would not sit up so late—she told me she was going out—at 6.15 we came home—I expected her about 8 o'clock; she did not come—I missed my money
about 9 o'clock—the box was unlocked—I had the key with me—I never left it out of my own possession—I did not give it even to my husband—she had no meddling whatever with my key.
Cross-examined. My husband knew I had this money but I did not tell him I had 22l. exactly—I kept it to myself—I told him I had 20l.—I have been twenty-six years with my husband working as market gardeners and saved that money truly and honestly for our old days—I never put it put to interest at all because I thought it was safer with myself—I did not employ a woman in the house—I kept the key myself—the prisoner did lot come to me to be confined—she told me she had a bad kidney—I did not see that she had—I do not know that she is hourly expecting to be confined—I did not see the state she was in and did not ask her how long she would be before she had a child; I will swear that—she told me she was disabled with a bad kidney until a week or two before she left me—she was always so thick, a little bundle, I could not believe it—I did not observe "that little bundle in front"—I could not think it—I and she did not talk about her being in that state—she never owned it Until a week or two before she left my place—I did not bring two Irish women in to assist at the birth—not one—no Irishwoman but myself was in the house—except while the prisoner was there I lighted the fire and did everything—I did not employ any servant, or any person to do household affairs—I had not much business except for myself and my husband—my husband is working for market gardeners—he has a little bit of garden from the door—about enough, to grow a quarter of a sack of potatoes—that is all he has got—I first began to lay up this money when I came to London to make shirts—I used to sit on the stairs to finish my work from night until morning to take it in, and when I came home I would do the same until 12 or 1 o'clock—between times I go out into the country where the hops grow and used to bring home a pound, and between one thing and another and the help of my husband I saved my money—my husband did not ask me for half the pound when I came back from hop-picking—he would have some saved—his money is not in a stocking—the prisoner took it—I never told anybody about having this money—I kept it close to myself—I never told a soul about it—I and my husband slept in one room together—the prisoner slept in the same room with us—I kept this money in my box—I had two boxes in the room, a large box that the prisoner took, and another that I had in the room and a small box that is not worth speaking of—I did. not ask her while there to buy me some curtains, never—I did not know while she was with me that she received 1l. from London from the putative father; I will swear that—I do not know that since she has been taken up her box has been searched and letters found there—my husband and the policeman looked over the box—the way I found her out when she left was that she hired a cab and brought it up to my place—I and my husband did not know the cabman who drove her before he found out what his name was—I was not present when she was found or soon after—I had no money to go with my husband; my husband followed himself—when I saw her afterwards she said "I am innocent and you know I am innocent"—I can swear I had twenty sovereigns and four half sovereigns—I never marked a sovereign—I could not tell you whether I had an Australian sovereign amongst any of them—I do not know what an Australian sovereign is—I cannot say whether I had one with George and the Dragon or the Arms of England—I am uo scholar and did not
take notice—they may be on—my husband did see this money—he did not reckon it over and over—he knew I had it in my box—I cannot say when I showed him the money before the prisoner was taken up.
Re-examined. The prisoner paid nothing at all for coming to my house.
JAMES CLOOGH . I am the husband of the last witness—when the prisoner was at my house I did not know that my wife had 22l., but I knew she had some money and I knew where it was—my niece did not say anything to me about her means, but she told my wife that she was poor and destitute when she came to us—she told me that she was in service with a man of the name of Dr. Roon or Lawn, down near Stratford before she came to my house—something was said about an empty house—I could' not tell what her wages were at the other house.
Cross-examined. I did not say that she had a little money—I know my' wife had money—had not she and me earned it together—I knew she had because it was & my box—I saw it there not long before—I left it to my wife—I found my niece, through the cabman after she' went away—he "was perfectly well known in the place and told me at once where the girl went—I was walking with a policeman when I seized her and took her into custody—she said she was perfectly innocent, she did say I can give you' a good account how I get the money"—she gave the inspector the key and he said" Is this ail you have got, 18l. 3s. 3d"—she said "No I have got 2l. more and a few more shillings"—she said that rather than say she was guilty she would go through all the law of England because' she knew she was innocent—I told her at the Police Court that I would let her off that very "minute if she would give me my money, and she would not, she stuck to it '
ROBERT LAKE (Policeman K 508). On Friday, the 9th October, the last witness communicated with me, and in consequence of what he said I apprehended the prisoner at Maryland Grove, Stratford—I told her the charge—she said she knew she was innocent, she "knew nothing of it, and could account for the money in her box—I took her to the station, and went to the Great Eastern Railway Station and found a box—I searched it at the West Ham Station, and found in it sixteen sovereigns, wrapped up in a piece of white linen at the bottom-of the box—I asked her if she had any more money, or had no more—she produced a purse-with a sovereign two "half-sovereigns, and three florins—when I apprehended her there was with her a person living at 15, Francis Street, Maryland Point, where she was staying—before the prisoner went to Clough's house she had been staying with one and another—she had been living at an empty house of my own knowledge—I have known her housekeeping—I have known her two years—one place she was at before August was a "doctor's in Leman Street, White chapel, but the house she was minding was in Hindermost Road, Forest Road, Stratford."
Cross-examined. She did not say that she had 15s. or 18s. a week for that, she did not tell me what she had; 1l. knew what she had—she bad half-a-crown a week and board and lodging—she said she had received a certain sum of money from some gentleman some time ago—I searched her box—I did not discover there three letters and see by them that she had received money, there was nothing there to denote anything of the kind; but she said she was perfectly innocent and could account for what she had, and notwithstanding all the law of England she knew she was innocent, and never would plead guiltys—she told her uncle so at the station.
GUILTY . Recommended to mercy on, account of her state.
Prisoner. If you put the case off to next Session I will be able to bring the gentleman forward that gave me the money, and I will be able to prove that I received 14s. a month for nearly six years— Judgement respited.
471. FRANK MORRIS (16), Was indicted for unlawfully taking Maria Nuziato Meo, a girl under the age of sixteen years, out of the possession and against the will of her father. Second Count—Out of the possession of Gaetano Meo, a person having the lawful care and charge of her.
MR. WHITELEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
GAETANO MEO . I have a sister named Maria Nuziato Meo—on, the 29th May last she was on a visit to me at 24, Portland Road, West Kensington, where I have got nay wife—on the evening of the 30th I sent her on an errand and she did not return—I had an address given to me by my father and I wrote to Glasgow—I found her there, living with the prisoner as his wife—when I saw the prisoner he turned round and said "How do you do Mr. Meo"—I was a little cross with him and gave a little scold about taking my sister away, and asked him what was the matter; marrying, or what was it?—he said "I have done no harm to her"—my sister came in and the prisoner left me there with my sister, and went to his work—I saw them married in Glasgow—it was not with my sanction that my sister went away with the prisoner—it was against my wishes—I have asked him since he came back from Glasgow to do something for her, since I have seen him in London and he has repudiated the marriage.
Cross-examined. I kept a beer-shop—my sister used to serve there—the prisoner used to come there—the beer-shop did not pay and I gave it up.
He-examined. My sister left the beer-shop to go to my other house, where she came to visit me.
ROCCO MEO (through an Interpreter). I am the father of Maria Nuziato Meo—she will be sixteen years of age on the 20th December next—at the time of her marrying the prisoner I did not know him—I did not know that he was paying attention to her.
JAMES HEWISH . I know the prisoner—I am a friend of his—I saw him at a Music Hall in Hackney with Maria Meo on the 30th May—they were together there—I accompanied them part of the way to the girl's home—I left them together—three nights after that I saw them again—I saw them during the week at Belvedere Crescent; they were living together as man and wife—they started for Glasgow on the 6th June, and I saw them thereon the 10th—I suggested to the prisoner that he should marry her.
Cross-examined. I used to go to this public-house—the girl, on several occasions, gave me beer and cigars to fetch the prisoner to come and see her.
MR. WILLIAMS submitted there was no proof of the taking out of the custody of the father, and quoted the following authority from Archbolds Pleadings and Evidence in Criminal Cases: "If the girl leaves her father without any persuasion, inducement, or blandishment held out to her by the defendant, so that she has got fairly away from home, and then goes to him, although it may be his moral duty to return her to her father's custody, yet his not doing so is no infringement of this statute." MR. COMMISSIONER KERR. having consulted Mr. Justice Lush, held that there was evidence to go to the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
JOHN PINNEY . I am a shoemaker carrying on business at 25, King Street, Tower Hill—about two years ago the prisoner called upon me to solicit work—he said where he was in the habit of working—I made the necessary inquiries and found he was working at Mr. Swan's—I gave him the material for working up into gentleman's boots, including with it the wooden last—he was to return the material made up the second day after I gave it to him—he did not return them to me—I called on him, and found that a few hours after obtaining this stuff from me he left the premises—I have not seen him from that time up to the 22nd of last month when Mr. Swan sent for me—I went and found him there, and gave-him in charge—I went to the station with him; he there admitted it, and offered to compromise it.
JAMES PBAGNALL (City Policeman 916). On 22nd September the prosecutor gave the prisoner into my charge for not returning the materials—he made no answer, but on the way to the station he said "What aim charged with?"—I explained the case to him—ho said "They will have to: prove that"—at the station he suggested compromising it.
Prisoner. I did not steal it—I got the leather and lasts' to work up into a pair of boots—I unfortunately got a drop of drink, and laid the bag down by the side of me, and do not know what became of it—I came into London to compromise the affair with Mr. Pinney—I went into Mr. Swan's with the full intention of making it right with Mr. Pinney by going to work," and I was out of London previous to. this-Swan's is at. Church Row or" Church. Passage, at the back of Aldgate Church—I went in and Mr. Swan sent the Mr. Pinney.
GUILTY — Two Months' Imprisonment
473. JOHN GREEN (42), JAMES RENNIE (28), and ALFRED SMITH (37) , Burglariously breaking and entering the. dwelling-house: of; Chsrles Dixheimer, and stealing therein 251 yards of. velvet, and other articles his property.
MR. GRAIN conductded the. Prosecution; and MR. MOODY defended smith
CHARLES BUTCHER (Detective Officer C). On the morning of 3rd October I was opposite 4, Buckingham Street; about 6.20 and I saw the three prisoners and two other men not in custody standing opposite—they had a truck with a large wine cask on it—they pulled the truck up to the door of 4, Buckingham Street, look the barrel off and took it in to No. 4—I'then left in a cab and fetched Shrives, Dawson and Beachey, three detectives—I returned and watched the house till about 10 o'clock when I saw Green and Rennie leave the house with the wife of the prisoner Smith (I was not present when they were married, but I saw the certificate in the room)—they went to a public-house remained there a short time and came out and separated—Green came back shortly afterwards with a rope similar to this produced and went into No. 4—shortly after that a little boy drove up to the door in a cab—Green and Rennie brought down the box produced and placed it on the roof of the cab, tied up with a rope and they drove off through Fitzroy Square—we followed and came up with them at the top of Torrington Square—that is not half a mile from Charlotte Square where the. prosecutor
lives about 7 to 8 minutes walk—I said to Green—"Well Jack, what have you got here?"—he made no reply—I then said to Rennie "Is it yours?"—he said "No, it is not miue"—I said "You are with him"—he said "Yes, and I was going to take him to Euston Square Station, and was to have a drop of beer for my trouble"—I got in the cab with them, put hand-cuffs on them, and drove them to Marlborough Mews Station in the same cab—from what the cabman told us I sent Shrives and Dawson to Red Lion Street, Holborn—they brought Smith back—I then west to 4, Buckingham Street where Smith lives, and searched, and found a hat, and I think 54 receipt stamps, some postage stamps, a cigar holder, a pair of spectacles and a case—I opened the box previous to that and found in it 250 yards, of velvet—I have measured it since—the box was corded up in this usual way.
Cross-examined by Green. I went to Marlborough Mews police station for assistance—I returned about 8 o'clock or a little before—I was back some time before the other officers because they had to get up and get ready—I was exactly 18 minutes away—I left the moment you went in with the things—I went away at 6.15—it would be about 6.45 when I got back—from 6.45 to 10 o'clock, I went round two or three times out of sight of the house—if anybody else had brought those things they might have brought them without my seeing them—I was away certainly—the other detectives were away—it must have been 8 o'clock I should think when I first saw them there—Dawson I think was there first—I would not be sure whether Shrives, or Beachey followed him—I think I left word for them to come to me at the Green Man, Euston Road, close by Buckingham Street, at all events that is where they found me—when I, was at the Green Man I could not be watching 4, Buckingham Street—it is perfectly daylight at 6 o'clock in the morning—I recognised you because I knew you so well—I know you all very well—I believed you were dressed the same then as now, you had a dark coat on; the one that is now in the box—it belonged to the prosecutor and was taken off you at the station—I believe you had on the coat you are now wearing when I saw you at 6 o'clock in the morning, or one similar; an overcoat—I took particular notice of your coat—it was you; I was looking at your face and your features—from Cleveland Street, where I was, I could see 4, Buckingham Street as well was I can see you from where I am standing—I admit there is a slight bend in the street.
Cross-examined by Rennic The Green Man is about 300 yards off and about the same distance to the Coliseum—I do not know that two police constables are stationed there day and night—there is a fire escape there—there were other men there—at 6.20 all on night duty were gone off.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. The point where I stood in Cleveland Street is about 100 yards from Buckingham Street—Dawson was the first constable who came to my assistance, and he came about 8 o'clock I should think—I had arranged to meet him at the Green Man and went away there to meet him—from the Green Man I could see nothing of Buckingham Street—it was not a box but a cask that I saw taken to the house—the cask has been identified—I saw the three prisoners and two others going up to 4, Buckingham Street, passing along the street with the truck—they were in motion at the time I saw them—they were not long trundling the cask into the house—directly the cask went in they went in too, therefore it was just while they were hurrying that I saw the prisoners.
Re-examined. I have no possible doubt about the identity of the three men I saw go into the house, I have known them for years—I did not notice the coat that has been identified on the man when I was watching the prisoners at 6.20—it was on him when I took him to the station—he never went out of my sight from the time I saw him in the cab—he was wearing it then.
PHILIP SHRIVES (Detective Officer.) I "was telegraphed for at about 10.30—I saw a cab drive up to 4, Buckingham Street—shortly after that I saw Rennic and Green bring out the box (produced) and place it on the top of a cab which drove away—I called another cab and we got in and followed, I, Dawaon, Butcher, and Beachey, and at Torrington Place we came up with them—I went in front and stopped the horse, and Butcher went on one side, the cab and Dawson on the other—the a I went from the horse's head and we got into the cab and put the handcuffs on Beanie and Green—we "Told them we should take them to the station for having that box in their possession—Beanie said he was simply going to the station with the other man to help him take the box—we took them to Marlborough Street, and From there, from what the cabman told me, we went to Bed Lion Street and saw Smith standing at the corner of Bedford Street and Red Lion Street against the public-house—that was about 11 o'clock—I said "Alf, I want you"—he said "Very well," add walked along with me and said "What is this for?" I said "It is for being concerned with Jack Green and another having a lot of things in their possession that have been found at your place"—he said" I know nothing about it"—I said "Which you know about"—he said "I do not know about it"—I said "I think you do"—he said "Very well, you say so"—I took him to Marlborough Street—some time after that I went to the prosecutor's place and I found an entry had been made by a back window in Tottenham Mews into the back workshop—I won't into the house—they went through there, down the workshops, through the back yard, and through a small office window into the shop—I examined the first floor and found an attempt had been made there to enter by the window—I found some marks on the window—a knife was handed to me by the prosecutor which corresponded with those marks—no doubt it was used to push the catch back.
Cross-examined by Green. I was at 4, Buckingham Street soon after 8 o'clock—I was not in sight of the house the whole time, I Was in a public-house part of the time—I was in Riche's when you came in at the corner of Buckingham Street and Cleveland Street—I should think that was about 10 o'clock—I came by myself—Butcher was there before me—I think Dawson was there, I won't be sure—I saw Dawaon and Butcher afterwards at a public-house—I saw Batcher first—Beachey was not there, I think, When I arrived—I do not know who it was with Smith, there was someone talking with him—I was told to go and apprehend Smith in consequence of what the cabman told Butcher—the box (produced) is the one that Was on top of the cab, it has never been out of our possession.
Cross-examined by Rennie. I Can see Smith's house from Cleveland Street.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. This is altogether out of the ground belonging to my division—there is not a station-house in Portland Road—Albany Street is not in that district—there is no station or place where police constables live nearer to Buckingham Street than Marlborough Mews—George Street would be the proper station—if we had taken them to
George Street we should have had to take them to Marlborough Street afterwards—when Butcher got to Marlborough Street there would be no more than one reserve man on duty—Smith may have said he had not been at home for two nights—I said to the Magistrate that he might have said so, but I did not hear him say so.
HENRY DAWSON (Defective Officer). I was with the two last witnesses on 3rd October, in Cleveland Street, Fitzroy Square—I saw a four-wheeled cab come out of Buckingham Street—we got into a cab and followed it to Torrington Place—we then got out and stopped this other cab; this box was on top of it—it has been in our possession ever since—I saw the coat that is in that box taken off Green's back—I afterwards went to 4, Buckingham Street; saw Butcher, and found the gloves, cigar-tube, and spectacles, hat, and postage and receipt stamps behind the clock—I afterwards went with Shrives and the cabman to Red Lion Street, Holborn—Smith was standing leaning on a post speaking to another man.
Cross-examined by Green. The first time I arrived in Buckingham Street was shortly after 8 o'clock—I lost sight of the house for a considerable time—anybody else might have taken those goods into that house without your taking them in.
Cross-examined by Rennie. I saw you for the first time about 10 o'clock, or a little before—you came up Cleveland Street and turned round the corner to the left, towards Smith's house.
WILLIAM CARTER . I am a cab driver—on Saturday morning, 3rd October, about 10 o'clock or 10.15,1 was fetched from the rank at Portland Road Station by a child—I went to 4, Buckingham Street through Bolsover Street—two men put this box (produced) on top of the cab, and I was ordered to Vezez's, Red Lion Street, Holborn—I drove in that direction, and got as far as Torrington Place when I was stopped by the detectives—they went in my cab to Marlborough Mews—I told them where I was ordered to—I went back to Red Lion Street and fetched another man—that looks like the one (pointing to one. of the prisoners), I am not quite positive—I brought him back to Marlborough Mews police-station.
CHARLES DIXHEIMER . I live at 87, Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square, and am a dealer in veneer and a cabinet maker—in the course of my trade I use velvet—on the night of the 2nd October, I closed at 11.30—I was in the shop—I turned the gas out and went to bed—I got up in the morning and went down in the yard about 6.20—we have timber there—I found the door open from the shop—it was closed at 11.30 the night before—I found the drawer of the desk empty; that was closed the night before—I went further on and saw a desk and papers pulled all about—the iron safe was pulled out of its place and I missed some velvet of different colours—this is it, and this coat (produced) is mine—it was safe the night before—these spectacles and cigar-holder were in the pocket—this hat is mine—a lot of postage and receipt stamps were missing from the desk—the entry was made from the Mews—that was safe the night before—my wife found this knife in my presence, and gave it me—I have seen the cask that is outside—we had several casks lying in the Mews—I won't swear to it, but I believe it is my cask—I have similar casks now in the Mews—there were others the same morning.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. All this property was stolen from the front shop, where we keep our business—that shop is not separated from the house by a yard—it is the ground floor and we live upstairs.
Green's Defence. I do not admit burglary, but I admit being in possession of the goods. I went there to shift them from Smith's premises. He had not been home for two nights and had had a quarrel with his wife; they had been taken there by a man who was in his company, and if these constables had done their duty and apprehenhed him it would have told a different tale altogether. The coat I have on now was actually in pledge at Mr. Attenborough's, I do not know whether the clerk could produce the book", and I put it on at the Hercules Pillars, Soho, at 9 o'clock in the day, and if these men were there they admit leaving the house, and that gives them an opportunity of saying I was back. I was in the house and went and drank as they say, I do not deny any of those facts; and I bought the rope as they said, and came out and brought the box and went to take it away.
Rennie's Defence. I did not leave home till 9.30, my sister lives at 4, Buckingham Street; that is how I came to be there; I went there about some work. Butcher saw me with my wife's sister, I went to the corner and met Green there, he asked me to give him a lift with the box and I did: it was lying behind the door in Buckingham Street, and I knew no more what was in it than the cabman did. My father and step mother can prove I was at home and the time I left home.
Witnesses for Rennie.
JANE RENNIE . I am Rennie's "step-mother—he was in our house that Saturday morning—he left home at 9.30—I cannot say where he had slept—my house is No. 40, Shorts Gardens, St. Giles—he had not been there all night.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. He used to work with his father—he went out-at about 9.30—I cannot say exactly what time he came in—I saw him on Friday night—I believe he left his father's house about 8 o'clock and I saw him there I suppose at about 8.30 next morning I cannot tell" to a few minutes.,
GREEN AND SMITH were further charged with having been previously convicted to which they
GREEN**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
RENNIE.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. SMITH** Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, October 29th, and Friday, 30th, 1874.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution,
JANE BLACK . I am the prisoner's wife and live at 24, The Grove, Willow Walk, Crouch End, Hornsey—on the morning of 23rd September my husband and I had been having some words—I went to bed about 4 o'clock—he had his clothes on at that time—he was in drink—he went out in the yard and returned and came to bed to me, he asked me to kiss him and shake hands and I did so—about 7.30,1 got up and dressed myself, and was going out to work, I was in the habit of doing so, leaving him and the child
at home—he was up and dressed then, he said "Jane I have a question or two to ask you, I said "What is it Sam"—he said "I offered you some money last night and you would not take it"—I said "Yes, Sam you did, what money you have got give it to the child to get your breakfast, I am going out to work"—he said "If you will not take the money, you will take this," and he stabbed me twice in the side with a knife, and once on the throat, but that was accidentally done afterwards, I fell on the knife I think in the struggle at the door, he did not do that wilfully—I Can't say how long that was done after the other two stabs, a few minutes as far as I can recollect; I was struggling with him at the time—this (produced) is the knife, it is a spring pocket knife—I can't say Whether it was open in his hand or not, in the confusion I could not see it—I felt the stabs in my Bide—he kept the knife in his trouser's pocket; I did not see him open it—I saw the knife in his hand before I felt the stab; I can't say whether it was open or not, the stab was on the left side, the wound on the throat was on the right side—I ran out of the road into the street—I remember no more, I became insensible.
By THE COURT. I was struggling with him to get out at the door when I received the wound in the throat and I fell on the knife—he was not trying to keep me in, I had got hold of him and fell on him—he had been drinking a good deal lately, he was a very good kind husband when he Was not under the influence of drink—he is in the general trade; he was a carman but he got tired of his horses and gave that up to do a change of work.
EMILY TURNER . I am the wife of James Turner, and live at 24, The Grove, Crouch End—on 23rd September, about 7.45 in the rooming, I was in my room in the upper part of the house; I heard cries of "Murder." from the prisoner's room below; it was Mrs. Black's voice—I ran down stairs and saw her coming from her bedroom door going towards the house door—t followed her—she said she was stabbed—I saw blood coming from her side—I ran up stairs to speak to my husband, and he came down—after that I looked in at the prisoner's bedroom; the door was partly open; he was sitting on the bed dressed—Dr. Orton came very soon after—some of the neighbours went for him—I assisted in undressing Mrs. Black, and put her to bed—I heard the prisoner say that he had done it, and there was the knife, and he gave it to Brown the policeman.
By THE COURT. I heard the cry of "Murder 1" more than once—I had lodged in the house two years and more—except when drunk) he-was a very kind husband—I have seen him "have several fells when in drink, on the back of his head, which I thought might have affected his head—he bled a good deal on one occasion" about eight months ago, when he fell on the flag stones; he had A very bad cut on his head—he is a carter—he was not employed by any one at this time, he was merely jobbing; he had not a cart of his own—I have only heard rows between him and his wife when he has been in drink—I have Seen him in drink before—he is a different man when not in drink.
FREDERICK W. ORTON . I am a surgeon and M. D. of Dublin—I live at Hornsey—about 7.45 in the morning of 23rd September I was called to 24, in the Grove, and found Mrs. Black in the front room ground floor in a fainting condition, and bleeding profusely—I examined her and found a cut about three inches long transversely across the throat—it was not very deep—it did not sever any important vessel—there were also two
punctured wounds in the chest, one or both of which had penetrated the lung—I have not the slightest doubt of that—they were such wounds as might be inflicted by this knife—I just saw the prisoner at a side glance as I was passing from one room to the other—he was standing in the passage of the house—I cannot understand how the cut on the throat could have been caused have attended her up to this time.
By THE COURT. I feel positive about the lung being penetrated, because of the very profuse hemorrhage, and from the fact of there being air under the skin—air could be felt for several inches round the wound, that is a sure sign—I did not hear the prisoner make any remark—I was attending to the woman, and had no conversation with him and had no opportunity of noticing whether he was in liquor—from the position of the wound, quite in the middle of the throat, not more on one side than the other, and from its length and straightness I cannot understand how it 'could have been! caused by an accidental fall on the knife—I could not form a judgment whether it had been done with the right hand or left—it was not deeper; on one side than the other—in a slight wound of this nature that would afford no indication whether it was an intentional or accidental wound; the knife is not at all sharp—the woman is quite out of danger now.
JOHN BROWN (Policeman Y 234). On the morning of 23rd September I was called to this house end saw Mrs. Black sitting in a chair at the door—she was bleeding from the throat and left side—the prisoner came to the door and said "Brown, I did it, and here is the knife I did it with, it was me and no one else that did it"—this is the knife he gave me, it was shot, it had blood on it at the time—the prisoner was sober—he said nothing about its being an' accidental.
Prisoner's Defence. Me and my wife had been quarrelling on the Tues"-day previous about the tent. I told her to pay it. She said "No, I mean to buy myself a pair of boots with the money. I said "Jane, we. have had two or three rows about ibis back rent; I will go round to Mr. Beall, toy landlord, and tell him to take what he likes for the rent I did so; he said he did not want to take my goods, so my wife paid one week's rent, and I sold some things to a man on Crouch Hill for two guineas. I went and had some drink, and about 10.30 or 11 o'clock I went home, pulled off my boots, and laid down on the bed—I said to my wife two or three times in the night "Why don't you come to bed. "She said" I will not "I got up about 4 o'clock and said" Jane, come into bed and kiss me and shake hands and make it up," which she did. I got up about 7.15 and went into the yard I cut a, bit of stick and pointed it with my knife to take something out of my teeth. As I came back into the room my wife was just going out; she had her bonnet on. I said "Where are you going?"She said "To work." I said "You shall not go. "She said "I will," and made a rush to the door, and, not thinking of the knife, I pushed her and she screamed "Murder!"I twisted her round and we both fell on a box, and as she was getting up I put my arm round her neck to kiss her and she ran but I had no intention of doing it. I did not say "Take that" with relation to the knife, but it was a 2s. piece I offered her. I said "Take this, as you refused to take 7d. last night. She said "What money you have got give it to the child to get your breakfast," and I said "No, I will give it to you."
GUILTY on Second Count—Five Years' Penal Servitude.
475. GUSTAVUS GEORGE NAYHAM MARKS (39) , was indicted for unlawfully pledging and disposing of large quantities of goods, which he had obtained within three months of his bankruptcy, under the false colour and pretence of carrying on business in the ordinary way of trade. Other counts varying the mode of charge.
MR. METCALFE, Q. C., with MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. STRAIGHT and AUSTIN METCALFE the Defence.
CHARLES GROSJEAN REMY L'ENFANT . I am a clerk in the London Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the proceedings in the bankruptcy of Gustavus Marks, he describes himself as a commission merchant, of London Wall—there is a petition of Mr. John Parker, a public officer, on behalf of the National Bank, dated 4th February, 1873—the prisoner was adjudged bankrupt on 26th March, 1873—a statement of his affairs was filed on 17th April, 1873. (By this the unsecured creditors were returned at 3,074l. 17s., creditors fully secured 751l., book debts obtained 230l., cash in hand 14s. 6d.; total assets, 943l. 14s. 6d. Amongst the list of creditors fully secured were Davis, of Leadenhall Street, soap, estimated to produce 120l., amount of debt 72l.; merinoes, estimated to produce 530l., amount of debt 350l.; shawls 112l., amount of debt 81l. Layland, of Biotope Lane, shins, 455l., amount of debt 150l. Spyers, of Chamomile Street, hops, 170l., debt 80l.;skins 27l.; debt 18l.) Mr. Grabouski was appointed trustee of the estate on 17th April, 1873—there were private examinations of the bankrupt on 8th and 29th May, 1873, and a public examinations on 31st April, 1873, when a cash, goods, and deficiency account was ordered to be filed—it was not filed till 1874, and on 13th July, 1874, his examination was adjourned sine die, after which a warrant was issued and he was arrested.
Cross-examined. I find an office copy of a debtor's summons on the proceedings, dated 4th January, 1873, issued at the instance of John Parker, the petitioning creditor on behalf of the National Bank—the first order for the bankrupt to file a cash, goods, and deficiency account was on 31st May—there is also an order directing that the bankrupt or his solicitor shall not inspect the bankruptcy proceedings, that is dated 4th September, 1874—that was after the order to prosecute—the prisoner's solicitor applied before the Magistrate to inspect and take copies and was refused—it appears in the trustee's affidavit what books and documents have passed into his possession he makes no return to the Court of Bankruptcy, his affidavit mentions ledger, day-book, banker's pass-book, and a number of small diaries, letter-book, bills payable book, and receipt book—Messrs. Clarke and Schools are solicitors for the trustees—there is a letter from them on the proceedings, dated 5th July, 1874, to the Record Keeper of the Bankruptcy Court, prohibiting the bankrupt from having access to the proceedings without the order of the Court.
Re-examined. Messrs. Wontner were the prisoner's solicitors at that time—I don't know that at the police court Mr. Wontner and the bankrupt also had an opportunity to inspect the books—it is the ordinary course when an order to prosecute is made to prevent the bankrupt's knowledge of it until he is arrested—the date of the order to prosecute is 5th August, 1874.
JULES GRABOUSKI . I am a merchant, of 66d., Aldermanbury—I am agent for Messrs. Neil Brothers, of Paris; they are dealers in French merinos, and other goods—I was appointed trustee under these bankruptcy proceedings—I made an affidavit with reference to the books—I have handed those books over to my solicitor, and they are here—the ledger has no entry in it at all; it is a blank book—these statements of mine were found amongst
the bankrupt's papers—they are monthly statements of accounts which were sent to him at different times between July and October, 1872—the total amount of his debt to me in October was 541l. 2s.—the only cash payment that he made up to October was 77l. 13s. 4d., that was for the first parcel of goods; that left 54l. 2s., for which he gave me these acceptances for 270l. and 271l. 2s., at two months, both falling due on 4th December, 1872—neither of them were honoured—about 18th November I saw the prisoner in respect of seventy-five pieces of merino—I handed him this memorandum—it is "Seventy five pieces merino at 1s. 10 1/2 d., 2 1/2 per cent, 200l. cash, the rest at two months from date of invoice, to Southgates & Co."—those were the terms upon which I was willing to part with those goods—he saw the patterns, and I think the pieces as well—he came over, and I told him as there were already these two bills which were due in December, I would not give him further credit before they were paid, and he agreed to pay one half in cash, and the rest in a month, by bill or cheque—he then sent this note and cheque. (Read): "Gentlemen, the bearer will hand you cheque for 194l., being 3 per cent less than 200l. as agreed—please give bearer the order to Southgate to transfer the goods to my name; I will call and see you in the morning and make a settlement"—the cheque is dated 18th November, on the National Provincial Bank, in favour of Neil Brothers or order—he erased "bearer" and put "order," because he knew that we were obliged to send the cheque over to Paris to get it cashed—as I had not authority to endorse their name on it I had, on previous transactions asked him for an open cheque, so that I might cash it at once—at that time the goods were at Southgate's to our order—on the receipt of this cheque I gave an order to transfer them to his name—I expected there was money at the bank to meet the cheque, otherwise I should not have parted with the goods"—before the cheque was presented he called and selected five or six more pieces of merino, I think it was on the same day, the 18th—the amount of those was 49l. 13s. 10d. I gave him credit for those on the same terms, to be paid with the second half—I sent the cheque to Paris in due course, and on 26th November I received it back marked "Orders not to pay"—I saw the prisoner the same day and asked him how this happened—he said, he had some difficulty with the bank, and that matters would be settled in a few days; he said there was an attachment on his banking account—we presented it a second time in a few days, and the answer was "Not sufficient"—it has never been paid or the 49l. either—he owes me altogether 1,010l. 8s. 2d.—I did not know at that time that he was getting advances from Davis, Layland, or persons of that kind—had I known it I should not have parted with my property.
Cross-examined. MR. KELLER and I are both agents to Neil Brothers—we carry on business in the same office and share the profits of the commission—these conversations about the merinos did not take place with Mr. Keller—in certain instances he was present, but I was present at all the transactions—we were both there, and both conducted the transaction—it was Mr. Keller who said that as the two bills were running there must be a cash payment; that was repeated by Mr. Keller and by myself on several occasions—I employ clerks—this is my ledger, at that time I kept it myself up to September—if during my absence money was paid to a clerk he would give it to me when I came back with the name of the person from whom he received it—if Mr. Keller received money I should enter it in the ledger—I knew that Marks was in difficulties as soon as the 194l. cheque
came back, we got suspicious then—I think it was in February, 1873, that I first heard that a petition in bankruptcy had been filed against him—Clarke and Schools were acting as my solicitors at the time I was appointed trustee—I had never acted as a trustee in bankruptcy before—I was Conversant with the Bankruptcy Act, and with the duties of a trustee—I read the Act and left it to my solicitor—I was present at the bankrupt's examination on 8th May, 1873—at that time my solicitor had all his books and papers—I heard Mr. Munday, the clerk to the National Provincial Bank, examined—I don't remember the bankrupt making an observation during Mr. Munday's examination—the first lot of merinoes are entered in the ledger on 15th November—they went to Southgates in the name of Neil Brothers—the prisoner made no complaint to me that the pieces had been found to fee short—I put that question to all our clerks, and nobody had heard anything about it—as far as I know, he never complained that they were short—the 49l. worth were sent from our place to Southgate's in the prisoner's own name—I saw' him very seldom after the examination—I asked him if he wanted to make an arrangement—I hare not offered to take 200l. in settlement of his liability to our firm—I should not be surprised that out of thirteen creditors eleven object to this prosecution, because there are only four of five who have really lost money—I have Seen the prisoner several times since his committal by the Magistrate; he has tried to make promises—I generally sent him to my solicitor, I would not hear anything.
Re-examined. I am a creditor for one third of the whole amount—some of the other larger creditors agree with toe in dairying on this prosecution.
EDWARD MORGAN . I am a hop merchant of 6, Three Crane Square, Borough—In December, 1872, a person came to my office with two parcels of hops that I had given as samples to some other person—he also brought a card of Marks'—about the 15th December I got a letter from Marks; I have searched for that letter and cannot find it; in it he made me an offer on some samples "so submitted to him—I afterwards received another letter from him, offering 98s. a cwt. for twenty-five pockets of hops; I cannot find that letter; that came out at 193l. 6s.—we agreed upon terms—I agreed to take 120l. cash and the remainder in a bill at two months—the hops were sent to Southgate's in my name—the prisoner wanted me to send them there in his name—I declined to do so as it is not usual till they are paid for—in the beginning of January I called once or twice on the prisoner but could not see him—at last I sent Mr. Hill and agreed through him to take 50l. in cash and a bill for 70l. at fourteen days—I received the 50l. in a cheque for 48l. 15s. less the discount—he deducted 25s., 2 1/2 per cent.—I also received the bill—neither of the bills have been paid, the excuse he made was that the Australian mail would not be in till the 3rd of the following month, and if I would let it go the fourteen days it would be paid—these produced from amongst the Bankrupts papers are the statements I sent to him—the 48l. cheque was honoured—on receiving that cheque I transfered the hops at Southgate's to his name—I knew nothing about his pledging the goods to Davis or Layland—he told me he wanted them to ship to Australia.
WILLIAM HOLMES . I am a friend of Mr. Longuet of Paris—I am not in trade myself—Mr. Longuet asked me to find a customer for ten quarter casks of brandy I had the bill of lading for them—I was introduced to Marks as a buyer of brandy and he took the ten casks—they came to about 100l.—he gave me a bill at two months, this is the receipt I gave him
dated 20th January.—I sent the bill to Paris and it was sent back—Marks gave me 3l. or 4l. to pay my expenses—he said the brandy was to ship to Australia.
STEPHEN LONDON . I am manager to Messrs. Southgate, packers of London Wall—on 18th November, 1872—I received seventy-eight pieces of merino, to the order of Neill brothers, and I received three other pieces, I think, on the same day.—I received on that day an order transferring the goods to the order of Marks—that order was between the 18th and 20th endorsed by Marks to J. Davis, and on 20th they were packed in cases and delivered at the London docks,—I have a memorandum here of twenty-five pockets of hops, they were sent to us on 15th January, 1873, to the order of E. Morgan—they were transferred to the order of Marks on the same date, and on 23rd they were transferred to J. Spyer by Marks.
Cross-examined. Our business is to pack for any market-we, provide cases and pack them—we should only measure the goods sent to us under circumstances—I have nothing to show whether the merinoes sent on 18th November, were measured, they were in pieces detailed in this paper—there is a cross against some of them and some are ticked—that Would be done by one of our warehousemen or packers; I have no idea what it means—I am not positive whether these merinoes were measured or not, I have an impression that some of them were—I am not positive whether some were found short, I can't say one way or the other—we have often packed things for Mr. Davis for the last ten or twelve years, he is a merchant and ships to Australia, Valparaiso and other parts.
JOSEPH DAVIS . I am a shipping merchant carrying on business, at 26, Leadenhall Street—I have had some transactions with the prisoner, I think the first was in November, 1872, I have ray books here, I see the first transaction was on 2nd October—I advanced him 72l. 1s. on the deposit of two tons of soap on that day—61l. was the nett amount that I actually paid him; there were charges for insurance, 10 per cent, amounting to 7l., 4s., the next transaction was on 18th November that was an advance of 200l. on eighty-one pieces of merino lying at Southgate's, they were not trans ferred to my name, Messrs. Southgate gave me a memorandum that they held them on my account for packing; they were there to my order—I gave the prisoner two cheques one for 200l. on the 18th, and one for 101l. 10s. 1d. on the 19th—the reason why the cheques were divided, was because I understood that several pieces had to be measured and that was not completed till the 19th, and I gave him 200l. one day, and the rest next day, I was not present at any measuring—I gave instructions to measure one piece to see that they were correct—I wished to have one piece measured before I gave him the balance—I did not see the invoice—I did not know where they came from, I shipped them to Australia within a day or two, as soon as the cases could be made for them and sent to the docks—they were sent out to Charles Moore and Company, of Sydney, whose name appears on the hypothecation letter—this is a copy of it. (This was dated 19th November, 1372, and purported to be an acknowledgment of an advance of 355l. 11s. 6d. on eighty-one pieces of merino to be shipped by the Glendower to Sydney consigned to Charles Moore and Company, and in the event of the goods not realising the amount the deficiency to be made good, and the surplus if any to be applied to any deficiency in other shipments, dock charges, insurance, packing, etc., being deducted left a balance of 301l. 10s. 1d.)
—I paid the packer and deducted my usual commission, 5 per cent. on the gross proceeds of sale, the del credere would make it 7 1/2, I have received the account of the merino sales, there is no surplus—they are dated Sydney, April, 1873—I got them two or three months after—on 20th November I advanced the prisoner 18l. on a deposit of twenty kip skins and on 1st January 67l. 10s. on the deposit of twenty-five dozen cotton shawls, on the same form of contract, I have no other contract notes—there is another entry of 129l. 10s. on 23rd, January, I really cannot tell you what that entry refers to, my bookkeeper will tell you—I had no brandy transaction with the prisoner—this account sale is for the merino and the kips, together; the amount realized is 300l. 5s. 3d.—I consigned the goods to Charles Moore and Company to sell privately, or if he could not, by public auction—they were sold separately, not altogether, there is a line and a price for each article—Australia is a very uncertain market—the sales amount to 409l. 8s. 1d.—the 109l. 2s. must be another sale that is for part of the merinoes, this explains it; one case got damaged by sea water, and they were sold on account of whom it might concern, and we recovered 19l. from the under writer on that case—there are two sales, and credit is given for the amount received from the Insurance Company, that makes the proceeds of the merinoes and kips 428l.—you see there are several yards short on the account sales; there is some discrepancy in the measurement, I deduct 6l. 12s. for freight, carriage, commission and guarantee—the guarantee does not mean anything beyond the del credere, it means the del credere—5 percent. is taken off on the other side, that is for the agent, he does not do business for nothing, it is quite regular the "exchange 10 per cent." is the difference in exchange between London and Sydney, and for the interest of the money, and the money coming back before we 'get reimbursed; it is the usual thing, it is 5 per cent commission besides the exchange, we don't get reimbursed perhaps for twelve months—if the defendant puts down in his account a large surplus coming from me, I can't be accountable for that, or for anything that he puts down; it is not the fact; at the time he put that down the goods were not realized—my clerk can tell you when these account sales came, he knows more about it than I do—there is a small balance due on the whole—Charles Moore is one of the first merchants in Australia—there is not a son of mine in the firm,' I have no son at Sydney—I have a son at Valparaiso in the firm of Caro and Davis, the soap went to my son there.
Cross-examined. Caro and Davis is one of the large firms at Valparaiso—Charles Moore and Co. have carried on business at Sydney for twenty-five years—I and my father before me have carried on business in London forty years—it is our business to ship goods to Sydney and Valparaiso—it is a regular business to advance money on goods shipped for Australia—the Colonial markets fluctuate in a very astonishing way—merinoes are a particularly fluctuating article—the soap that went to Valparaiso was rather a dead article in the market—I did not intend in consigning these things to Moore and Co. that they should be slaughtered in any way; on the contrary, the best has been done for all parties concerned, according to the market at the time of the arrival of the goods—this is not the first instance by many in which losses have been sustained upon goods that have passed through me, the account sales of the merinoes will show that several pieces were deficient, they did not measure out the lengths marked on them William Jeffries Cox. I am clerk to the last witness—I received the
account sales from Valparaiso with regard to the soap—it would be the mail just previous to 6th August, 1873—there was a loss of 8l. 6s. on the soap; that was the difference between the selling and the advance—8l. 6s. is due to Mr. Davis—there was in the same way a loss on the merinoes of 14l. 5s. 7d.; that is taking into account the 19l. we received on the Insurance for the damaged goods; the advance was 19l. more than the return from Australia—I include in that estimate the eighty-one pieces, the whole of the parcel by that ship—it would be 4l. 1s., exclusive of our commission—that was not charged before—the 10 per cent. is the exchange between the two countries and 5 per cent. interest on the money; that is our commission on the transaction—the 10 percent, was not to cover all, we charge 5 per cent more when they come back—0 per cent is deducted before the advance, besides charges, then 7 1/2 l., and then 5 on the other side, making 22 1/2 per cent; then he has all the charges at the other side—the account sales of the merino-reached us in August, 1873—there was a loss on the shawls of about 7l. 0s. 5d—this entry of an advance of 129l. in January is an incorrect entry of mine, there was really no advance in January—there was a loss on each of the three transactions.
Cross-examined. We do have sales where there is a considerable profit to the persons selling through us, or else the business would soon be stopped—there would be no difficulty in giving an instance of that (Mr: DAVIS. My Lord, I submit this is, not bearing on the case, it is not proper, and I object to it, I don't wish the business of any clients to be disclosed in open Court.) This is the ledger; I have not got the account sales book here—I decidedly pledge my oath that there are many transactions in which money has been returned over and above the advances to the persons shipping—I could not give you an estimate of how many in the course of a year, a very great number, deducting the 22 per cent, and all the charges—at times the profits in the Colonial markets are very large, and at times the other way—all the particulars in reference to Mr. Marks, his being the person taking the advance, the ship by which the goods have gone and the person to whom they are consigned would appear in our books, and could be found at any time by any person making inquiry.
Re-examined. I don't know that I am at liberty to name any person. to whom a balance has been handed; I could mention them if I must do so—I will give you the name of Bethamy, of Baltavia Works, Langton, Staffordshire to whom I have just recently paid a cheque of profit, I forget the amount, but I think somewhere about 100l.—the advance might have been on 300l. or 400l. or something like that, I really could not: tell you the amount—that is not a solitary transaction, I could remember several, but I am not quite at liberty to mention names—it is not more usual to have a loss than a gain, I can scarcely say from memory which is the more usual, but I should think there would be quite as many gains as losses—we do not lose at all—there are not more losses than gains to the consignor; I mean what I say, with the 22 per cent and all expenses, and although colonial affairs fluctuate very much—we try to ascertain the state of the markets before we send out; we send out anything suitable for the market—we take nothing that does not suit the market as far as we can judge.
STEPHEN JOSEPH SPYER . I am a merchant and commission agent, and carry on business at 10, Union Court, Old Broad Street—on 23rd January, 1873, the prisoner called on me and obtained an advance on 25 pockets of hops
of 129l. 10s.—the total cash I paid him was 110l. 9s; there was 3l. 17s. 6d. for insurance, 2l. 9s. 6d. for dock charges, and 12l. 19s. exchange, at 10 per cent—I am not quite certain, but I think I saw his invoice, if I did I must have known that the invoice price to him was 193l. 6s.—this is a press copy of the contract, in the main it is the same as Mr. Davis's, I think there is some little alteration. (It wot read and was identical with the former). My usual commission is 5 per cent. and 2 1/2 del credere on the gross proceeds of the sale—I sent the goods out to Charles Moore and Co., they are auctioneers and merchants as well—I had an account sale from them on 30th October, 1873; I am sorry to say it shows a loss of 26l., 1s. 10d. it does not produce the amount I advanced, I beg to explain that out of the 10 per cent, upon which so much stress is laid is to be taken frequently the amount of 2d. and sometimes 3 per cent premium on the return draft, and if the goods should he held for twelve months without being sold no interest is charged; the 10 per cent. covers all that; and so it is in the exchange from Valparaiso, frequently it comes to 2d. and 3d. a dollar, and we take the risk, of that—we also take the risk of the goods being sold on credit after the return sales; we get 2 1/2 more for that—I say that I am actually money out of pocket on the transaction, 2 or 3 per cant on bills and no interest on the money.
Cross-examined. That was the only transaction I had—goods are often sent to me represented to he of a particular quality which when sent to the colonies turn out not to be of that quality—these were represented to be Kent hops by Marks, and I feel certain they were so described in the invoice, but I could not say positively; I don't know what county hops they were, I only know that they must have been inferior to have sold at so low a price, hops as a rule in the colonies almost always fetch a good price—it is very common for persons shipping to the colonial market to obtain advances on their shipments, hundreds of persons do it.
THOMAS ALEXANDER LAYLAND . I carry on business at 29 and 30, Bimorph Lane, and am a merchant and warehouseman—in June, 1872, I bought of the defendant some tobacco pouches and chest protectors for 30l. and paid him for them—on Saturday, 4th January, 1873, I advanced him 50l. on sixteen bales of skins, lying at Hanbury's Wharf, and on the 6th 50l., and on the 10th, 10l.—he redeemed some glue upon which I had advanced 13l. 12s., and that was placed against the skins—the amount altogether was 134l. 11s. 6d.—I endeavoured to sell those skins for him, hut they had got damaged in some way, over heated in the bales, not before I advanced the money—I did not charge 10 per cent, at starting, unfortunately it was a very heavy loss for me—I charged 5 per cent commission for selling on the amount realised—I don't send them abroad—I did eventually sell the skins a long time after the bankruptcy, in January, 1874, for 48l., and I lost the whole of the balance—the amount I paid out of pocket was 160l. 16s.—I did not give the prisoner an account of that transaction, he was then a bankrupt I had previously wished the solicitors for the bankruptcy to pay me my advances and take the security, and as they did not do so I sold them—it is not true that I am a debtor to the bankrupt 335l. in respect of that transaction, he is a debtor to me for 120l.—we generally advance as closely as we can upon what we think they will realise—on 25th January, 1873, I advanced the prisoner, on ten quarter casks of brandy, 25l. by cheque, 5l. in cash, charges paid 2l. 10s. 11d. and 2s. 3d., amounting together to
32l. 13s. 2d.—that does not include commission—he redeemed them on the 11th February, he brought a gentleman to pay the money, I don't know the party—they paid my charges and took the warrant—besides that I advanced the prisoner on wine and barley and other things.
FREDERICK MUNDAY . I am a clerk in the National Provincial Bank of England, in Threadneedle Street—the prisoner opened an account there on 18th July, 1872—this is the pass-book, it is a correct copy of the Bank ledger—he opened the account with a payment in of 50l.—on 18th November the balance in his favour was 62l. some odd shillings—at the end of the year there was 13s. 1d. in his favour, the account has never been closed—the balance in his favour at the end of the account is 1l. 8s. 6d., subject to our charges for keeping the account.
Cross-examined. I was examined before the Registrar on 8th May, 1873—I was then asked a variety of questions on the part of the Trustee in reference to Marks' account—the words I see on this cheque "Orders not to pay this cheque" must have been written in consequence of a written authority from Marks—I can't say who the letters "N. S." were written by, they appear to have been scratched out—"Orders not to pay" were written by a clerk named Hill—he is not a bald headed gentleman, there are several bald headed gentlemen—I don't recollect hearing the bankrupt make any observation while I was being examined as to his attending at the bank with certain cash at the time that cheque became due.
Re-examined. There was no attachment on the prisoner's account between the 18th and 20th—this is the credit slip of 18th November—60l. in notes was paid in that morning, before that there was only 2l. in his favour—that was the last payment in until 11th December, when there was 10l.
WILLIAM PETTITT . I live at Regent Square, King's Cross, and am agent for Mrs. Jones, who has the letting of 16, Gold Square—at Midsummer, 1872, I let the prisoner two rooms on the ground floor and a store room at the top of the house, for 56l. 16s. per annum—he took it for three years—he placed some furniture in the rooms, I can't say what—the Christmas quarter was paid before Lady Day, 1873, I think in two sums—the Michaelmas rent was paid—we distrained on the furniture at the end of April.
JAMES GOLDEN . I am an accountant, of 70, Cheapside—I have had placed in my hands the accounts filed in June, 1874, by the bankrupt called "the goods, cash, and deficiency account," also a copy of the accounts which he filed on 17th April, 1873—on that date he was carrying to his credit 713l. as the surplus from securities in the hands of certain creditors, whose names he scheduled—he makes the same item of 713l. stand in the account he filed in June, 1874—I find that to the credit of the goods account; in the deficiency it is placed to the credit to decrease the deficiency—in the first account he puts it down as assets, and in the second as a loss—the goods account shows the purchase of goods from September, 1872, to February, 1873, amounting to 2,872l. 18s.—the persons from whom the goods are obtained are returned as creditors for that amount—in effect he states this "All the goods I bought I bought of thirteen creditors, and they are owing for, but there are other goods which are owing for which are not brought into this account at all"—the difference between the 2,872l. and the amount of the unsecured creditors, is 3,000l. odd—that difference is explained simply by not inserting in the goods account some of the creditors—that enables me to say that he could not have bought any goods for cash—the goods account does not show that he bought any for cash—I find the amount of
cash shipments to Braham and Cohen, to 831l., and sales 205l., cash sales 122l. 10s., giving a total of 1,178l. 10s.—according to this statement the goods were got rid of at 1,644l. 7s. below their cost price—that is the difference between 1,178l. and 2,800l., assuming his goods account to be true—Cohen is returned as debtor at 130l., and Braham at 75l.—I have had my attention called to the pass-book—I find from that the receipts from July, 1872, to March, 1873, were 755l. 15s. 6d., paid into the bank—from the cash account filed in June, 1874, it appears that his receipts were 983l. 10s. from October, 1872, to February, 1873—the payments from July, 1872, to March, 1873, appear by the pass-books to be 750l. 10s. 7d.; by the cash-book it is 278l. 13s. 4d. from September, 1872, to March, 1873—the effect of that comparison is that he received 754l. 17s. 8d. more than he spent according to the cash-book; he has not accounted for that—the cash account that he should have filed should also have contained the payments made by his bankers, but I can't trace any of them—the payments in the cash-book are not the same as in the pass-book; there are some in each account that are not in the other—the cash account ought to contain personal accounts and bank payments, but I cannot trace any—the payments for goods by cheque I can trace, for instance, the cheque to Messrs. Neill appears in the pass-book; I think it ought to appear in the cash account as well—none of the payments appear in the cash account—the deficiency account is merely made up from the cash account—the deficiency account rendered to June, 1874, does not give any further information to the creditors; it is a pure fabrication I take it from beginning to end; it is only made up from the bankrupt's examination and other things—there is not a single account of his trading—I have seen the books—there is no account in the ledger; there are some leaves torn out—it appears to be a second-hand book—there is nothing in any of the books that in any way relates to his trading.
Cross-examined. I have made my report from the accounts themselves, not from the bankrupt's examination—his books were given to me at the same time as the accounts, which was about a week before he was examined at Guildhall.
GEORGE BLAGRAVE SNELL . I am one of the shorthand writers attached to the Court of Bankruptcy—I took notes of the bankrupt's examination on 8th and 29th May—the transcript of my notes is on the file—it is a correct transcript of my notes, which I took accurately from the mouth of the defendant, question and answer.
Cross-examined. I also took Munday's examination; while he was being examined the bankrupt interpolated some observation which he was afterwards sworn to—it is on the notes; this is what he said "I applied to the manager and showed him the money I had; I wanted him to hold possession of the money for this cheque; he said you had better not pay the money into your account, you had better retain possession of it and give us an order not to pay the cheque—I produced the money to the manager and also to the clerk at the counter, a bald-headed gentleman."
The examination of the bankrupt was put in and read.
JULES GRABOWSKI (re-examined). I received 5l. in cash from the bankrupt in January, 1873—I have not received any other sum that I know of—the 15l. I put to his credit—I took possession of the books and papers the day I was appointed trustee, since then the bankrupt has never applied to me to inspect them—I did not find amongst the papers any invoices of
goods bought by him other than those mentioned to day—I have not been able to realise any assets nor have I any expectation of being able to do so—I have been to 16, Gold Square, the prisoner's place of business—there were two rooms and a small passage room—there was a counter board put up—I never saw people there buying goods over the counter—I have been there often, it was a counting-house.
MR. STRAIGHT submitted that as regards some of the counts the proof was defective, especially with respect to the obtaining goods upon the payment of cheques which could not he said to be a false pretence as he actually had money at his bankers' though not sufficient to meet the cheques when presented. MR. METOALFE contended that the mere giving a cheque amounted to a representation that he had funds to meet it.
MR. JUSTICE LUSH was not aware of any authority which went to that extent; the giving a cheque upon a bank where he had no account would be a false pretence. because it was a representation that he had an account there, but he was not aware that it had been held that when a man really had an account, although it might not be sufficient to meet the cheque, that that would amount to a false pretence. The substantial question, however, for the Jury, was whether the prisoner was really carrying on a legitimate business or whether it was a mere pretence to raise money.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
THE JURY desired to express their opinion that the mode in which Mr. Davis and Mr. Spyer conducted their trading transactions was anything but satisfactory.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRIFFITHS the Defence.
JAMES SKINNER . I was in the employ of Messrs. McCaul, provision merchants of Hounds ditch, as foreman tin-smith—the prisoner was also in that employment as foreman butcher—on Saturday, 11th July, I spoke to him upon some small affair concerning the business and he answered me insultingly; nothing more took place between us—on the Monday in speaking to Mr. Whittingham, one of the firm, Harris' name was brought up and I mentioned that he had used insulting language to me—I could not say whether he saw me speaking to Mr. Whittingham—I believe he was on the premises at the time—about dinner time I was standing in the lobby looking down the court expecting to see somebody that I had sent out—I could not say who was in the yard at the time—the prisoner passed by me, I did not speak to him or he to me—about five minutes afterwards I was leaning on a shelf that goes across the lobby when he came behind me and stabbed me in the side, saying "Take that"—it was only one stab—Thomas Lee came up to me and I was taken to the London Hospital—a statement was taken from me that evening and my deposition was taken on 18th September, by Mr. Lushington.
Cross-examined. We had both been in the employment for many years—I believe the prisoner has been there as many as twenty years, nine or ten years longer than me—he has a wife and family—I could not say whether
he was having his dinner just before I was stabbed, it was the dinner hour, I believe he had his dinner on the premises—I don't think that was his usual place for having it—I said before the Magistrate "I can't say if he was eating his dinner, I think he was, "I said that as it was near the dinner hour—I also said "I have seen him use many knives at his dinner"—that is true—it was in the lobby that I was stabbed, that is the entrance to the factory—there was no one else there, I am quite clear about that—I was standing with my back to him—I had not spoken to him at all that day, not since Saturday at 2 or 3 o'clock—I did not pull his hair, he did Dot turn round and said "Who's that," I will swear the words were "Take that," not "Who's that"—the stab caused me a great deal of pain.
Re-examined. I did not know that he was behind me at the times I received the stab.
WILLIAM ELLIOTT WHITTINGHAM . I am a member of the firm of John McCaul and Co., 137, Hounds ditch—the prisoner and prosecutor were in our employ—on Monday morning, 13th July, one of the foremen made a complaint to me of the prisoner, in consequence of which I told the prisoner that it had been reported that he was the worse for drink on the Saturday evening and had delayed the work—he said "I don't have my meals like other people, I take a little beer instead"—he then became excited and asked who could say anything against him—a good deal passed, he was with me about ten minutes; one phrase he used was "I have been in all the prisons about London and no one can say anything against me"—I did not understand what he meant—afterwards Skinner complained to me that the prisoner was the worse for drink on Saturday evening, and had delayed the work and used insulting language to him, which he would not have done if he had not been the worse for drink—it was early in the morning when I spoke to the prisoner, he smelt of drink then, I could not say that he was drunk, he was exceedingly excited.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been with us twenty years, he has a wife and several children—I was not examined before the Magistrate—Skinner was not the person who made the formal complaint to me of the prisoner being drunk, it was another man the first thing in the morning, and it was on his speaking to me that I repremanded the prisoner—Skinner simply mentioned it incidentally in the course of conversation: afterwards he said if I repremanded him it was better than discharging him—the prisoner is of a very excitable disposition—I believe he has had brain fever once or twice, he has always been a very industrious servant, exceedingly so, but very excitable, especially when the worse for drink—I have not noticed the men joking or chaffing him.
JAMES LEE . I am a labourer in Messrs. McCaul's employ—on 13th July, about 1.20 I came out of the kitchen, which is on the same floor as the lobby—I passed the lobby and saw Skinner standing leaning over the counter or bench near the lobby door—the prisoner was standing at a post just outside the lobby door—I went to my dinner—the prisoner went and sat down in the yard eating his dinner; he was using a clasp knife—I was a few yards from him—I heard a footstep come along the yard, and turned and saw it was Skinner walking down the yard; in a minute or two he came back and went into the lobby again—he passed the prisoner—I saw no more, but about three minutes afterwards I heard somebody crying out "Oh, oh!" as if in distress—I went into the lobby and met the prisoner coming out into the yard with the knife open in his hand that he had been
using at dinner, and as I passed him he said "That is enough for him"—I went info the passage and saw Mr. Robinson supporting Skinner—I went for a doctor—I afterwards saw the prisoner in custody, and he said to the constable that he had done it—I believe he had been drinking that morning—the men had not been chaffing him that I know of—I am in another department—I did not see the prosecutor pull his hair.
Cross-examined. I have known him long, and have been on very good terms with him, the men were very friendly with him; when in drink he is very excitable—we all chaff and joke each other—they did not pull his hair, no liberties like that—Skinner does not chaff or joke, he is rather in a higher circle; of course we don't take liberties with those who are over us—the men had not been chaffing and joking the prisoner that day, not a word that I heard—I had been very busy at work; there is plenty of light in the lobby—I did not hear Skinner say anything to the prisoner as he passed him.
SAMUEL EDWARDS . I am in Messrs. McCaul's service as an odd man—on 13th July, about 1.15 I was going through the lobby—I saw Skinner leaning over the lobby door, and the prisoner sitting on a box about six feet away from him, eating a halfpenny loaf—he doubled his fist towards Skinner, and shook his head and said "I will give him something directly" I said "Hold your silly row, Ned"—I' then went into the kitchen to get my dinner, and in two or three minutes I heard Skinner holloa out "Oh, Ned, Harris has stabbed me!"
Cross-examined. I was not before the Magistrate—I was told to come here yesterday—Mr. Jarvis, the cashier, asked me about it, and I told him. Dennis Robinson. I am a clerk in Messrs. McCaul's employ—I heard Skinner call out "Harris has stabbed me, for God's sake help me"—I rushed out into the lobby—I saw the prisoner between the lobby and the door; he was 3, 4, or 5 yards from Skinner, and was standing and looking at him—I saw a knife in his hand—Skinner was put in a cab and taken to the hospital—I heard the prisoner say "I did it, and I can't help it"—he seemed to me perfectly sober, but rather excited.
CHARLES KING (City Policeman 933). I took the prisoner into custody at the factory—Mr. Robinson said to me "Be careful as you go to him, he has a knife about him"—I went up to him and said What have you about you?"—he said "Nothing"—he was standing with his hands behind him—I caught him by the arm, and as I did so I saw a knife in his waistcoat pocket—I produce it, it was shut—I opened it and there was some wet blood on the point; the stain of it is there now—the prisoner said "Oh, that is my knife!"—in going to the station he said "I have done it and I can't help it now."
Cross-examined. He said "I do not know what I have been doing of, they have been pulling me about"—he was very much excited—he said several times that they had pulled his hair; he did not say who had done it—he was either very much excited or in liquor, I could not say which, it is hard to tell when a man is in that state.
THOMAS HARBISON (City Police Inspector). I was on duty at the station when the prisoner was brought there—I read over the charge to him—he said "I did it, but I was in a passion"—about 7 o'clock I went to the hospital and took a statement from Skinner, which I read over to the prisoner this is it. (This was in substance the same as Skinner's evidence.) On reading that to the prisoner he said "I did it, I did not know what I was about, he worked me up to such a pitch."
Cross-examined. I did not hear him say that he had pulled his hair.
GEORGE EDWARD WILLIAMSON . I am a surgeon, and live at 49, Philip Street, Commercial Road East—I was one of the house surgeons at the London Hospital in July when the prosecutor was brought there—he had a small wound externally, about three-quarters of an inch in length, within the margin of the ribs on the right side—I believe it had penetrated a thin layer of lung and passed into the liver; it was an extremely dangerous wound; it penetrated both the chest and the abdomen—I should not think it had gone the whole length of the blade of this knife—I thought it was probably about 2 inches in depth, but that I cannot state for certain—I did not probe wound—we believed it had penetrated the liver—he remained under my care something under a fortnight—there were no symptoms afterwards indicating that the liver was injured—it was only on the first day or two that I thought it was so, the symptoms afterwards were from the lungs—we concluded afterwards that if it had penetrated the liver it was not to any great or important extent—the danger consisted in immediate hæmorrhage, or subsequent inflammation of the chest or abdomen—I and certain the lung was penetrated—he has suffered from that since, Mr. Herman will speak to that—he was in great danger the same evening he came in, and I thought it necessary to take his declaration.
Cross-examined. It is certain that the wound had penetrated the chest, I could not say absolutely that it bad penetrated the abdomen, we thought it had, it was neither proved or disproved afterwards, because that part of the wound might have healed without any further symptoms—this is a sharp pointed knife—it is very improbable that the wound could have been caused by the man suddenly turning round with the knife in his hand upon a person behind him—the length of the skin wound hardly exceeded the breadth of the knife—if the man had turned round as suggested, the skin wound would have been of considerably greater length, from the movement of the man turning; it would probably graze along the skin—it would require some force to push it in the depth it was.
Re-examined. It was such a wound as could be caused by this knife.
GEORGE ERNEST HERMAN . I succeeded Mr. Williamson as house surgeon at the London Hospital—I have attended the prosecutor up to the present time, he is under my care in the hospital now—when I took up his case he had symptoms of inflammation of the pleura, he was in great danger for a long time, but he has now recovered—on 1st September he was in a bad state, and I gave my opinion that his deposition should be taken; and Mr. Lushington, the Magistrate, came—it was necessary afterwards to probe the wound to let out the matter—it was about three inches deep; it had pierced the membrane covering the lungs—there were no symptoms to indicate that it had penetrated the liver.
Cross-examined. I should think it would require a good deal of force to penetrate the pleura with such an instrument as this, or else a rapid thrust—it is a sharp pointed knife. The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY on the Second Count— Five Tear's Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, October 29th, 1874.
Before Mr. Justice Denman.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BANNON . I am superintendent of labour at Poplar workhouse—the prisoner was an inmate there and liable to do stone breaking duty—he had been an inmate on four or five other occasions and was perfectly aware what was necessary to be done—on 1st October, about 12.45, I was in the stone yard and the prisoner was breaking stones with this hammer (produced)—he asked me how it was that I had ordered him that work to do—I told him that he was able to do it, and he had better get on with it; and turned round to walk away—after walking a few steps I received a blow on the back of my head—I staggered 4 or 5 yards, fell heavily on my face and rolled over on my side—the prisoner then ran up to me with the hammer uplifted in both hands and said "I shall settle you"—I called out "Help!" and "Murder!" and McAuliff seized the prisoner who said to me "You b——I will murder you yet"—I got up and called Merrick and he and McAuliff brought the prisoner across the yard—I followed and the prisoner again said that he would murder me; that was two or three minutes after the first observation.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I say "What have you given me ten bushels of stones for? A. You said "How is it you have ordered me stone breaking—I said "Because you are able to do it, and you had better get on with it"—I may have said "I want nothing farther to say to you.
Prisoner. You were facing the shed door and you never turned round before I struck you on the head, and I said "Now lock me up," Witness. I did not hear that—I did not give you a kick behind as you went from the stone yard to the Master's office; I could scarcely keep on my legs, but I did not completely lose my senses.
DAVID MCAULIFF . I was inmate of the Poplar Union—it was the prisoner's duty to scrub the rooms on 30th September, but he refused—he said to me at 8 o'clock "I shall do no work and if I have to break ten bushels of stones to-morrow, I shall settle Bannon"—on the next morning October 1st I saw the prisoner in the stone shed speaking to Bannon who turned and walked away, and the prisoner came out of the shed took his hammer in both hands and struck Bannon on the head with it—he swung it round like this (from his left shoulder)—I am not left handed. (Prisoner. I done it with my right hand.) Bannon staggered and called "Help!"—I ran to him as he was reeling and he fell—when the prisoner got up to him he had the hammer raised in his hand to give him another blow on the head, but I wrested it from him—Bannon had fallen and got up quickly and was reeling again—the prisoner turned round to Bannon and said "I will do for you yet"—I went across with the prisoner to Merrick the porter, and then saw the prisoner in the shed with the handle of another hammer in his hand, I don't know how the top came off of it—Merrick said "Put that down"—he did so, and Merrick and I took him to the Master's office, and as Bannon followed some distance behind the prisoner turned round and said to him "I will murder you yet."
Prisoner. No, that is wrong.
JOHN WILLIAMS . I am an inmate of Poplar Workhouse—I was in the closet, and when I came out the prisoner said to me, that he would kill Mr. Bannon before he left—he did not say that Bannon had done anything to him or had been cruel to him; that was all he said.
Prisoner. I never spoke to you since I have been in the Union. Witness. You made that remark, and a man named Murphy and other inmates heard it—Murphy is not here.
JAMES MERRICK . I am porter at Poplar Workhouse—McAnliff and I took the prisoner to the master's office, and Bannon followed as well as he could—the prisoner turned round to him and said "You b——r, I will do for you yet"—I said "You will not get the chance."
Cross-examined. I did not hear the sound of Bannon kicking your behind, he had not the power and he was 2 or 3 yards away—I am sure he did not do so.
THOMAS GRAY . I am a surgeon of Montague Place, Poplar—I examined Bannon's neck and found a contused wound about 2 inches long and 1 1/2 inches deep just at the base of the skull—this hammer would produce it—it must have been a very violent blow and it was in a dangerous part.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not mean to murder him, but I hit him with the hammer I know. (The prisoner handed in a statement criticising the evidence given before the Magistrate, and attempting to justify the act by the statement that Bannon had ordered him ten bushels of stone to break instead of seven. The Court cautioned him that he was injuring himself and only parts of the statement were read.)
DAVID MCAULIFF (re-examined.) I thought before the Magistrate that the second hammer was a complete hammer; in the excitement of the moment, I did not know whether the head was on or off—I was recalled and explained that it was a hammer handle which the prisoner took up the second time—the one I took from him I gave to Williams to hold and went back with Merrick into the stone yard a second time.
By a Juror. He held the hammer up like this (over his head), it was not resting on his shoulder.
JOHN BANNON (re-examined.) I have authority to order any quantity of stones to break from seven to ten bushels, and to a young man like the prisoner I generally give the full task—he has no fault in regard to muscle or strength, and there was no difficulty in his doing the full task—four men were stone breaking, two were old and another had something the matter with him; I gave them seven bushels each.
GUILTY .— Penal Servitude for Life. THE COURT ordered a reward of 10l. to be given to McAuliff.
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER the Defence.
JOHN WHITE . I am a porter, and live at 52, Redhill Street, Regent's Park—on 18th September, between 7 o'clock and 7.30, I was crossing St. Pancras Road from Brewer Street—it was a very dark night, and it was very dark under the arches—I saw a woman crossing the road in the same direction as myself, and a few paces in front of me. (The witness pointed out the position upon a, plan.) She was going towards Battle Bridge, and was about 3 yards from the Obelisk—I had just put my foot on the kerb as she stepped off—I saw a Hansom cab coming on its proper side of the road at about six miles an hour, and it knocked the woman down—I ran to her assistance and got behind the cab and said "Cabman, you have got a woman under your
horse"—he said "Nonsense, hang on behind and the horse will get up"—I assisted the woman up and took her to the hospital—the prisoner was the driver—I cannot say whether he had a lamp on his cab.
Cross-examined. The horse fell after the woman was knocked down—there were a good many tram trains about, one had just passed it and carried a light which would, I think, come before the cabman—I do not think the prisoner was in fault—it must have occurred—I should have stopped till the horse had passed, I mean that she ought not to have gone ever—he might not have seen her, because he might have been turning his head at the time—the woman wore a dark brown dress—I was about 4 or 5 paces from her, and about the same distance from the horse as she was—the prisoner was a little the worse for liquor—I know that by the way he spoke when he got down—he said that he did not believe there was a woman under the cab, and when he saw her he seemed to be taken all over at once with excitement—I swear that he spoke thick—there is a kerb there—there is another obelisk where you cross to go to Camden Town, it was not there.
Cross-examined. The arch is not very dark—there are fourteen lamps under it, and two outside—there is a tram there every fourteen minutes—I did not see the accident, but I saw the blood, which was 14 feet from the nearest gas lamp, which was alight when I went up fourteen or fifteen minutes after the accident.
THOMAS WILLIAM THOMPSON . I was house surgeon at the Royal Free Hospital—on Saturday, 19th September, about 8.30, a woman was brought in dead—she had a double fracture of the spine, which caused death.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. C. MATTHEWS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LILLY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
JOHN WOOD . I live in Stebbendalo Street, and am a miller—on the 7th September I was outside of the Pier Tavern, Manchester Road—the deceased, who was a milk man, came in with a can in his hand—he was followed by three dogs—he was in there from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour—I saw him come out—he looked round and went back a second time—the prisoner followed him out, walked deliberately up to him, struck him in the face with his fist, and knocked him down on the pavement—the prisoner held his head down and said "See what the old beggar has done, he has cut my head with the milk can"—I saw him bleeding down the back part of his neck—he then made another attack on the deceased and knocked him down again on the road—he got up again and the prisoner went at him, struck him, and knocked him down a third time, and while he was lying in the road he kicked him—the deceased got up, placed his hand on his hip, and walked away—I saw that the deceased had a cut over his left eye the second time he was knocked down—I judge his age to be about fifty.
Cross-examined. This was between 7 and 8 p.m.—I don't know what happened in the public-house, but he told me that the man had struck him on the head with a milk pail—I can't say whether Chant heard that.
MARY ADAMS . I am barmaid at the Pier Tavern—on this evening Chant came in to deliver milk, I saw one dog with him—the prisoner was in the house and was teasing the dog in some way, and as Chant was going out the prisoner touched him on the head or on the hat with his hand, in play I suppose, and Chant turned round and struck him with the milk can—Chant went out and the prisoner followed him.
Cross-examined. The prisoner seemed to touch him in fun, and then Chant struck him with his milk can and cut his head open.
ABNER DAVIS . I am an iron-bolt maker—on the evening of 10th September, between 7 and 8 o'clock, I saw the prisoner and Chant and several more in the Pier Tavern—there was a dog there—some words passed between the prisoner and Chant and the prisoner struck Chant on the top of his head with his hand—he did not say anything then, but afterwards he said "You b——y old sod, you have cut my head"—that was after the milk can—the prisoner followed him out—I went out and the prisoner knocked him down on the pavement, and then he knocked him down in the road, and then he knocked him down a third time and kicked him, I think in the stomach—somebody said "The old man is dying," and I helped to carry him into a surgery—I saw him dead on the Monday following.
Cross-examined. Chant had a straw hat on—it might have been two minutes after the blow with the milk can that the prisoner struck Chant outside, he followed him out and pushed him out and struck him at once—he never returned to the house.
WILLIAM PARIS . I am a labourer—I was outside the Pier Tavern between 7 and 8 o'clock when Chant came out followed by the prisoner—I saw him put his hand up, and saw blood running from his head—he said "You b—y old swine, you had better cut my head open at once"—the prisoner struck him down, and be got up and conversed with him—the prisoner said that he should not have done it if he had not struck him with the milk can, and then he fetched him down again—he lay for a minute and got up, and then the young one knocked him down again, and kicked him after he was down—the women hissed, and said "What a shame to kick an old gentleman after he is down—I did not like to interfere as perhaps I should have got a mark myself—the old man went away for seven or eight minutes, but I found him lying on his back about 38 yards from where he was knocked down—we picked him up, he was bleeding from the back part of his head and from his mouth—we took him to a doctor's and then in a little trap to his own place—he did not seem sensible, and he never opened his mouth to either of us.
CHARLES WYATT SMITH . I am a licentiate of the Apothecaries' Company—I was called to Chant's house on September 11th, in the afternoon, and found him perfectly unconscious with torturous breathing—he was suffering from concussion of the brain—there was a mark on his head and a mark behind his left ear—he died about 11 o'clock the same' evening—I made a post-mortem examination on the Sunday; there were no external marks on the body, only on the head—death was caused by extravasation of blood on the brain, which was just underneath the blow behind the ear.
Cross-examined. I searched the body for marks of kicks but found none.
of Chant—he said "Yes, I will go with you quiet"—on the way to the station he said "I knocked him down, but I did not kick him."
GUILTY under great provocation— Six Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, October 29th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
ALFRED HOLDER . I live at 28, Norton Folgate, and am a licensed victualler—I knew the prisoner as an occasional customer—I have my business cards at the back of the bar, and sometimes they are lying about, so that a customer can take one—my washing was sent to Mrs. Keagle, of Union Street—she lives next door to a rag shop—on 3rd October I sent my barman to Mrs. Keagle for the washing—he came back without it, and brought this card—it is one of my business cards—the writing on it is not mine, nor was it written by my direction—the value of the linen was 3l. 10s.—after 3rd October, and before the prisoner was taken, he was at my house on three or four occasions—I had seen a little boy named Nevin, who gave me a very accurate description of the man to whom he gave the things, and I asked the boy to my house, that he might see the men, but on two occasions the prisoner had left the house before the boy could come—on Friday, 9th October, the prisoner was in the house, and I got the boy there—I asked him which was the man, and he pointed the prisoner out to me, and said "That is the man"—I had fixed on the prisoner from the description the boy gave me—I told the prisoner, about half an hour previous to that, that I believed he had been robbing me—I charged him with having fetched the clothes from the laundress, and I said I would not let him go till the boy came—he said "Do as you like"—he was perfectly indifferent—I gave him in custody afterwards. (Card read: "Please send all the things you have got done.")
Cross-examined. As far as I know the clothes were got from the laundress by the boy on the Saturday—I have not been in the habit of sending different people for my washing—I know the potman has been, but not other people—I have seen my cards blowing over the bar and lying about the floor—between the Saturday and the day I gave the prisoner in custody, with one or two exceptions, he was in my house every day—the boy gave me a description, and I made up my mind that he was the man from that description—when the boy came I said "Show me the man," or I might have said "Which is the man"—I won't undertake to swear that I did not say. "Is not that the man?"—I don't think I did—he was standing in one of the boxes—there were about a dozen people there—I don't think any of them are here—the prisoner told me he did not know anything about it—I think the boy said he received the card from the man between 5 and 6 o'clock—I have not noticed that the boy has made two different statements with regard to the time—I did not go with the constable to the station; I followed shortly afterwards—I never remember the boy telling me or saying it was between 3 and 4 o'clock—I had never seen the boy before to my knowledge—the laundress found him—my barman is here—on the Satur-day the goods were got from the laundress the prisoner was in my bar—I
was not at home in the afternoon—I think it was 6.30 I got home, and the prisoner came in shortly afterwards—I did not ask the boy whether he had ever seen the man before—he said he was a young man, and had a dark suit of clothes and a soft crowned hat; a pale-faced man, thin, and no whiskers—that was all the description, and I made up my mind the prisoner was the thief before I sent for the boy, because I had my suspicions—I have never seen the boy in my house before—his father and mother, I believe, are respectable hardworking people.
Re-examined. The prisoner came in shortly after I had come home on the Saturday, and that was the first time I had seen him that day—the boy's description led me to suspect the prisoner.
CAROLINE KEAGLE . I live at 15, Union Street—I am laundress and wash for Mr. Holder—on Saturday, 3rd. October, the boy Nevin came to my house nearer 5 than 4 o'clock—he brought Mr. Holder's card with his name and address on one side and on the other a request that I was to send all that was ready—I packed up the linen and it was given to the boy; I saw him go away with it—about 9 o'clock the same night Mr. Holder's barman came for the linen—I told him I had had a card and gave it to him—I have seen the prisoner before—he has come frequently to my place to bring linen and fetch it away for Mr. Holder, sent by the barman.
Cross-examined. I did not ask the boy who sent him with the card—I thought the card was quite sufficient—I naturally supposed he had been sent by Mr. Holder or the barman—when I saw the boy afterwards I asked him what sort of man it was—he said it was a young man dressed in dark clothes with one of those loose round-looking hats, that was all—I made it my business to inquire the description of the man, and I got the best description I could from the boy.
WILLIAM WHITMORE . I am barman to Mr. Holder—I know the prisoner as a customer at the house—I have sent him to Mrs. Keagle's with some washing and to fetch some on two occasions—the potman has also been for things, but no one else—on this Saturday I went to Mrs. Keagle's late at night, and instead of the washing I received this card—I gave it Mr. Holder when I got home—the prisoner was in the house. on the afternoon of 3rd October, the day the washing was fetched—I think he left about 4.45—I think he was in again the same night later, but I can hardly swear to that.
Cross-examined. I was behind the bar when the boy was brought in—he was asked to recognise the prisoner—the prisoner was in the house at 4.30 on the Saturday afternoon—I recollect that he gave me fourpenny worth of coppers for a fourpenny piece—I should say he stayed till nearly 5 o'clock—he has been a constant customer, in and out at all times—he was there in the same way between the Saturday and the day the boy was brought in to see him—I should not think it is a mile from Norton Folgate to Union Street where the laundress lives—I could not swear the distance—it is Union Street, Hackney Road—I can walk it in about ten minutes.
CHARLES NEVIN . I live at 9, South Street, with my father and mother—I am eleven years old—on Saturday afternoon, 3rd October, I was standing at the corner of Union Street—the prisoner came up to me and said "Please will you take that note next door to the rag shop"—he gave me this card and I took it to Mrs. Keagle's—I did not see Mrs. Keagle, I saw the daughter, and the boy brought the clothes out—I went back to the prisoner and gave him the things—he said "It is all right my boy, here is 2d. for
you," and he gave me 2d.—he went down the Hackney Road towards Shoreditch Church, and I walked after him some distance—I am quite sure he is the man—I had never seen him before he spoke to me in the street—before I saw him again I gave a description of him to Mrs. Keagle—I was sent for on the Friday and I saw a number of men in the bar with the prisoner—Mr. Holder said "That is the man," but I knew him before he asked me—I said he was the man loud enough for him to hear—he said nothing to that.
Cross-examined. Directly I said he was the man Mr. Holder turned round and said "I shall take you into custody;" and told him what for—he said "You can do as you like"—it was between 4 and 5 o'clock that he spoke to me—I did not tell anybody it was between 3 and 4 o'clock—it was about 4.30—I am not sure that the clock had struck four—I may have made a mistake about the time—I like to earn a penny or two pence to buy sweets I—often run errands for people—I have not done anything like this before, or delivered a parcel or got one for anybody—I have run and delivered messages and had pennies for it—I told Mr. Holder he was a tallish man, then in the face and had on a round hat and a short black coat—I did not say a dark coat—Shoreditch church is about five minutes walk from Union Street—I walked behind the man—I did not stop to buy some sweets, I went down Shoreditch to buy some pudding.
THOMAS LAPTHORN (Policeman G 70). I took the prisoner at Mr. Holder's house on Friday 9th October—he made no answer to the charge—I found on him a little pocket book and three duplicates, but they have nothing to do with this case.
Cross-examined. He did not appear frightened or excited—he took it very comfortably—I made inquiries about him and I have no reason to believe that he is anything else than a respectable man—he gave me a correct name and address—he had only been at his lodgings a short time.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I was in the public-house on the Saturday afternoon, but I left at 4.25 and went to Fish Street Hill to borrow some money—I then went home to tea and then to a fire, and then returned to the public-house—I returned to the fire and then to the public-house and remained there till they closed—I was constantly in the public-house till the Friday they took me—Holder asked the boy if I was was the man and the boy said "Yes"—Holder pointed me out to the boy—the boy told me it happened between 5 and 6 o'clock and I called the constable's attention to it and put it down in my pocket book.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT—Thursday, October 29th, 1874.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN SIMMONS . I am the wife of Mr. Robert Simmons, and live at 39,. St. Leonard's Road—last Saturday fortnight the prisoner brought me this advance note for 14l. and asked me to cash it—I gave him 12 guineas for it—I saw him write his name on the back (Note read: "London, October 10th, 1873. Three days after the S. S. Briton leaves the English Channel
pay to the order of Henry Butler, second engineer, provided he Bails in said ship, one month's advance of wages, 14l. Henry Johnson, manager. Payable at Messrs. Kiel and Co., 10, Austin Friars, London."
THOMAS NORMAN (Detective Officer K). I took the prisoner into custody—I told him the charge—he said "Oh, it is all right, I can take you to the ship at once"—I told him it was useless to talk like that as inquiries had been made, and there was no such ship in the port of London—he turned to the prosecutrix and asked her to forgive him, he would make up all the money he possibly could and pay her the rest as soon as he could—he said he wrote the note himself—I have been to 12, Austin Friars, and I find there is no such firm as that, and I have inquired at the Board of Trade and there is no such ship as the steamship Briton.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am very sorry—I was in trouble at the time. The prosecutrix said if I would pay her back she would not prosecute me.
Prisoner. I did not do it with the intent to defraud her or any other person—I was in debt at the time—she had been in the habit of lending me money—I owed her a little, and other people, and I had the promise of a ship, and I thought when I signed I would pay her that money and tell her the truth.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
484. FREDERICK CHURCH (26), RHODA BURCHILL (26), and WILLIAM WHITE (34), Were indicted for a burglary in the dwelling-house of William Levin Miller, and stealing therein two flannel dressing gowns and other goods.
MR. WARNER SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MR. MOODY defended Church; and MR. A. B. KELLY defended Burchill and White.
WILLIAM LEVIN MILLER . I live at No. 20, Belsize Park, Hampstead—I know the prisoner White—in the month of June, 1872, he, amongst others, was engaged at my house as a painter—on the 10th March, 1873, there was a burglary at my house, and in March, 1874, the same thing occurred again—on the 31st March I left ray house about 8 o'clock and I returned home between 11 and 12 o'clock—I found my bedroom door locked on the inside, it was forced open by the police, who were sent for—these (produced) are part of the goods, and their value is about 20l.—at the time the burglary took place in March the things were nearly new—they look as if they had been worn since—their original value was nearly 70l.—by lifting one another on the shoulder they could get into my room from the garden—I have seen White several times between the two robberies, passing opposite and looking towards the house—the same servants are in my house now as were there at the time of the first burglary—the window is in the same state with regard to the marks upon it, as it was—it has not been touched since upon the night of the robbery I saw the marks upon the window.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I no not know that White worked about that neighbourhood generally as a painter; he may have done so.
ELIZA TATTAM . I am cook in the service of Mr. Miller—I have known White since the summer of 1872—I have seen him many times since then—he has been upon the premises, all round the house—the kitchen is in the front of the house with a side door at the entrance—he has worked at our house since—he has been in the habit of coming to the side door to
speak to me—I refused his coming at last—I told him he must not keep coming there—I have seen him since the time of the burglary in March of this year about the premises, passing the house, not at the side of the house—he has not come to speak to me as he used to do since the last robbery—I have not seen him at the house since the last robbery.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. He was working in the house painting in 1872—he has not been there working since the job was finished in 1872—he used to come to the side door to talk—this was not in the day time, but at night, after dinner—he came without being invited, he was not wanted—I have frequently told him not to come, but when he came I chatted with him; other people never used to come there, only in the way of business—since the last burglary I have seen him pass in the road as any other man—I did not see him after that about the garden or side door.
Re-examined. There was no necessity for his coining; that is where our suspicion was—there was no cause for his coming, he was not wanted—he was absolutely in the side garden at times.
FANNY POTTER . I am housemaid in Mr. Miller's service—on the 23rd September I went down with Sergeant Shaw to Commercial Road East—there we met Burchill—she had on a hat and polonaise belonging to Mrs. Miller—I and the detective went as far as 16, Hardinge Street, to the door—on our way we met Church—Burchill went into the house—we all four went into the bouse then—I saw the property now produced which is part of the property stolen—I saw the piece of fur. trimming found in a box; that was looked—Church gave up the keys—he said the box belonged to him—the articles I have seen are the property of my mistress.
EDWIN SHAW (Detective). On the 23rd September I was in company with Detective Sergeant Morgan and Fanny Potter—I met Burchill in Commercial Road East—Potter, in her. presence, said that the hat and polonaise belonged to her mistress—I told Burchill I should take her into custody for being concerned with others in stealing a quantity of wearing apparel from Belsize Park—she said "I bought them at a wardrobe shop"—on approaching the house I met Church—he addressed the woman—he said "What's up?"—I told him we were officers, and we were going to search 16, Hardinge Street—we all four went into the house—I left Church there with Sergeant Morgan and the witness Fanny Potter, and I went for assistance, because she became violent—then I went back and took her to Arbour Square Station—I then returned, searched the house, and in a cupboard in the back parlour found some of the property produced—in the cupboard, under a box, we found a red flannel dressing gown and a polonaise and a black silk body—I found the implements produced in a basket—they are implements that are used by carpenters, also by housebreakers "—I went into the back kitchen downstairs, Church followed me—he said "You can look round; I am glad you have come; I might have got into trouble"—he assisted me in opening the drawers—I went to the room at the top of the house—there was a lot of furniture on top of one another, bed and bedstead, chairs, and a box, all in one room—I did not go into the other room—there were one or two lodgers in the house—he said that he rented the top room.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I identify a number of articles; with the exception of the tools, they are nearly all articles of ladies wearing apparel—I was told that the ground floor and basement were the only two parts of the house that Church actually occupied—that is what he said, and that
other parts were in the occupation of other persons, except the top room—I had to take the box out of the cupboard before I could see the other articles—they were in the back parlour where the female was living—the cupboard was open—there was a box and compass and lot a of nails there.
DANIEL MORGAN (Detective Sergeant). On the 23rd September I met Burchill in the Commercial Road—we went to the house, 16, Hardinge Street, with her—we met Church just before we got to the house—I told him who we were and that the female prisoner with us was in custody 'charged with felony, that the hat and dress she was wearing were stolen property, and that we had reason to believe that she lived at 16, Hardinge Street, and we were going there to search it—he said "I am the landlord of that house, she does not live there; what is there belongs to me"—by that time we got to the house—I asked him what rooms he occupied in the house, and told him that I wished to search those rooms—he pointed out two parlour and said "I occupy those two rooms and the two kitchens beneath"—he remarked several times that Burchill did not live there, and said that whatever things were there belonged to him and not to her—I went inside and told him I should search for stolen property, that I had reason to believe there was stolen property there—he said "I shall object, and before you search you must first obtain a warrant"—I said "There is no time for that," and I showed him a card to satisfy him who we were, and told him that he could have his remedy if I did search—Burchill was very violent and the sergeant went for assistance—Fanny Potter was present, Mrs. Miller's servant—she said "I do not live here, do I Fred?"—he said "No"—she said "There is nothing here belonging to me"—he said "No"—she said "I live at 59; Helen St.; why don't you go there and search"—I went there afterwards and saw the shop—at that time we only found the things she was wearing, and I told them over and over that I should search the house in every part, and she said "What things I have are what my brother gave me"—then I searched—I pointed out a large box marked "F. C," and said "I want to see the contents"—Church pulled out the keys—I said "Will you hand the keys to me"—he said "No"—I said "Then I shall force the box open," with that he opened the box himself—I took out two or three things and found the piece of fur which Potter identified—I told Church I should charge him with being concerned with others in stealing this, with other articles, on the 31st March last—he hesitated a minute or two, then said "It is not me, Mr. Morgan, I know nothing about it; it is William White, Rhoda's brother, who brought the things here"—I then found the cash-box (produced) in a cupboard in the same room—I asked him who that belonged to—he said "It is not mine; it was brought here by White, the same person who brought the other things"—I asked him for the key—he said "I have no key, it is not mine"—I told him I should force it open and I did so, and found forty-one duplicates, and amongst them one relating to the counterpane produced by the pawnbroker, pledged 13th August, in the name of Rhoda White—that is part of the property identified by Mr. Miller and his servant, also a suit of clothing identified by Mr. Miller—the dressing-gown pledged on the 1st April, the day after the robbery, the pawnbrokers will produce—it was pledged in the name of White of Sydney Street—in the same cupboard was found the tools by Shaw—they are the sort of tools used by burglars in breaking into houses, and also used as
carpenter's tools—Sergeant Shaw found the tools in the same cupboard as I found this, and when he pulled them out Church remarked "Those tools are mine; they have nothing at all to do with the keys"—I took possession of them—I was present also when Sergeant Shaw found the other articles in the cupboard—Burchill by that time had been taken away by Shaw to Arbour Square, she was so violent; and Shaw had returned—we were there an hour or two, or more than that—I then put Church into a cab to take him to the police-station—on the way he gave me a certain address, and wrote it down in my pocket-book—he said "I am not the man who committed this offence; it is the same man I spoke of before"—in consequence of his giving me that address, I went to Clifton and found the prisoner White Irving at that address, but I did not apprehend him at that address—I told him he was charged with Rhoda Burchill and Frederiok Church in breaking into Mr. Miller's house—he said he was taken by surprise, and knew nothing about it—I forgot to mention that when Burchill was apprehended she had two keys in her hand, one of which opened the door of 16, Hardinge Street—I went to 50, Bellevue Crescent, the address given to roe at Clifton, and found the prisoner White lived there—I apprehended him the same evening, but found nothing relating to the robbery—I brought him up to London and charged him the following day—this is One of the keys I found on Burchill—she told me she lived at 59, Helen Street—I went there—I found the key fitted number 59—upstairs In a drawer I found the blue silk body identified—next door, number 55, at the witness Mackintosh's, I found this polonaise—these articles have all been identified—on Monday the "28th I went to the prosecutors house—some marks was pointed out to me by Police Constable Sharman, who examined the premisses at the time of the robbery, and this instrument found in the cupboard fits it exactly—there were two marks about a quarter of an inch deep—at 16, Hardinge Street I found some cards in the name of Field and Co.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. That is the instrument I took up when I went to look—the marks were at the bottom of the window—all this had been done on the 31st March, and the time I went to look at it was the 28th September.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. When Shaw charged Burchill she said "I have bought those articles"—when she spoke to Church she said she did not live there, but at 59, Helen Street—Church said she did not live at 16, Hardinge Street—with that key I opened the door at 59, Helen Street, in the presence of Mackintosh—this tool is a screw driver—I have no doubt a thousand of a similar kind might be produced, whether the same width in the bit or not I cannot say.
Re-examined. We had only found the things Burchill was wearing, and when they found I was determined to search, she said "The things were brought here by my brother."
JOHN JARMAN (Policeman L). I saw the bedroom on the night of the burglary or the morning after—I saw the state of the marks at the bottom—I gave some directions to Mr. Miller with regard to those marks—I have seen them since that instrument has been found, and examined it with them—they are exactly in the same state as on the 31st March as to size and appearance of violence—I saw that instrument tried—it fits exactly from the outside, praising up.
broker of 303, Commercial Road East—I have got a ticket of the 1st April for a suit and dressing gown, 18s., pledged in the name of Anne White, 13, Sidney Street, and a counterpane, pledged in the name of Rhoda White, 16, Hardinge Street—I do not know who pledged them.
ROBERT WILSON . I am an assistant to Messrs. George and Thomas Vespers, 13 and 14, Sidney Place, Commercial Road East—I have a ticket dated 21st September for a silk dress trimmed with velvet, pledged in the name of Rhoda White, 16, Hardinge Street, Commercial Road East—it was pledged by a man of the name of Witty—it had been pledged before that several times by a female giving the name of Rhoda White; that is the female prisoner.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I know her—she had been in the habit of coming to our house and pledging things in her own name.
EDWARD COLLERS PEROT . I am an assistant to Mr. Joseph Hookey Tarrant, of 38, Cable Street—I produce a ticket of an ermine jacket pledged in the name of Anne James, 1, Backchurch Lane—to the best of my belief the woman is not the prisoner.
MARY ANNE MACKINTOSH . I am a widow—I reside at 59, Helen Street, Commercial Road East—I know the prisoners Church and Burchill—about five months ago I asked Burchill to lend me a white ermine jacket—that is part of the property I have seen identified—it was in pledge—she lent me the ticket of it and I wore it—I have known Church and Burchill for a considerable time as living in the same house together—at times I have known them living at 16, Hardinge Street, together—I have been there and seen them living there together.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I remember about the 14th November, when Burchill was confined—I was in her place at that time—I was barmaid there—I remember a transaction about buying a sealskin jacket at that date—a man brought it into the bar—on the day that it was bought Mrs. Church said to me "A man brought a ticket of a jacket here, and I told him I did not like buying a ticket of a jacket, but if he would get the jacket out of pledge, and bring it in the course of the day, I would buy it if it suited me"—I do not know that I should know the man again, but I remember a man brought it while I was there—the mistress was upstairs—he said "Will you take the jacket up?"and Mrs. Church said "Will you put it on?"and I put it on, and she said to me "Do you think it is dear at five pounds?"—I said "I do not know the value of these articles"—she said "I cannot afford that much money," and told me to ask if he would take 4l. 10s.—he said "I am only getting 10s. out of it," and he stood considering it for about ten minutes in the little private bar, and she handed me the money, part from a drawer and part from under her pillow—I saw the sealskin jacket bought and paid for—I handed the money.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I was examined at the police-court by Church—I have never seen him in any bad company; far the reverse—he is a stanch teetotaller—I have known him to be away at Bromley with relatives four or five months at a time—he was in the habit of coming home for his clothes; he was highly connected—on two occasions he was in
business as a licenced victualler—I also knew that he has been employed as public-house broker on his own account—I could not say whether he was living with Burchill about the end of March, because I never went near them when they lived in Helen Street—it was a month after they moved into Hardinge Street.
Re-examined. The jacket I borrowed was a white ermine jacket—at that time she was living at Hardinge Street—it was just before Whitsuntide that I borrowed it—at that time I knew them intimately—within the last six months or so, Mr. Church has been doing auctioneering and brokering in company in his own house—I have been always given to understand that they have been able to support themselves—he has not told me whether the business has been brisk or slack, but, there have been a number of gentlemen coming backwards and forwards, and I have been there and he has received letters from gentlemen and customers and so on—two gentlemen came the day I was there—I never saw White at the house.
THE COURT considered that there was no evidence to go to the Jury against White, and he was discharged.
Witnesses for Church,
MARY ANN WILLIAMS . I am a widow lady of independent means living at Keston, near Bromley—I have known Church and his family, and can speak very highly of them, and moreover, if I am allowed to say, he was at my house previous to and long after this dreadful affair—he was there wholly during the month of March, and during the whole of April.
Cross-examined. I do not know the female prisoner at all—I never saw her—Church was at Keston the whole of March and April and the best part of February—he was on a visit to my son there at my house—Keston is I suppose 12 or 13 miles from London—he only came up to London with my son to my other residence in Cannon Street—he did not come up on the 31st of March—I know because I remember the day well—we had a sort of party there—of course he was at this party being my guest—he did not come up to London the next day, hot the next—my son was ill, he had a nervous attack—he was staying all the time with him—I do not recollect that he went up to London once during the month of March—he might have gone—I certainly do undertake to swear that he did not go up to London a dozen times in March—I can almost swear he did not come at all—the grounds are large and he stayed in all day without going out—I really means to say that he stayed in my house and grounds all day, and every day without ever moving out—strange as it may seem, it is so—his father is independent—he is always well cared for, and for what I know has kept good company until this—he has money of his own for his living.
Re-examined. He is a friend of my son's—my son is here to-day, not the one he visited, he is ill.
EDWARD WILLIAMS . I am the son of the last witness—I was not residing with my mother in the month of April last—I was not visiting her—my brother who was to have been here is unwell, and unable to attend as a witness, he is the brother with whom Church was staying at the time.
Cross-examined. I was not at home in March or April—I was at my own place at Bow.
CHARLES CHURCH . I am a brother of the prisoner—I am living at Keston, the same place as Mrs. Williams—I manage the firm of Williams and Son in Cannon Street—my brother has been in business as a licensed
victualler—he has been landlord of two houses to my knowledge—he gave up the last business sometime in 1873, I think—since then he has been with a Mr. Lingard an auctioneer and public-house broker—he has been with him learning that business for some length of time—I was living at Keston in March last—my brother was staying with Mrs. Williams at Keston in March—Mrs. William's son is in bad health—he was staying with the son on account of his bad health for three months from the beginning of February to the end of April—I saw him every night as I returned from business—the train I return by starts at 6.55 from Cannon Street and gets down at 9 o'clock—I do not remember missing him on any one occasion—up to this charge I never heard a word said against my brother's character—he has always conducted himself to my knowledge in a most satisfactory manner, and his education has been such as to warrant it—he never drinks—he is a teetotaler.
Cross-examined. I do not remember any date in March when I saw my brother in London—he used to come up with Williams at the time, Mr. William Williams; if he ever came up at all—not very often—I did not know that he had a house at 16, Hardinge Street—I knew he was acquainted with the woman Burchill—I did not know his address at all—he got his living from the last public-house he was in—I mean that he lived upon the proceeds of the sale of it, he let his house to some person—I do not know of any other business he was in after he retired from the public-house—(Card handed to witness) I know nothing of this—I never saw it before—I did not know that he carried on an ostensible business under the firm of "Field and Son"—I had no idea that he was in business in any way whatever on his own responsibility—the only thing I knew was that He was seeking a business—he was not seeking employment but seeking a business, seeking to get another public-house.
HENRY JOHN LINGARD . I am an auctioneer and public-house broker—I have known Church, I may say, all his life—I have known his family for twenty years—he was with his father at the Blue Anchor and expressed a wish to me to come into my business—I do not know whether it was the latter end of 1871 or the commencement of 1872—he came with me and stayed about nine months—he wanted to be taught the business—he commenced with me at the end of 1871 or the beginning of 1872—afterthathis father granted him an under lease of the house—he took the public-house his father occupied for twenty years—I did the business on that occasion—his brother had a third and he had two-thirds, and he remained in that house I should think ten or twelve months—I sold the house for him—I attended the "change"—he has not since then been working with me as a public-house broker—I bought another public-house for him in Clerkenwell since then, where he remained until within about six months of the present time—I have got no dates but it is about that time—until this charge I never heard a single blemish or imputation upon his character—while he was with me he was attentive and very assiduous—he was the first to come and the last to go, and I had opportunities of testing his honesty—to my knowledge he has always borne the character of a thoroughly respectable and honest young man.
Cross-examined. I should think he left Clerkenwell in an early month this year—I had nothing to do with the sale of that house—I bought the house—I think he gave 470l. for it—I do not suppose the father found the money for that—he himself had money from the Blue Anchor—I
handed him 300l. from his father's house—I know him intimately—I do not know where he has been living this last six months—I have heard that he has been living in some house in Hardinge Street—I knew that before this trial, because he sent a person in my employ letters respecting several houses—I heard of his advertising several houses to get a connexion in the business, but a private house is not adapted for that—I have not seen cards of his "Messrs. Field and Son, Public-house Brokers"—I have heard he had such cards.
Re-examined. Many persons commence in private houses. where they can, they cannot go and pay a hundred a year for offices in the city.
GEORGE CHURCH . I am the father of the prisoner Church—this screw driver I kept on purpose to undo the screws in front of the engine that works the beer—it is very hard to swear to tools—I was apprenticed to a sawmaker, but if these tools have not been in my possession for twenty or thirty years my eyes must deceive me—I have always had tools in my house—I left the house to my son—since then he has had another—I left the tools in the house—when he sold the house he did not sell it by "Lease and valuation," but to take away whatever he liked—up to this charge I never heard a word against my son's honesty—there was no cause, he always had me to come to, and his mother and I have lived in the parish ever since I was born, and if there is anything against me let them say so.
Re-examined. I do not know where my son lived when he was away from, home.
EMMA PRYOR . I live at No. 2, Queen Street, Hew Road, Whitechapel—I am married—I remember being at 125, Rutland Street, on the 30th March or 1st April—Burchill was living there at that time—I did not'see Church there—I did not see any articles brought to the rooms until the evening of the 1st April—on that evening I saw some things in the room—I had some conversation with Burchill about them. (Mr. Sleigh objected to the conversation, and the Court held it to be inadmissible.) I have since seen several of the articles that I saw there—Church was not there at the time—while I was with Burchill on that occasion a telegram came, on the Monday evening.
Cross-examined. I was there from the 30th March—I was charwoman—I began on the 30th and was off and on a great many times before the 31st March—Burchill lived there—I did not see any one else in the room she occupied—I never saw Church there at all—I was there from morning to night—Burchill was living at 125, Rutland Street on 30th March—I never saw Church—I removed the things to Hardinge Street on Friday, 3rd April—I believe Church came home, to Hardinge Street, on the Saturday evening, 4th April—he did not stay long—he just came home for his clean things and said he was going back in the country to his friends where he came from—he used often to come up for his clean things like that—I saw him several-times in April when I was there—I do not know whether he sometimes slept there—I was generally away at tea time—I cannot say that I left him there having tea with Burchill—I went about 8 o'clock in the morning—I never found him there having breakfast in April—I never prepared breakfast for him—I have for Burchill and gentlemen beside, but not for Mr. Church—I have prepared breakfast for two in April, but they were Mrs. Burchill and her daughter Emily, not Mr. Church—they did not remove until Friday, 3rd April—I went to make the house clean—I was not in 16, Hardinge Street in March—I do not know who was in that house on 31st March—I
do not know who had the keys—I did not see Mrs. Burchill go to that house on 31st March—she was ill in bed on the 1st April—Church did not come up to see her that week—I never saw him in Rutland Street—I do not know Mr. White—I never saw him until at Hampstead and here—to my knowledge I never saw him at Hardinge Street.—he was not there on the night of 3rd April—I do not know that I saw him at all—I saw two gentlemen at 125, Rutland Street, but could not swear to the gentlemen—I cannot swear to either.
Re-examined. I began as charwoman on the 30th March—I went in the morning and left at tea time—in Hardinge Street I saw Church—he came for his clothes, but not to stay—he mentioned at the time that he was going to return to the country and that he came for his clean clothes.
CHURCH received a good character.
CHURCH and BURCHILL PLEADED GUILTY of receiving.
The Jury recommended Church to mercy on account of his good character.
CHURCH— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
BURCHILL— Six Months' Imprisonment.
WHITE— NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Friday, October 30th, 1874.
Before Mr. Justice Denman.
MR. MILLWOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, October 30th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
486. ROBERT THORNLEY (36) , Feloniously uttering a forged Bill of Exchange for 100l. with intent to defraud. Second Count—Causing money to be paid on forged documents with intent to defraud. Other Counts varying the mode of charge.
MESSRS. POLAND and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
Cross-examined. I have been managing the prosecution under Mr. Mullens' directions—we have not employed an expert in handwriting and submitted the bills to him.
ALBERT KAULLA . I am one of the Managers of the Royal Bank of Wurtemburg at Stutgard and one of the correspondents of Messrs. Baring, Brothers and Co., of London—we have been in the habit of honouring Baring Brothers, letters of credit for a great many years past—this (produced.) is one of their forms—I was at the bank on the 19th June—the prisoner came on that day between 4 and 6 o'clock with a letter of credit on Messrs. Baring Brothers for 2,000l., dated 12th May and numbered 2,973—he first asked me if there was any one spoke English and I said I did—he first asked for 400l. upon the letter of credit, and I gave it to him through a cashier—the letter of credit was in the name of Matthews—there was a previous payment on it on the 19th May of 500l. by Brugmann
and Son, of Brussels—these four bills were prepared by a clerk in the office before the money was paid—I asked the prisoner to sign them, which he did in my presence—after he had signed them I sent him to the cashier and he paid him the money over—the payment of the 400l. was endorsed on the letter of credit and it was given back to him—this is one of the four bills. (Bead: "Stutgard, June 19, 1874, for 100l. sterling at three days' sight, pay this first of exchange to the order of the Royal Bank of Wurtemburg, the amount of 100l. sterling value received, and pass advice of as per letter of credit of 12th May, No. 2,973, Messrs. Baring Brothers and Co., 'R. F. Matthews'"—the bills are endorsed by myself or some gentleman who has the right to sign them—two of the bills were forwarded to one of our correspondents and two were kept back—they would have been circulated, but we were advised by the police that a forgery had been committed—I came to this country three weeks ago, and on the following Monday, two days after I arrived, I went to the prison here—I was shown into some place were there were about a dozen people walking—I looked at them and after a time I said to the gentleman who was there "I know now that man"—I recognised the prisoner—he was changed in his appearance—he was shaved and his face was not so red as it was in Stutgard—he had a little moustache when he came to the Bank—that was shaved off—I have no doubt about his being the man.
Cross-examined. The interview of 19th June took place in the principal office of the Bank—there were two other managers there besides myself and three or four clerks—one gentleman passed through while the man was there—he was a person living at Stutgard—some clerk filled up the bills—they are regular printed forms in French—another clerk paid him the money—I gave the pen to the man to sign the bills and I saw him write the name of "Matthews" four times—I am accustomed to see signatures—I watched him closely during, the time he was writing and he wrote easily—he received back the letter of credit as soon as he had signed the bills—I can't tell you who endorsed them, sometimes that is done by the principal and sometimes by the clerks—there were three or four of us engaged in the matter—when I went to Newgate I saw the criminals in the yard walking one behind the other—I think there were about a dozen; I did not count them—I think they went round more than four of five times—the Governor said to me "Have you done?"—they had been round more than four times before he spoke to me—they walked round several times more and I said "Now I have done, this is the man"—the man who had written in my presence had a beard and a moustache—the signature was written with a steel pen if I remember, but I really don't know exactly; we very seldom use quill pens.
Re-examined. The man was in the office on the Friday, and the following Monday I received information that the letter of credit was a forgery—we telegraphed to Messrs. Baring, and from that time inquiries were made—I remembered the man at that time.
By THE COURT. When he was in the Bank he had his hat on, and he took it off for a minute, and afterwards he put it on again—when I saw the prisoner in Newgate he had his hat on.
MORITZ FRANCUCKEL . I am a partner in the firm of Haas Brothers, bankers, at Carlsruhe—we are one of the correspondents of Baring Brothers, Co., of London, and pay letters of credit issued by them—this is one of their forms—Carlsruhe is about nine German miles from Stutgard—on 20th
June last I was at the Bank when a person presented a letter of credit far 2,000l., No. 2,973, and dated 12th May—the prisoner is the man—he asked me if I spoke English; I said "A little, some words"—then he presented the letter of credit, and asked for 400l.—it was one of Baring's letters of credit—it had been endorsed for 200l. paid by Messrs. Brugmann, of Brussels—I gave him the 400l., and he signed this bill, which is written by my partner—I endorsed the letter of credit with the payment of 400l., and gave it back to him, as I was obliged to do, because only 600l. had been paid on it—the last one keeps it—the next morning we heard from the police at Frankfort that a false letter of credit had been presented, and we sent a dispatch to Baring Brothers—we had sent the bill to Mr. Rydal, our correspondent—I came to this country about 16th October—I went first to the German Consul, and he sent me to the Police Court—I saw the prisoner on the third day of my arrival—he was with ten or twelve others at Guildhall—the first moment I looked at them the prisoner appeared to know me—he had his hat on, and I asked him to take it off, and then I was sure he was the man—he was changed in his appearance—he bad no beard then, and when he was at Carlsruhe in my counting-house he had a moustache and beard—I am sure he is the man.
Cross-examined. I can't say whether I gave the pen to the man who wrote "R. F. Matthews"—a pen was given to him to write—it was a steel pen—I saw him write it, and he wrote it with facility—it was the second day after my arrival that I went to the Guildhall Police Court—I was taken to the cells, and the prisoners were standing there—there were some old and some young; some were badly dressed, and some were better dressed—I can't say whether some of them were drivers—some of the men had tall hats on—I can't say how many—I am sure Matthews had a high hat—he was one of the beat dressed—I can't say how many there were well dressed—the face of the man who signed "R. T. Matthews" was not redder than the face of the prisoner, only on account of wearing the beard; his complexion was about the same—before I saw the prisoner in the cells Mr. Kaulla told me that I should find him changed.
Re-examined. He did not say what the change was.
HAROLD ANTHONY SMITH . I am clerk to Messrs. Russell, Sturgis, and others, merchants, who trade as Baring Brothers & Co., at 8, Bishopsgate Street Within—they are in the habit of issuing letters of credit to various persons in London on their correspondents abroad—this is, apparently, one of our forms, and it contains a list of the correspondents—we grant letters of credit to persons who are introduced to us by our correspondents in America or elsewhere—if a person deposited 200l. we should give him a letter of credit, if he was introduced—we put a number and date to the letters of credit and sign them—this one, numbered 2,973, and dated 31st March, is a letter of credit issued by our firm for 200l. in favour of Ingram Griffin Peck—he was introduced to us a long time before Ms credit was given to him, and on account of orders we received from America—in the ordinary course the 200l. would be paid abroad, the letter of credit would be endorsed, and would come back to us when the whole amount was paid—it would be left with the house that pays the balance—this one has been sent to us, and it appears that all the 200l. was paid upon it—I keep the register of letters of credit—there was no letter of credit numbered 2,973 issued on the 12th May for 2,000l. in favour of R. F. Matthews—it is the custom of our correspondents when money is paid to take bills at three days'
sight, signed by the person in whose favour the letter of credit is issued—these four bills came to us in June last—the first two of them were Accepted and paid—they are paid six days after date—the first two were paid in due course—the other two were never presented to us—these four bills are bills of the Bank of Wurtemburg, and this one for 400l. is drawn by Haas & Co., our correspondents—that was presented to us and refused payment.
Cross-examined. We paid the first two bills, which came from Stutgard, for the honour of the drawer, although we knew it was an improper bill—we knew there was no such letter of credit from our firm—the other two never were presented in this country—we have obtained them from abroad—the 400l. one was presented and that we did not accept—there is no firm of Baring Brothers at any place except London and Liverpool.
CHARLES UNDERWOOD (City Detective). On the 26th September I saw the prisoner in custody—he was then wearing a moustache—he was admitted to bail on the 29th to appear on the following Thursday, October 1st—he did not. answer to his bail, and I next saw him on the 3rd October—he was not wearing a moustache then.
Cross-examined. Before he was admitted to bail he gave his address 59, Pollard's Row, Bethnal Green—I found it was 59, Pollard's Bow, Hackney—I found the place readily enough—I went there before he was admitted to bail—I was told he was ill and that was the reason he did not surrender on the 1st October to his bail—the charge in respect of which he was bailed was a charge of stealing a stick and he was acquitted upon that.
MR. BESLEY submitted that no crime had been committed which could be punish-able in England, the letter of credit being the document which was actually forged, and by which the fraud was perpetrated, the bills of exchange being no more than receipts, and that the money being obtained on the forged letter of credit the offence was substantially completed abroad and in a foreign jurisdiction, and not within the jurisdiction of the Central Criminal Court. He referred to the "Queen v. Garratt," 1 Dearsley Crown Cases reserved, as bearing on the point.
MR. POLAND contended that it was clearly a casern which the English Courts had jurisdiction; that there was a great difference between this case and the "Queen v. Garratt," in as much as that was a charge of obtaining money by false pretences, at St. Petersburg, and the letter of credit in that case being presented at St. Petersburg, and the money obtained there it could not he said that was an obtaining of money by the prisoner in London. It did not matter where the forgery took place, provided the uttering teas with in the jurisdictian of the Court. He referred to "Regina v. Taylor," 4 Foster and Finlayson, page. 511, and last edition Roscoe, 568.
THE COMMONN SERJEANT was clearly of opinion that the indictment was sustainable. The prisoner having made a forged bill of exchange abroad must have been perfectly conscious that in the ordinary course of things it would be presented at Baring's in this country by a well-known. trading process. It was clearly his uttering. Had the indictment in this case been, in the, same form as the "Queen v. Garratt" it would have been governed by that case. He was of opinion that this indictment fell under the 38th sec. of the 24th and 25th. Vic, c 98, and was sustainable.
Witnesses for the Defence.
Cross-examined. I defended him when he was taken into custody—he
was charged with being concerned with another man in stealing a stick, but of that charge he was acquitted—he was then wearing a moustache—it was not very long, it was full—I did not know him before I was consulted for his defence—on being taken into custody he sent a letter to Mr. Buchanan's office for a solicitor to defend him—he wrote part of these papers in Newgate and part in my presence as instructions, in a room which is allotted to attornies at Guildhall—he wrote in my presence more than is contained on that sheet of paper—I had never seen him write before—I am not defending him now, but I am indirectly interested in his defence—I believe there are persons here who have known his writing for years—Mr. Monk, I think, who is clerk to a firm of at townies in Basing hall Street—I am unable to say—I am not aware of anyone else—I am unable to say, because I am not charged with the responsibility of the defence—I did not employ Mr. Chabot; that has been done by the prisoner's friends—I should have so advised—the address the prisoner gave me when I was called upon to act for him was 59, Pollard's Road, Hackney—I am not aware that his landlord is here—the name of Griffin Peck is not familiar to me, I may know such a person.
Re-examined. It was the prisoner's own idea to have an expert to examine the bills, and I advised that it should be carefully concealed until he was tried here.
CHARLES CHABOT . I am an expert in handwriting—I saw the prisoner write yesterday in the presence of the Governor of Newgate, and from having seen him write, and from my experience, I am convinced that these papers are in his writing—I went yesterday to Mr. Mullen's office and saw these five bills of exchange, and my attention was drawn to the signatures "R. F. Matthews"—all the five bills are undoubtly written by the same hand—there is no apparent disguise in the signature—it certainly would not be possible in these papers of instructions to Mr. Chapman, for a person to continue writing a disguised hand in that quantity of writing—I am quite sure it is a natural handwriting throughout—the signatures "R. F. Matthews" are certainly not written by the prisoner in my belief—I have looked at these signatures with the greatest caution, anticipating that the prisoner might invent for himself a signature for the purpose of committing a fraud—I knew that he was charged with the forgery, and I looked very zealously indeed to see whether it was possible for him to create a signature different from his natural handwriting—I have seen him write to-day with a steel pen, the signature "R. F. Matthews," and as a matter of caution I requested him to write it several times—I think when he wrote in the presence of the governor he wrote with a quill pen—I will state why I believe the man never wrote "R. F. Matthews" on the bill—in the first place the formation of the letters are unlike the formation of the letters in the bills; the capital letters I am speaking of—I will take the letter "R" in all the bills—the first down stroke of the "R" is considerably above the top of it—the prisoner makes the "R" after the same model, but he never does that—he makes the "R" in two ways, but when he makes it like the "R" in the bills the down stroke is not beyond the body of the letter in any instance—the "R" in "Respectable" is an instance of what I am saying; perhaps there the down stroke is a little above the level of the bow, but as a rule it is below—in the signatures he has made in the dock to-day he has made a different kind of "R," but he makes that "R" in these papers; but when he makes the "R" after the same model as that in the bills there is the difference which I have pointed out—the next is
the letter "F"—the general character of that letter is totally at variance with the prisoner's "F"—there are two instances in his papers in the words "Friday," and "Foolscap"—I will take the one which is most like the "F" in the bills; in the word "Turner" The "T" and "F" are made in the same way—the "T" in Turner is not looped at the top—all the" F's" in these bills are well looped at the top, all in one way—there is no capital "F" in the prisoner's writing which resembles that in the signatures—he crosses the letter "F" merely with a straight dash and there is a peculiar cross to the "F" in the bills—now the letter "M"—the prisoner habitually makes an enlargement of a small "M" for his capital "M"so that the ordinary capital "M "is a stranger in his writing, and it is a letter that he might select for the purpose of forgery, but it does not at all correspond, it has not the emphasis—if you look at the letters "M" in the bills there is a pressure on the pen in the last down stroke—there is a letter "M" made after the same model as the forgery in sheet B line 16 in the word "Mansion," but it is different from the "M" in the bills—one is the "M "of a superior writer; there is emphasis in one case and none in the other—if you look at all the "M's"There is the same characteristic, a different feeling and touch to my mind altogether—in all the signatures to the bills you will find the letter "h" is considerably taller than the letter "t," besides which it is looped—the loop might be for the purpose of disguise, because it would be easy if a man makes a straight letter "h"To make a loop, so I don't pay much attention to the loop, but I go to the fact that it is much taller—the prisoner habitually makes the letter "t" quite as tall if not taller than the letter "h"—further than that he has got a peculiar way of crossing the "t" such an instance in the bills would have been fatal to me, but the "t" in "Matthews" is not crossed at all, and he could hardly have failed to have put a cross in one instance out of five—now in four out of the five bills in the letter "w"The shoulder of the "w" is written with" such emphasis that it makes it really a letter "m," it looks like a third down stroke—there is no "w" like that in the prisoner's writing—I have not found one that" will bear the slightest comparison with these—the final letter "s" in Matthews is very distinct, in all the bills except one, it comes below the line—in one signature it is a small "s"—you can't find such a letter in the prisoner's writing—it is the characteristic of the writer of the signature to make the "s" below the line—independently of all these matters of detail the general character of the signatures is far superior to the prisoner's handwriting, and it is my opinion that he could not write it with any degree of practice, and it is to be considered that they were written before some other person, not in his own house in secret—I think in the presence of twenty witnesses, I should Bay he did not write it—the signatures I have seen him write are not like his ordinary handwriting.
Cross-examined. The signatures to the five bills are very much alike, but not more alike than signatures of the same man usually are—there" is a little difference between the 400l. one and the others—it seems to me that that was written with a lighter pen—if they were put before me without knowing when they were written, I should not speak positively on such a question—if I was asked I should say the 400l. was written with a different pen—I should say it was a steel pen, because the upstrokes are not as thick—it would not have been more satisfactory to me to have had the general-character of the prisoner's writing for years instead of things
written for the attorney—if I had not had something satisfactory I would not have given evidence—in nineteen passes out of twenty it would have been more satisfactory, and if I had been limited to quantity, but certainly not with such a quantity as this—I generally ask to see handwriting written before the charge or prior to an action—in this case I know all the writing is since the charge—the prisoner makes three different kinds of" R's"—there is one kind in "Royal Bank "and you find another kind directly afterwards—the "R" in ". Respectable "is different from the one in "Royal"—he varies his "R's"—the "R" in "Royal "is the same kind of "R as that on the bills—the only difference is the down stroke is taller, that is the distinguishing point, it is the same character of letter, but a different touch—there is the same kind of "R" in the words "Robbery" and "Remainder" and "Reward"—he makes the letter "M" in two different ways—he generally makes an enlargement of the small "m" for the capital, but when he departs from that he makes it like the "M" in "Matthews"—a skilled forger might disguise his hand in different ways, but in certain ways he could not disguise it—he could not write in a better style than he was capable of doing—a man might practice a signature for the purposes of disguise in order that it should not be like his writing and go abroad and write it time after time; he might be able to, but I don't believe it—hundreds of writers could not do it to save their lives—I doubt that a man could acquire that skill—I first saw the signatures to the bills yesterday at 12.30—I had studied the prisoner's writing before that, and I have studied it to-day in Court with the greatest attention and care, and with a complete determination not to give evidence unless I felt very sure—I find that one part of the prisoner's writing is a great deal better than another, as it would be; that is the advantage of it—the style varies.
Re-examined. If the signature had been a worse style of writing I would have had nothing to do with it, but I see in that the hand of a more educated man; it is a more educated handwriting, and there is, in my judgment, a stamp about it superior to the handwriting of the prisoner—in my belief no one could write other than their ordinary hand before others and with the facility which it has been sworn this was—I have no doubt that the forgery was in a more skilled hand than the prisoner's—the "R's" are written after the same manner, but the prisoner's is a different rendering.
THEODORE WERTSEHBEBG . I am a hairdresser, at 259, Bethnal Green Road—I have been in the habit of shaving the prisoner and attending to his hair for about twelve months—I believe I saw him in June this year—I shaved him three or four times a week—I never saw him with a beard during the whole twelve months.
Cross-examined. I don't know where he was living when I first knew him—I did not know his name—I believe he is an Englishman—he came regularly to my place, and he was a good customer to me—I have a great many customers.
NOT GUILTY .
There were other indictments against the prisoner, which were postponed until next Session.
MESSRS. POLAND and SUTTON conducted the Prosecution.
in the employment of Thomas Kelsey & Co.—on the 19th June the prisoner came to the warehouse and gave me an order for some samples of fruit—he went away, came again, and asked for the samples—I asked for an order, and he gave me an order on a memorandum for some samples—I asked him for how long he should require them, and he said he should Eke them left over for a day or two—I weighed the fruits myself and had them packed up—there were twelve boxes of the value of about 8l.—the porter delivered them—the prisoner never sent the samples back—I went to 80, Southwark Exchange, the address he gave, but I saw nothing of him there—I went several times, but I could not get into the office—his name was on the door, but was closed and locked—I saw the porter of the Exchange, but I could not find the prisoner.
Prisoner. I had the twelve boxes with the understanding that they were to be returned or paid for Witness. Nothing was said about their being paid for—an invoice was not Sent at the time, but as the goods were not returned, an invoice was sent.
FREDERICK PRIOR . I am a, porter to if. Kelsey—on Saturday, 20th June, I delivered at 80; Southwark Exchange; the twelve boxes of fruit samples—I saw the prisoner there and delivered them to him—I left them there.
JOHN SADLER WOOD . I am secretary to the Hop and Halt Exchange Company, which comprises a number of offices—the prisoner was the tenant of No. 80 from the 25th March—he did not pay any rent—I last saw him there shortly before the Midsummer quarter—he left without notice—I don't know where he went to—the first quarter was due at Midsummer—the place is deserted—he took it for a year.
Prisoner's Defence. They were knocked about, and were a good deal out of order, so I sold them.
WILLIAM WALTER WHEATLEY . I am a gold beater, at 42, Drury Lane—on 26th August I received this letter on a printed form, "Robert Bertram and Co.; Shippers and Merchants, 81, Mark Lane. Please send lowest price for deep, pale, and lemon gold"—I answered that on the 27th by 1,000 pale, arid 1,000 lemon. Should the same be sent we shall then give you a larger order"—on Friday, 28th August, I went to 81, Mark Lane and took with me 1,000 leaves of deep gold, 1,000 lemon, and 1,000 pale; the value was 6l. 13s.—I saw two men there, and in consequence of what they said I left the gold—they said I might leave it and call on the Saturday at 12 o'clock and I should receive a cheque—I called on the Saturday at 12 o'clock and saw the same men—I would not be sure whether the prisoner was there then—I did not get the cheque—I was told Mr. Bertram had gone to Tilbury—I asked for the gold—they said "You can't have that for he has taken the gold with him"—when I went in they said "What a pity, he has left the cheque out but has not signed it"—I went twice "on the Monday and I was told they could not see Bertram on Saturday, but would send the cheque at 2 o'clock—on the 31st August I received this letter marked "C" We shall have an answer from our customer on Wednesday next at 12 o'clock, when we doubt not we shall have an order for you, when
at the same time your account will be ready"—that was given to me on the Wednesday when I went at 12 o'clock—I afterwards received this letter marked "D;" "September 2nd. You may send us 5,000 deep gold at 50s. per 1,000 by Saturday next, and send invoice for the whole amount at once"—the prisoner was there when I went at 12 o'clock on the Wednesday—I was speaking to the two men about it being a robbery, not being able to get the gold back again—they said it was nothing to do with them, Bertram was out and I must call again—I went again in the afternoon and saw the same two men, but could not get my gold or the money—on 3rd September I received this note from Mr. Robert Bertram, "Mr. Robert Bertram has sot sent your account but will be at the office from 10 to 2 o'clock to see you on Saturday next. You may safely rely upon your account You had better call between 10 and 11 o'clock"—I went on the Saturday and waited from 11 o'clock in the morning till past 2 o'clock—there was a ticket on the door, "Return at half-past 2"—I saw the cabman there who had been cheated the same as I had; he was waiting for his fare—the place was shut up—I went again on the following Monday and found the same ticket on the door—I saw the prisoner when he was taken into custody, and I said I wanted my gold back again, and he said he could not let me have it—he said he did not know anything about Bertram and Co., he knew Smith and Co., and I found they came from Little Britain.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not have any transactions with you—I only saw you once inside the office, but I saw you on several occasions in passing there.
JOHN FIVEASH . I live at 9, Webb Street, and am a cabman—on 4th September I drove the prisoner from Blackfriars Bridge to the Station Tavern, Walworth Road—he got out of my cab in the Manor Road, Wal-worth—he gave me this card and said "There is my card, call there any time after 11 o'clock to-morrow morning and I will pay you"—I went to 81, Mark Lane, on the following morning, the Saturday—he was not there and the place was shut up—I saw Mr. Wheatley there.
FREDERICK KERLET (Detective Sergeant E). I went with the last two witnesses to 20, Manor Road, Walworth, which is a private house—the prisoner came to the door—I showed him the card and said to the cabman" Is this the man who gave you this card, and did he say "This is my card, call at my office to-morrow and I will pay you'"—the cabman said "Yes, that is the man, and that is what he said"—I told the prisoner I held a warrant for his arrest, and I asked him to come up stairs—I read it to him and he said "My name is not Bertram, it is Eaton"—Mr. Wheatley said "It is very hard I should lose my gold"—the prisoner said "You shall have your gold back again, but I can't give it you"—I took him into custody—I found a number of letters on him addressed to Amos Eaton—he said ho remembered Mr. Wheatley coming to the office 81, Mark Lane one day about some gold, but he had nothing to do with the transaction; he was there at the time with a friend of his named Smith, who kept the office—I asked him where Smith lived—he said he did not know—he said "I went there to see him and he gave me that card, and that is how I came to know where he was"—I said "Did not you know he was there before"—he said "No, I did not"—I have been to the office since—it is closed—that was a few days after I took the prisoner—the name of Bertram was up then.
stairs and said "Mr. Bertram"—he said "No"—I went up to Bertram's Office, and finding no one there, I inquired of the housekeeper—I went to find a man named Robertson—the prisoner said his name was Eaton—Mr. Bertram was not at home—he was going up stairs then—I had been up to the office and could get no reply to my knock.
Prisoner. I called there to see Mr. Smith, the same as you did.
ELIZABETH SARAH GENT . I reside at 81, Mark Lane—my mother is the housekeeper there—Bertram & Co. had two rooms there—they came a few days before the June quarter-day—I did not see the prisoner at that time—I have seen him there several times in August in the office—the people came in about the beginning of August and stopped about six weeks—they did not pay any rent and gave no notice that they were going—we found the place shut up.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I can't say exactly how many times I have seen you there—there were two brothers we guessed were Smiths—they went in the name of Arthur there.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he met a gentleman in King William Street who gave him the card which he afterwards gave to the cabman when he was very much intoxicated, and that he knew nothing of Bertram & Co.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
There were two other indictments against the prisoner.
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, October 30th, 1874.
489. DONALD MURRAY (18), CHARLES IMPSEY (14), CHARLES DAY (30), and WILLIAM SMITH (20), were indicted, MURRAY and IMPSEY for stealing fifty-six pairs of boots, the goods of Annie Mary Johnson , and DAY and SMITH for feloniously receiving the said goods.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; MR. THORNE COLE defended Impsey;
FRANCES STACEY . I am assistant to Mr. Stacey, of 169, Shoreditch—on Saturday, 19th September, between 1 and 2 o'clock, two lads came in and purchased some envelopes—I believe Impsey and Murray are the two boys, but I am not quite sure—one of them asked me to address an envelope—I wrote "Mrs. Johnson" on it—this is the envelope.
BENJAMIN GARNHAM . I am manager to Mrs. Johnson, a boot manufacturer at 384, Hackney Road—I know the two boys—a boy left our employment who I have seen with Murray's son once or twice—I have not seen him with either of the prisoners—Mr. Enthrall of Barnet, is one of our customers—we are in the habit of sending boots to him regularly every Saturday—we send them to the Flower Pot, in Bishopsgate Street—on Saturday, 19th, we sent fifty-six pairs by my son, George Benjamin Garnham—I sent him away about 12.15 in the day—he returned about 1.20—he brought an envelope directed to Mrs. Johnson—he spoke to me and after that I applied to the police—I went round with a policeman to different shops—I went to Mrs. Lilley's shop in Drury Lane on the Monday, and I identified twenty-two pairs of boots there—in the evening I went to Smith's house—I watched there and saw Nicolls and went with him and the constable into the house—I saw Mrs. Nicholls upstairs—I saw part of a hamper in the flames, part of it in the back yard, and part of it in the back kitchen—I could not identify, the hamper—I cannot say whether it
was similar to the one in which the boots were—I had some of the charred remains and it represented the hamper I sent the boots in—I know the other two prisoners; Day is a clicker, the other one is known as a riveter or laster.
Cross-examined. I know Day by sight; I know he has been in the employment of Flateau and Co., but I do not know how long—6s. a pair is the price at which we sell the boots separately to our customers; 4s. 6d. would be a ridiculous price—I do not know what Mr. Towers, manager to Mrs. Little, may think a fair price—those are my own manufactured goods that are sold in the trade some at 5s. 6d. and some at 6s—these are the boots (produced)
GEORGE BENJAMIN GARNHAM . I am the son of the last witness—I am in the employ of Mrs. Johnson—on the 19th September I was sent with a barrow full of boots—when I got into Bishopsgate I saw the prisoner Murray—he came up to me and said "Are you come from Mrs. Johnson?"—I said "Yes"—he said that he had just come from Mr. Enthal, Barnet—"I was coming for the goods, and now I have met you I may just as well take them back to Mr. Enthal, of Barnet"—so he took a note out of his waistcoat pocket and said "Take this back to Mrs. Johnson and be very careful you do not lose it because it is a Bank of England note"—when I got back it was a blank envelope—I saw it opened—Murray called Impsey who was standing looking at a draper's window—he said "Can you carry this hamper?"—he said "Yes, I daresay I can, it is not very heavy;" so Murray took hold of the end, Impsey put the sack on his head and lifted the hamper on his head; and walked towards London Bridge.
WILLIAM NICHOLLS . I live at 28, Charles Street, and lodge in the house where Smith lived—I recollect Murray coming to the house on Saturday, the 19th September, close on 2 o'clock—he looked very hot—he did not have anything with him at that time—he went over to the beer shop to Smith's brother—I saw Smith when he cattle home shortly after—I did not hear him say anything to Murray—they went into the front room—they were there half an hour, I should say—I saw Murray leave the house—Smith showed me the goods he had bought—they were similar to the boots produced, but there were different sorts—he said he had bought them, and asked me whether I was a "Bounder"—I said "No"—I told him to be careful what he was doing—he then called me upstairs into my bedroom—he brought me ten pairs of boots up there, and said would I mind him putting them in my room, because he was doing the prisoner Day for them—I said I did not care about them being in my room—he said they would not hurt being in my room, as he wanted to have these out of the bargain he made with the others "un be knowing" To Day—they were carrying on business together, I believe—they remained in my room until Friday morning—between 5 and 6 o'clock on Saturday a cart drove up to the door—Day was in the cart, and Smith also got in and drove away—they had a basket with the boots in—I daresay it might have been 10 o'clock, or after, when they returned—after that Smith came into the beer shop where I was, and asked whether there was anybody there wanted him—I told him I thought they were all gone—between 12 and 1 o'clock in the morning I told him I wished he would take the boots out of my place, for I did not wish them in my place, and wanted him to take them out there and then—he said let them be until the morning, then he would take them away—he said he should take them away out of the house
"un be knowing"To Day, and before Day came in the morning—I partly guessed where they came from—I said to Smith "They have not come fur from here, they have come from Mr. Johnson's"—he said "You are right"—I saw Day on the following Monday—he came in the beershop where I was and said that Smith had done him—I asked him which way he meant—he said he had taken everything out of the house and sold them "unbeknowing," and even stopped the boy with thirty pairs of already cut uppers, and taken them away from him, and if he got twelve months' himself he would put them all away—I recollect Roper coming to the house with Garnham on the Monday—I saw the hamper there, when it was burning, when they came into the house—I believe it was the same hamper in which the boots were brought.
Cross-examined. I have known Day for some years—I have known that he is a boot riveter, and has been working in that trade for some time—the ten pairs of boots were taken away by Smith—I believe he took away everything—he and Day were partners—Day complained to me of being robbed—I lived in the house, and never went out until 8 o'clock at night on Saturday, the 19th September—it might be half an hour I daresay before Smith came in after Murray came in—I do not think Day was in the house at that time—Day did not live in the house; he came in very shortly after Smith—I did not see Day talk to Murray—when Murray brought the boots Smith's brother saw him first—I have lived in the house some time, and know that Smith has only lately gone into partnership with Day—I have lived there thirteen weeks with Smith—I would not stay in a house during that time which I believed belonged to a man who was not honest—it was not quite convenient for me to get out—it was convenient to work in, in our line—the two went into partnership on the Saturday before the robbery took place—when I saw the boots first they were in the kitchen—I do not know whether Murray put them down there Smith called me in—I did not say that Murray came up in the cart—the cart was sent for, I believe; at the time it came to the door Smith was in the kitchen—I saw the boots several times; they were never kept so that I could see them at any time—a week before that Day and Smith were not partners at all—they had been carrying on business with one another for weeks before, but I was not aware they had been partners—I was there while the hamper was burning.
Re-examined. I went with Mr. Garnham on the Monday.
WILLIAM Towers. I am manager to Mrs. Little, 77, Drury Lane, a boot and shoe dealer—I saw Day on the Saturday previous to the robbery for the first time—on the 19th September he came to the shop between 7 and 8 o'clock; he had a cart outside—he brought a basket into the shop containing twenty-four pairs of boots; some of them are the boots produced—I bought them for 4l. 16s., that is at the rate of is, a pair—he signed the receipt—I had given him orders for boots of that price—I did not expect to see him until the next week—he came and said "I have some boots here,' and will put them in at the same price as I am very short of money"—I. said "You must wait a few minutes, as I am too busy to attend to you"—I said "Get them out, I have no time to attend to you now"—he "Took them out—I had not time to thoroughly examine them—I asked him for a receipt—he gave me one—I said "Have you not got a stamp?"—he said "No"—I said "Then give me a penny and I will give you one"—he gave me a penny, signed the receipt, and I paid him.
Cross-examined. I only knew Day on the previous Saturday—I then had a transaction with him in boots—I bought, I think, it was nine pairs—I had given him orders for goods to the amount of what I paid him for those, besides other orders which he was to bring me in the following week—4s. is a fair price for a job lot, because they are not all alike—I do think it would be a ridiculous price—I should disagree with the maker of the boots if he said nothing below 6s. would be a fair price and adequate price—my opinion is that what I gave would be a fair and reasonable price—I do not think I have ever seen Smith before.
Cross-examined. I sold the boots retail, I have known Day some time, he has worked for me, I have never known anything against his character.
JANE NICHOLLS . I am the wife of the witness William Nicholls—I live in the some house as the prisoner Smith—on the 21st September, I burnt part of the hamper at Mr. Smith's request—he sent it to me by a little boy in his employ.
Cross-examined. I burnt part of it myself—I was there when Roper came, since that time I have heard that some boots were stolen from so me-body, and that various parties were implicated in the affair—since I was at the police-court I have been asked to give evidence in this case by a police-constable—he did tell me that my husband might be under suspicion—it was understood by me that I was to give all the evidence I could against Smith, I was to tell what I knew—that was all—it was not understood that if I did not speak out plainly my husband would get into trouble about the matter—I was afraid my husband was under suspicion—I was told so by the constable Roper—I communicated that also to my husband.
Re-examined. It was on the Monday, as soon as he came into the house and saw the hamper burning that the officer told me that—I believe Mr. Garnham was with him.
THOMAS ROPER . On the 19th September, Mr. Garnham came to the police-station and gave information about the goods being stolen—I went out and made enquiries at different shops—on the Tuesday, I went to Smith about 7.45—I went into the house and went into Smith's kitchen, and found some hampers there in the fire grate, I saw the hamper on the fire, I went upstairs into Mrs. Nicholl's room and likewise saw some burning there, I went into the garden and there was apparently the lid of a hamper just consumed—on the Tuesday I went to Mrs. Little's and discovered the twenty-four pairs of boots—on Wednesday, about 12.45, a.m., I was in the Hackney Road with Cross—I saw Murray and Impsey arm in arm with a drunken man—I took them into custody—after they were charged a boy came to identify them—I charged them with stealing fifty-six pairs of boots from a barrow in Bishopsgate Street, on the 19th September—Impsey said he knew nothing about them, Murray the same—he said he had not seen Impsey from 5.15 that night—I took them in some water, when Murray said "Well old man, you seem to know about as much about this affair as I do"—I said "Yes, I think I do"—Impsey came up to Murray and said "If you don't tell him I will"—he then said "We should have had nothing to do with this if they had not made an arrangement with us on the Friday, the day previous to the robbery, that if we brought in the stuff from Johnson's they would
give us 7l. for it, when we got the stuff to Smith's house they looked over the stock and said they could not give more than 4l. and all we have received is 2l. 5s. "—Impsey made the remark—"Yes, we should not have had that had it not been for Day—Smith has not given us the sum"—they asked me who, blowed—whether it was the bloke at the Pawnbrokers—I said "No," do you recollect a man lending you a half-penny on the road"—"Yes,"That was Mr.—; Murray said Impsey went into Stacey's to get the envelope, in Shoreditch (Impsey heard that, he was in the same cell)—he asked the young lady whether she would mind putting the name of Mrs. Johnson on the envelope—with reference to Day and Smith they only said that Day had made the arrangement with them on the day previous to the robbery—after apprehending the prisoners I went to Smith's house about 3.30—I knocked about four times, and Nicholl's put his head out of the window and asked who was that there—I said "Police"—Smith opened the door, and before he opened the door asked who was there—I said "Police"—I said "You know. what I have come about"—the said "Yes, about the b——boots"—he said "All right, I will dress"—on the road to the station he asked what I thought he should get—I said "Penal servitude if there are previous convictions against you"—he said he hoped to God not, he had never been in trouble before and had only been married five months and in partnership with Day three week's and wished he had never seen him—at Guildhall he said he bad sold twenty-four pairs of boots at Mrs. Little's, and Day went with him to sell the others at Brooke's, he had heard that I went to the house, and the other twenty pairs they had burnt, there were twelve pairs of samples, that they could not sell—I produce the twenty-four pairs I received from Towers—Cross got the one pair from Brooke.
Cross-examined. I have told you everything in regard to the conversation between myself and the two boys in the cell, with the exception that Impsey said "God blind me," or "So help me God, Smith ought to have fifteen years for the way he has treated us; he has not given as a halfpenny, and we should not have had a halfpenny, if it had not been for Day"—I did not begin the conversation by questioning them—I did not go for the purpose of questioning them—I was just coming away from the cell, from locking—them up—Cross was not with me—this was long before we took the receivers" into custody—Cross was not in the cell with, me at the time—he went with me to Smith's—I gave the directions for taking Day into custody—I told Cross where to go to—that was in consequence of what I had heard from the two boys, and a billhead given me by Mrs. Little with their two names-on, Day and Smith—I traced the property to Day's selling at Little's too—I did not take the boys on this charge originally—they were in company with a drunken man—I did not take them in charge for that—I noticed the description I had received of the boys, and directly I saw the prisoners I saw they were the two I wanted, and I said to Murray "Well, Donald, I hardly knew you"—he said' "Didn't" you"—I said "No, your name is Donald Murray, isn't it"—he said "Yes"—I said to the other "And your name is Charley Impsey"—he said "Yes"—"Then, "I said, "I shall take you on a charge of stealing, on the 19th September, fifty-six pairs of boots"—that was after I got them in my custody—it was not after I got them to the police-station, that was as soon as I saw them—no conversation passed on the road down, until I went into their cell to take
one of them some water, only from the prisoner Impsey, he said he had not seen Donald till 5.30 that night, on the 19th.
WILLIAM CROSS (Policeman). A little after 3 o'clock on the morning of the 24th of September I went to Day's house—I took him into custody—I told him he would be charged with receiving fifty-six pairs of boots from Murray and Impsey on the Saturday—he said "I know nothing about it; I do not know them; I never saw them"—on the way to the station he asked me what he would be done to—I said "I really cannot say anything about that"—the same morning going to Guildhall he asked me again what I thought he would get done to—he said "What is the best thing I can do"—I said "I shan't advise you in any way"—he said "I tell you the truth, I bought the boots, I paid Murray one pound for them on Saturday, and gave him another pound on the Sunday morning; I sold the boots at Little's, and Smith was with me; that is my receipt; that is my name on the receipt."
Cross-examined. He did not ask me whether selling the boots was a crime, or anything of the sort—I did not take a note of the conversation—I can recollect all he said to me perfectly—we never take notes of that—after he had been charged at the station and was going to Guildhall he acknowledged the receipt and that he had sold the boots—I told him he was charged with receiving these boots well knowing them to have been stolen—I did not say anything about selling them—he did not say anything to me about Smith giving him directions to give the money.
JOSEPH ENTHAL . I am a customer of Mrs. Johnson's—it is my habit to receive consignments of boots from her weekly—I did not give any authority to Impsey and Murray to fetch those boots, nor did I give them any envelope.
MURRAY'S DEFENCE. On Friday night previous to the robbery Mr. Day came to me to go to Mile End Road; Mr. Day and Smith were together—he said "Come away from Smith, I do not want him to know anything about this;" so he walked away from Smith, and he said "Will you do a job for me"—I said "Yes, Mr. Day, I am out of work and will be very glad to do a job for you"—he said "Well I want you to go and get some boots for me to-morrow morning"—I said "All right;" so I agreed to meet him in Hackney Road, at the corner of Temple Street—he said "Here's the boy coming out of Johnson's, you are to go up in the city and get an envelope; I have not got a pencil, or envelope with me, go into Stacey's and get one wrote out if you can get a halfpenny anywhere," and Impsey borrowed the halfpenny—Mr. Day sent us to get an envelope wrote out, and up to Bishopsgate where we got the boots—he sent us over to the boy to deliver the note and get the boots—after he saw we had got the boots; "That will do;" he says, "You go round Whitechapel way and I will go round Shoreditch—I have got a basket, and Smith will think that I have been taking these goods home that I took out"
SMITH received a good character
Two previous convictions were proved against Impsey— Two Years' Imprisonment each.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, October 31th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. BESLEY and J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM SMITH (City Detective Sergeant). On 15th September I took the prisoner on a warrant granted on the 14th—I went to his house in Oxford Road, Barnsbury, got into the garden over the back wall, and caught sight of him in the back kitchen; he made a start to run away, but I rushed in and caught hold of him—I said that I had a warrant for his arrest for obtaining goods of Messrs. Candy, of Watling Street—he said "It is a debt, they can't make a fraud of it"—I said "I will read the warrant to you"—ne said "Never mind, I know what it is, I know all about it"—I got hold of him, opened the front door, called for assistance, and Harding, whom I had placed there, came—I said. to the prisoner "Have you any duplicates in the house?"—he said "No"—I found these nine duplicates in a pair of trousers in the dresser drawer and in another drawer these twenty-three duplicates relating to hosiery and other things—I went with the prisoner upstairs and found the second floor front room locked—I asked him for the key—he said he had not got it—I said "Is there anything there?"—he said "No" I took him to a closet on the same floor, which was locked, and said "Is there anything there?"he said "No"—I said "Where is the key?"—he said that he had not got it—I ordered the front room door to be forced open and the cupboard, and then Harding produced seventy-eight duplicates from the front room and sixty-six from the cupboard on which the advances amount to about 330l.—sixty-seven of the duplicates were of 1873 and were then a year old, and forty of them were out of date—eighty-seven of them are of 1874—the aggregate of contracts and duplicates out of date is upwards of 200l.—contract notes are given by pawnbrokers for three months or one month, as the case may be—I also found a large quantity of papers and bill heads relating to various transactions, invoices of goods from different firms, a cheque-book of the London and County Bank, Islington Branch, and one of the National Provincial, a pass-book of the Birkbeck Bank and several counterfoils of their cheques—the pass-book is made up to November, 1873—twenty-three cheques out of the twenty-five have been taken out of the cheque-book of the London and County Bank—here is only one blank cheque here now, but you will find the others among the papers—Messrs. Candy and Mr. Sayers are the names on the last two counterfoils—I have never seen any duplicates relating to Candy's or to the Wood Street Company's goods, but I went round with the witnesses and traced the goods—I found on the prisoner these two receipted invoices of Messrs. Candy's (produced)—I also found a letter of 24th July, signed Richard Morris (Marked E)—there was not a chair or a table in the. house, they were using two drawers as a table and chair, and in the bedroom I found a mattress and a few things to cover it, and wearing apparel belonging to the prisoner and his wife was lying about—I found receipted invoices of Young and Rochester, of April 4th and 7th, and Wood Street Warehouse invoices of 1st and 7th September—the prisoner's wife asked Harding to allow her to go to the water-closet—he followed at a respectful distance, and after she left, this cheque (produced) was found on the floor—it is dated
23rd June, and is payable to Mrs. C. Hazleton—the other cheques were found in the prisoner's pocket with other papers—one of them for 20l. is cancelled—it is in the name of Callow and is dated July 31st.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have got all the papers here in a letter signed John Reed, and two letters from Phillips and Sedgwick, a cheque for 30l. drawn by James Sewell, of Manchester, dated November 12, 1868, which has nothing to do with the case—I can prove that you have pawned in the name of Williams—after the door was broken open your wife produced the key—you. were not present when it was broken open, you were with me in the back kitchen—I believe you offered me a hammer to break the door open—I know that you had plenty of furniture in the house a few days ago before—I found some of it pledged by you—I have heard of a bill of sale—I did not state at the Mansion House that you traded under false names—your pocket book is here.
CHARLES MOSELEY . I am sale man to Robert Young and another, warehouseman, of 3, Love Lane, Wood Street—I first saw the prisoner on Thursday, 2nd April, he gave me an order for something over two dozen shirts—I believe he had to call again for them because we had to get them marked—he came again on 4th April, and the invoice was made out by a clerk—I only take the goods down to him with a ticket and some other person receives the money—on 7th April the prisoner came again and selected goods which are represented by this receipt for 8l. 12s. 7d.,—I passed them on with a ticket to a clerk who would make out an invoice and receive the money—I afterwards saw some of the goods at Mr. Atten-borough's in Fleet Street.
Cross-examined. The shirts are marked and here is my ticket on them.
FREDRICK LEE PAGE . I am clerk to Messrs. Young and Rochester, in the entering room—on 4th April, Moseley brought me some shirts with a ticket—I made shout the invoice (produced) and put r. m. on it which means "ready money"—there was a discount on that of 4s. 3d.—I saw the invoice receipted by Mr. Mclntyre the cashier, and I believe the prisoner took the goods away—I also made out the invoice of 7th April, the letters "r. m" are upon it—I did not seethe money paid to the cashier.
Cross-examined. Mr. Rochester was not there.
THOMAS MCINTYRE . I am the cashier, I received this invoice for 7l. 9s. 3d., for the first lot of goods—the prisoner came up and said "Oh by the bye I have not got sufficient money in my pocket, I must give you this and a 5l. cheque," and he gave me 2l. 5s., and this 5l. cheque (produced), this was 1.45 or 1.50 in the afternoon—he took away the goods and the receipt—Monday being a Bank holiday, the cheque would not be paid in till Easter Tuesday—I did not see him on 7th April but this cheque for 8l. 8s. came into my possession on that day—it is Page's writing—it covers this invoice—there is discount for cash—I should not have parted with the goods if I had not thought the cheque was good.
Cross-examined. I do not know who received this eight guinea cheque—I told Mr. Rochester that you said that you knew him and he said that he did not know anything about you—I called at your house and your wife said that you were not there, you had gone to the West End, and would be there in the afternoon, but you did not come—I do not know whether the warrant was taken out the same evening.
in the name of William James Hazleton by a payment of 22l. 10s.—he was supplied with a cheque-book containing fifty-two cheques—on 9th September, 1873, his balance was 5s. 3d., and the account remained in that state till 27th June, 1874, when he applied for a new cheque book, but we declined supplying it, in consequence of the irregular way in which his account had been kept, upon which he withdrew 5s. of the 5s. 3d.—he had sent in several cheques, having no assets—he was entitled to the 3d., but he left it there for some reason of his own—the fifty cheques were, I believe, all presented at the bank, there are about thirty-three honoured and about seventeen dishonoured—he had no authority to draw these cheques on us on 4th and 7th April for 5l. and 8l. 8s., because he had no assets—if between the time he drew the cheque and the time it was presented he had had 100l. paid in I should have considered that he had a right—it often happens that before the presentation of a cheque an amount is paid in to meet it—we should not have allowed him. to overdraw at any time—while his balance was 5s. 3d., we refused payment of other cheques drawn by him—these ten cheques from 4th December, 1873, to March, 1874, have been filled up by him from the fifty cheques we supplied to him, and they have all been refused payment—I called his attention to our rules which are in the pass-book, and he also signed a book when he had the cheque book, stating the conditions on which cheques are supplied—we never pay a cheque without examining the account—we post every cheque before it is paid—cheques are marked on one side of the counter and paid on the other—it is the Scotch system—the last payment in was 5l. on 5th December—no, bank west of King Street, Cheapside, is represented at the clearing-house—a crossed cheque payable at our house takes about three days to be brought to the account.
Cross-examined. The new cheque-book was 5s. 8d. and there was only 5s. 3d. to meet it—I know that you signed for the 5s. on 27th June—you may have applied for a cheque book without having been there yourself—I deny that a dozen of your cheques have been paid which do not-appear in our books—this (produced) is a statement of your account.
HENRY DAY . I am assistant to Mr. Seeker, a pawnbroker, of Bath Street, City—I have shown two shirts to Mr. Moseley which were pawned on 3rd April—I produce the corresponding tickets. (These were for two shirts, eight pairs of hose, and twelve handkerchiefs, pawned for 1l. in the name of John Williams, 4, New Street.) I should call him Mr. Williams, and the boy would put that name down of his own accord—I have also got duplicates of 17th April for four shirts, 7s., in the name of John Williams, 7; Gee Street—the addresses are put down by one of the juniors—I have been doing business with the prisoner so long that I did not ask the address as I know him so well—I have the tickets of more shirts, but these are all that Mr. Moseley has identified, and they were all pledged by the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I have known you between two and three years—I have always found you to redeem your goods and always anxious to redeem them—I believed you to be a very respectable man and knew that you were a job buyer—I advanced you money from time to time for temporary purposes in the majority of cases—you came to me both morning, noon, and night—I know nothing of the contract notes, the foreman made them out.
Re-examined. I have now about 35l. worth of the prisoner's goods in pledge—I have no account of those which I have sold as having run out
—this contract note (produced) is made out in the name of William Hazleton, but not by me.
WILLIAM BENNETT . I am clerk to George Attenborough, a pawnbroker, of Fleet Street—I have a sample of six new shirts pawned by the prisoner on 30th April, 1874, in the name of John Williams, 45, Fleet Street—that is not opposite our shop—I have the corresponding duplicates of eighteen shirts, pawned on August 15th for 2l. 14s., which are also identified by Moseley; they are in the name of John Williams, 145, Fleet Street; that is at the other end of the street—they were new goods—I have another for sixteen shirts, pledged by the prisoner on 9th September, 1874, for 2l. 10s., in the name of John William, 145, Fleet Street—I never went there.
Cross-examined. I have known you two years, or it may be longer—you redeemed your goods in nearly every case—I do not recollect selling any—I always believed you to be a job buyer—I have no reason to think you ever told me your name was Hazleton—I know your face well.
Re-examined. Some of the goods were dressed and some not—some of them were in the original boxes of the wholesale houses—I consider them finished.
SAMUEL PHILLIPS . I am assistant to Mr. Sharwood, a pawnbroker, of St. John's Wood—I produce tickets of two shirts, pawned on 15th August, 1874, in the name of John Williams, 10, City Road; only one of them has been identified—a parcel of three shirts has not been identified, but a parcel of six shirts, pawned on 19th June, has, by Mr. Moseley—the prisoner pawned them.
Cross-examined. I have known you about eighteen months in the name of Hazleton—I have bought goods of you two or three times—I always found you straightforward and respectable—I don't think you ever left a parcel unredeemed, and I believe you generally redeemed in a week or a fortnight—I or my manager served you—you sold me goods only about 2 per cent under what I could purchase them for of a traveller.
Re-examined. We have goods now which were pledged by the prisoner to the extent of 10l. or 12l., but not within twelve months—I mean that I have never sold pledges which have run out—the goods were sometimes second-hand—I believe he adopted the name of Williams because he did not wish the name of Hazleton to be known in the shop—I cannot account for having two addresses of his, neither of which are true—the address on this ticket is Charles Street, having known him so long there might be a little laxity.
WILLIAM SUNSHINE . I am salesman to Sayer and Heale, of Bishopsgate Street—on Saturday, 29th August, about 7.45 in the evening the prisoner asked to be allowed to leave a parcel there because he was going to have his hair cut—he returned saying that the shop was shut, and came in and fitted on two pairs of boots, one pair was 1l. 7s. and the others 1l. 3s.—I took off 1s. as he took the two pairs—he took out a check-book and wrote a cheque for 2l. 9s. on the London and County Bank, Islington Branch—I would not have let him take the boots without the cheque, but he also mentioned the names of two gentlemen who were very good customers of mine, which induced me to believe that the cheque was good—he paid it to me as cash, and it was returned to me unpaid at 3 o'clock on Monday afternoon—on the Tuesday night I saw the prisoner outside the shop with one of the pairs of boots on his feet—I noticed them when he was given in custody.
Cross-examined. Your wife afterwards left one pair of boots in the shop
in a parcel, she said nothing about changing them—I sent after her but they did not catch her—you wrote me this note (produced).
FREDERIOK WILLIAMS . I am cashier at the London and County Bank, Islington Branch—on 2nd June, 1874, the prisoner opened an account there by the payment of 27l.—he described himself as a tie manufacturer—a book of twenty-five cheques was supplied to him—the last payment in was on 6th July when 4l. was paid in, and 3l. was drawn out the next day, which left 7s. 11d. in his favour—on 29th August the account was overdrawn by the accidental payment of 1l., he had no authority to draw after that, but other cheques were afterwards presented and dishonoured.
Cross-examined. These cheques were dishonoured after 29th August, and it may be more—I have the names and amounts here—we stopped the payment of two cheques on 3rd July and 7th July.
JOHN WHITE . I am buyer and salesman to Candy and Co., of Watling Street—on 31st August the prisoner came and asked if we had any shawls, to dispose of cheap, but I had not—he came again on 1st September and I sold him a sample of thirteen shawls at 4s. 2d. each—I made out this ticket (produced)—m. d. means money down—he did not pay me, the ticket would be sent into the entering-room—he came again on 2nd September to look at the remainder of the shawls and offered me a price to clear the lot—he said that he had sold a portion of the others—I agreed with him for 22l. 10s. 6d. for the job lot of ten and a half dozen, money down, and sent the ticket and the goods to the entering room—I took a portion down myself as it was nearly 6 o'clock—I saw him in the counting-house—the receipts found at his house refer to those two parcels of shawla, they have "M. D." on them—I have since seen seven of the shawls at one pawnbrokers and thirty-six at another and forty-two at another and identified them.
Cross-examined. I had nothing to do with the money—I don't know that you have been bargaining for those shawls for twelve months.
JAMES STEVENS . I am a clerk at Messrs. Candy's—on 1st September the prisoner brought this invoice marked "C" To the counting-house—I understood this "m.d." To mean money down—he gave me a cheque for 2l. 14s. 2d. on the National Provincial Bank, Islington Branch, and I gave him the receipted invoice with a ticket, which was the authority to deliver the goods.
Cross-examined. I had only known you one day—you had a transaction, with the house the day before and brought a cheque ready written for 4l. 10s. on the London and County Bank—I have been seven years in the employ-, ment—I asked you for a balance of 8s. owing to the firm from January, twelve months—Mr. Hogard told me to do so—you partially explained it then and next day you told me that the 8s. was discount due to you on 20l.
WILLIAM SEARLE . I am a clerk at Messrs. Candy's—on 2nd September, about 6.30, the prisoner came to me with this invoice—I understood "m.d" to mean that I was not to deliver the order without the money—he wrote this cheque (produced) on the National Provincial Bank, Islington Branch, and I signed the delivery order and receipt and handed them to him—I would not have given him the delivery order without the cheque.
Cross-examined. I should have done so if I had had instructions from Mr. Hogard—I had only seen you once before.
Re-examined. Mr. Hogard had gone for the day—when an invoice is marked "m. d." I must not let the goods go without the money.
THOMAS EDWARD STONE . I am entering clerk to Messrs. Candy—it is my duty to receive goods and to see the invoices made out—on 1st September the prisoner came to the entering-room and the goods were sent down—he brought the ticket and invoice receipted marked "m. d." and I gave him the goods—that was some time in the afternoon—on 2nd September, about 6 o'clock, he came again and Mr. White brought down some of the shawls—ou seeing the invoice receipted I allowed the goods to go, he leaving the order—it was a bulky parcel, and a woman helped him to carry it away.
Cross-examined. I did not know you before, but I may have seen you in December and January—I do not remember your buying shawls before.
CHARLES FREDERICK HOGARD . I am principal clerk to Messrs. Candy—the cheque marked "I" came into my possession on September 1st, and I it into Barclay's, with other money, on the 2nd—on the morning of the 3rd I received this cheque for 22l. 11s. 6d., and paid it into Barclay's the same day—they came back dishonoured on the 4th—one is marked "Refer to drawer," and the other "N. S."—they have not been paid—the prisoner had' no credit at our house—his wife brought the money for this cheque for 4l. 10s., dated' August 31, but no money has been received for these cheque on the National Provincial—the 4l. 10s. was brought about 9.30 and the cheque was returned about 10 o'clock, and the other cheque a little later—I did not see the prisoner afterwards.
Cross-examined. I don't think I knew you before 31st August, but I knew the name—I received from you in Newgate a notice to produce certain letters and telegrams, and I have got them here (produced)—your wife called on the morning of 3rd September, about 9.30—it may have been 10.30—I state most distinctly that at the time she called I did not know of the return of the cheque from the National Provincial—directly I did know it I sent you this telegram (produced) to send cash immediately—you sent the money because I had sent two messengers to your house—as far as I know the expense of this prosecution will be divided between ourselves and Young and Rochester, and the Wood Street Warehouse Company—the Wood Street Warehouse Company have not paid us anything yet—we are prosecuting in our own case, but we are not going to pay all the expenses—Mr. Pawson has signed a document—somebody of your name had transactions with the firm in January, 1873, upon which 8s. appeared to be owing—you explained that you did not owe it, that it was a matter of discount—I made an affidavit for this warrant—we placed the matter in our solicitor's hands, and left him to act as he thought best—I do not know a man named Sadler; I know Green—he said that you had bought 100l. worth of goods of him, and he should like to join us in the prosecution.
WILLIAM BENNETT (re-examined). On the afternoon of 3rd September, between 3 and 4 o'clock, the prisoner brought me nine dozen and a half Shetland shawls, and pledged them in two parcels, one for 3l. 10s. and the other for 2l. 2s., in the name of John Williams, 144, Fleet Street—he redeemed them on the 9th—I afterwards saw some shawls at the Mansion House, which I believe to be the same.
Cross-examined. You told me you wished to have them put in two parcels, because it would be easier for you to take them out—I might have put down your address from memory—I only knew you by one name and address—you have had a good many transactions with me—you always redeemed the goods. Sophia Pitts. I am single—I am first saleswoman in the service of the
Wood Street Warehouse Company, Limited—on 31st August the prisoner came and selected six costume dresses, at 11s. 6d. each, amounting to 3l. 9s.—he bought them as a job buyer—he said he would pay ready money—I sent the goods to the entering room with a ticket, as usual, and know no more of that transaction—next afternoon, 1st September, the prisoner came again and selected thirteen more costumes and nineteen skirts, amounting to 9l. 11s. 6d.—the transaction the day before, being a ready money one, I concluded this would be so—this is the invoice—on 2nd September he selected more goods to the amount of 19l. 6s. 1d., as described in this invoice—I supposed that to be a ready money transaction—I have since identified 103 skirts produced by Day, and five costumes produced by Clark.
Cross-examined. I asked you if you had any account with the house and you said no, you preferred paying ready money, and I wrote on the ticket "r. m., waiting," and you went down stairs—I had nothing to do with the payment.
ALFRED HOWSE . I am clerk and cashier to the Wood Street Warehouse-Company—on 31st August the prisoner came to the counting-house with a boy who brought this invoice for 3l. 9s.—the prisoner gave me this cheque for 3l. 9s., drawn on the National Provincial Bank, Islington Branch—I asked him if he was known to any one in the house, as I could not take a cheque from a stranger, and I wished' to know if it was right—he told me to ask Mr. Pawson—I sent the lad, and the answer he brought was that he had known him in the old house—I therefore thought' it was all right, and that' I was authorised to take the cheque, and I receipted the invoice and allowed the goods to go—on 1st September he came again, and this invoice for 9l. 1s. 6d. was brought up in the same manner—the prisoner gave me this cheque on the National Provincial Bank of England, and I allowed the goods to go—on 2nd September this invoice was handed to me, and I received this cheque for 9l. 16s. 1d.—I receipted the invoice and allowed the goods to go—the cheques were paid in in the usual way to our bankers, and returned marked "refer to drawer"—the prisoner had no credit account with our firm—he was a perfect stranger—I took his cheques as cash—I think on 31st. August it was about 5 o'clock when he came—it-was too late to pay the cheque in—on 1st September it was a little earlier, and on 2nd September later, after banking hours—the first cheque, I think, came back on the morning of the third day.
Cross-examined. I first knew you on 31st August—I believe you. wrote out the cheque then and there—when the first two cheques were returned, I wrote you a note telling you so, and you replied that you had been disappointed in receiving a sum of-money, and you would take them up in a day or two—I mentioned it to Mr. Pawson; he did not seem satisfied that they would be paid.
JOHN RANDALL . I am manager of the entering-room of the Wood Street. Warehouse Company—I was present at the delivery of the goods mentioned in these invoices, of 31st August and 2nd September; upon the prisoner showing me the receipts I: allowed him to take the goods away—on the last occasion there were three large parcels, and the porter helped him with a truck—I remarked to him that he was doing a very good trade in that class of goods, and he said yes, he had sold those he had had, and he thought he had also sold those—he was going to Ludgate Hill. Robert Nassau. I am a porter to the Wood Street Warehouse Company
—on 2nd September I went with the prisoner with three parcels of goods to the Goose and Gridiron, in St. Paul's Churchyard—he asked me to take them inside—the landlord at first refused, but afterwards he took them in, and they were left there about 5 o'clock—it is a booking office.
HENRY DAY (re-examined). On 3rd December I advanced to the prisoner 12l. 10s. in three sums of 5l., 3l. 15s., and 3l., upon 100 skirts, the same that Miss Pitts has since seen—these are the tickets referring to them; they were pledged in the name of Mrs. Hazleton—I advanced him 1l. more on the same day on three other skirts.
Cross-examined. You said you wanted them in three tickets as they would be more easy to redeem—I believed you would redeem them—I always found you keep your word.
ANDREW FISHER HOLT . I am accountant to the National Provincial Bank of England, Islington Branch—we always require introduction or reference with customers—the prisoner opened an account with us on 8th July, 1874, with 30l.—he received a cheque-book of twenty-four cheques—on 9th July he drew out 10l., and on the 10th, 15l., in favour of Mrs. Hazelton—on 23rd July the account was overdrawn 1l. 2s., that was by accident—this is a cheque-book belonging to our branch; I can't say it is the prisoner's book—this is a letter sent to him on 24th July giving him notice of the overdraft; the account continued in that state until 3rd September; he then paid in 2l. 15s. and 15l. 5s.—the 2l. 15s. was paid in the first thing in the morning, and the 15l. 5s. between 3 and 4 o'clock; that made him in funds to the amount of 16l. 18s.—on 4th September, 14l. 16s. was drawn out by a cheque in favour of Mrs. Hazleton; that left two guineas altogether—twelve cheques were drawn on this account, seven were paid, five were presented and not paid—on 31st August he had no credit at our bank or any right to draw a cheque; we never allowed him to overdraw—the cheques produced, drawn in favour of the Wood Street Company and Candy & Co., were all refused payment.
Cross-examined. I do not know of any arrangement that you made with the manager when you opened the account, I was not present—I am quite sure he did not allow you an overdraft—I don't think it likely that he would allow you to draw upon country cheques—the cheques drawn in favour of Mrs. Hazleton might be presented by any one else.
Re-examined.' I have not got the cheques with me, I believe they are in the prisoner's pass book.
JOHN POTTAGE . I am clerk to Allen Solly and Tempany, wholesale hosiers, 8, King Edward Street, City—in September last the prisoner obtained some goods of me—on 4th December he gave me this cheque for 17l. 9s., and on 8th December another cheque for 26l. 10s. 6d.—they were presented and returned unpaid—they never have been paid.
Cross-examined. You had one other transaction on 11th December, and gave me a cheque for 6l. 11s. 6d.; that was paid—when you gave me the first cheque I sent it up to the counting house to ask if I was to take it, and they said yes—I don't know that you were a friend of Mr. Solly's—I have some recollection of the name of Hazleton as having cash entries within the last six or seven years—I did not see you after the return of the cheques.
JOSEPH FOY . I am a wholesale hosier, of 60, Aldermanbury—on 20th January I sold the prisoner goods to the amount of 3l. 1s. 6d., and he gave me this cheque in payment—next day I sold him goods to the amount of
5l. 6s. and 2l. 3s., and he gave me these two cheques in payment—on 22nd January he had goods for 6l. 3s., and gave me this cheque in payment—these four cheques were paid in in the ordinary course and all came back from the Birkbeck Bank without payment.; they are still outstanding—I saw him on the following Monday as this cheque came back on the Saturday, and I told him that the cheques were returned unpaid—he seemed surprised—I asked what was the meaning of it—he said he did not know, but he would see about it—I asked whether he could pay the cheques, he said he could not pay them then, but he would see about the matter and 1 might take his word of honour that he would pay them if I would give him till Tuesday or Wednesday—I never saw him after until he was in custody.
Cross-examined. You gave me two cheques for 4l. 1s. 6d. and 3l. 4s. 6d., on the Birkbeck Bank on two other transactions on 17th and 19th July, and those were paid through our bankers Barclay's.—(The cheques were produced from amongst the prisoner's papers).
FREDBIOK MORLEY HILL (re-examined). We keep all the cheques that we honour, we do not give them up to the customers—the fact of these two cheques being found in the prisoner's possession would show that they were never paid by us—it is very common for customers at banks if a cheque is dishonoured to go round to the bankers who have presented it and pay the money, and then the cheque would be given up to them—these two cheques are marked "N. S." by our bank, so that they were not paid there; they must have been taken up in the way I have suggested.
MARMADUKE WILLIAM ATKINSON . I am manager to John Buckley and Sons, warehousemen of 25, Basinghall Street,—I received this cheque on the Birkbeck bank for 10l. 2s. 3d. dated, 26th February, from the prisoner, it was returned unpaid—I have not seen him since.
Cross-examined. When you gave me the cheque you asked me to hold it over for some little time and I promised to do so—I kept it for a fortnight and wrote to you several times but you never came, I then paid it away, and it was returned to me—you afterwards sent a portion of the goods and asked me to take them back, but of course I could not do that.
WILLIAM SIMPSON . I am a linen agent in King Street, Cheapside—on 11th March I received a cheque for 4l. 17s. 9d. from the prisoner, in payment of some handkerchiefs, it was dishonoured—he called on me next day and asked me to hold it and he would pay it in a week or so—I told him it was dishonoured—he has not paid it.
Cross-examined. You had a sample dozen of handkerchiefs a day or two before and paid for them.
WILLIAM GRAYSON . I am warehouseman to Samuel Quarrel, warehouseman, of King Street, Cheapside—on 24th March the. prisoner gave me this cheque for 1l. 8s. 4d. on the Birkbeck Bank and took away the goods he purchased—the cheque was dishonoured—on 25th March before I knew of the dishonour he gave this cheque for 2l. 1s. for goods; that was also disHonoured—I saw no more of him until he was at the Mansion House.
The prisoner in his defence entered at great length into his various transactions, and asserted that he had no fraudulent intent, that he fully expected to be able to meet the cheques when he gave them, and if the parties had waited everyone would have been paid.
THE COMMON SERJEANT left the following question to the Jury, whether when the prisoner presented the cheques he did so fraudulently, with intent to obtain the goods by fraud, or in the bonafide belief that he would or might
have the means of meeting them although at the time he gave them the balance in his favour was not sufficient. Referring to the decision of Mr. Justice Lush yesterday in "Reg. v. Marks (see page 469) he would reserve the point whether the presentation of the cheques where the prisoner had not funds to meet them was such a false pretence as was contemplated by the statute.
PATRIOK SHANDLEY , an inspector of police at Manchester, proved a conviction of the prisoner there, in March, 1870, of a similar offence when he was sentenced to one years' imprisonment. Judgment Reserved.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
492. ELIZABETH BARRETT (19), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, a set of sleeves and a lace collar; also, to stealing a snuff-box and a pair of gold studs, the property of Frederick Carter, her master— Six Months' Imprisonment.
KATE LAWSON . I am barmaid at the North Woolwich Gardens—on 16th September, in the evening, the prisoner came to my compartment and I served him with Ad. worth of gin—he tendered a florin; I tried it in the tester, gave it back to him, and told him it was bad—he said "Oh, is it," and pulled out a good one—I took them both out of his hand, gave him in custody, and called Mr. Charles Holland.
EMMA BAKER . I am a barmaid at the North Woolwich Gardens, and serve some little distance from the last witness—on 16th September I served the prisoner with some gin—he gave me a bad florin—I told him it was bad and he gave me a good one, and asked for it back again or he would be the loser—I refused, and gave it to the sergeant—I afterwards saw him in custody at the station and identified him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I hesitated in recognising you because you were stooping taking your boots off—I did not see any one else with a white jacket that night—I am positive I am not mistaken.
The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that he did not go into the gardens till 10 o'clock, and he therefore could not have tendered the money to Baker, and that he did not know that the other florin was bad, or where he received it.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HARMSWORTH conducted the Prosecution.
DONALD GORDON . I live at 73, Georges Road, Southwark—on, Saturday night, 10th inst., about 12.30—as I was crossing the Waterloo Bridge Road, near the Obelisk, a man made a rush at me and snatched at my watch—I had my coat open—I put my left elbow down over my pocket—the man then put his head down and tried to butt me in the stomach, and so I hit him a blow on the left ear, and seized him by the collar and said I would take him off to the police-station—I had only gone a few paces with him in my grasp when about four men made a rush at me, one of them caught me round the throat, and in the struggle I was knocked down—I still held the first man—I was kicked all over the body while I was on the ground—I have not been able to use my hand, since—one of the men caught hold of my chain and pulled the watch out of my pocket and they all ran away—I got up and tried to pursue them, but my knee cap, which I bad put out a short time before, had been hurt by the fall, and I found I could only limp—I have not seen my watch since—I afterwards went to the police-station and gave information—some men were shown to me, but I failed to identify the prisoner—I can only say he resembles the first man who attacked me from his height—I noticed the man when I held him he was much smaller than myself—I thought it was rather cool his attacking a tall man—I was helped to the station—during the time of the struggle, the witness Coombes called out to me "You had better let him go I know the man"—I was calling "Police" I all the time, but there was no assistance I seized a black silk scarf that one of the men had on and I gave that up to the police.
STEPHEN COOMBES . I live at 225, Waterloo Road—about 12.30 on this Saturday night, I was ind-oors going to bed—I heard some one calling, "Police!"I want out to the door, and saw the prosecutor holding the prisoner, and one man was running away, then I saw three or four come back, and they knocked him down—the man got from him and they all ran away—he was assaulted when he was on the ground, and I said to him "Let go, I know the man by sight, and don't be kicked about in that way," I am sure the prisoner is the man—there was a lamp near where it occurred and I have been in the habit of seeing the prisoner for twelve months—I gave a description of him to the police, and I afterwards went to the station where I saw a number of men and I picked out the prisoner.
ALFRED MARTIN . I live at 225, Waterloo Road, the same house as Coombes—on this night I was just going to bed and heard a man calling "Police!"in the street—I looked out of the window and saw the prosecutor holding the prisoner by the collar—some men then hustled the prosecutor, and he was knocked down in the gutter and he complained of having his
knee put out—I saw the prisoner's face three or four times and I could swear to the man—I had seen him before—I afterwards went to the station and picked him out.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent I was not there at the time. I know nothing about it.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution; MESSRS. GRIFFITHS and SMITH defended Bennett; and MR. SIMS defended Kenzett.
JAMES WESTAWAY . I am a gardner at Ashburton, in Devonshire, and also near Staverton—during the summer I had about fourteen tons of fruit to dispose of—I have a step-son whose name is John Red away—about the middle of July he came to London, and I authorised him to advertise in the London papers for the purpose of finding purchasers—I subsequently received a communication from Bennett and Co.—I have not been able to find that letter—I received other letters from Bennett and Co., but I think it was in consequence of the first letter that I sent a sample of the fruit—afterwards, during the month of September, I sent fruit from time to time—on 12th September I sent 3 tons 4 cwt. of apples and 4 1/2 cwt. of pears, the charge for which was 38l. 5s.—on 19th September 1 ton 5 cwt. of apples, 16 cwt. of pears, 21l. 15s.—that includes the hampers and empties—in consequence of a telegram I sent 38 lbs. of grapes at 1s. 9d. per lb., and on the 22nd I sent 18 lbs.—on the 25th I sent 1 ton 10 cwt of pears, 18l. 5s., and 3 tons of apples, 25l. 15s.—on 26th September 1 ton 5 cwt of apples, 10l. 12s. 6d., 11 cwt of pears 6l. 17s. 6d., and the total value of the fruit sent was about 130l.—they were consigned to Bennett and Co., 74, Little Britain—I authorised my step-son to receive the money for the fruit. James Reddaway. I have seen Bennett write and know his handwriting perfectly well—these letters are in his writing.
JOHN WESTAWAY (continued). These are the letters I received from time to time in the progress of sending the fruit to London—there is one letter missing, and it was in the same handwriting as these—it was concerning the quantity of fruit I had to sell, asking for samples and the price—I sent a sample and received a letter from Bennett to say he would give me 8l. 10s. for apples and 12l. 10s. for pears all round, and after the receipt of the goods he would send the cash within seven days—the 14th August was the day of the first consignment—I must have received another letter before that—I sent all the fruit and got none of the money—the statement made in the letters was that H. Bennett and Co. were merchants at 74, Little Britain—I received a letter from my step-son during the progress of the matter stating that they were salesmen in Covent Garden Market—all the consignments were addressed to 74, Little Britain.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Two or three letters passed before any fruit was sent at all—I asked my step-son when he was in London to call at Bennett and Co.'s and describe the fruit to them which I had, and then I received a communication from him—my son went into Mr. Bennett's employment—I can't say when that was—I received a letter from Mr. Bennett complaining that the fruit was wet and damaged—fruit is apt to damage if it lays by any length of time—there was no agreement that I was
to supply him with twenty-five tons of fruit—I have seen a letter stamped with an agreement stamp—the stamp has been put on since the letter left me—the prisoner supplied the hampers—I said before the Magistrate that I parted with my fruit on the representation made to me by my son that all was right, that was, that they were great salesmen in Covent Garden Market, and great merchants as well.
Re-examined. The fruit I gathered was as sound good fruit as was ever grown—these stamps were not on the letters when I wrote them—I sent all the fruit at the price agreed upon, and I have not received a farthing in payment.
By THE COURT. I came up to London to ask them for the money—I received a telegram from my son to come at once for he thought it was a bad case—I came up and saw them both taken into custody—the detective went with me—I saw Kenzett in the Lower Marsh, that was about a month ago, about the end of September—the last consignment was on the 26th of September.
JOHN REDDAWAY (recalled). I am the step-son of the prosecutor—I live at John Street, Hanway Street, Tottenham Court Road—I came to town in search of employment about the 12th July this year, and I inserted an advertisement in the newspapers with reference to the sale of the fruit—a day or two after that I called on the defendants at 74, Little Britain, in consequence of a letter I received from my step-father—I saw Bennett in the first instance—the name of Bennett and Co. was on the door—I gave Bennett a description of the fruit and told him to apply to my step-father for further particulars—he said he would—I did not mention the price—I called again at the same place in a few days and I again saw Bennett—the first time T called I told him I was out of employment and asked him if he knew of anything, and he asked me to call in again—on the second occasion he asked me what employment I wanted and whether I should like to come with them—I said I would think over it and call again another day—the next time I called I saw Kenzett and repeated to him what I had said to Bennett—he spoke to me about the situation—I had never seen him before—I did not know who he was when I went in, but he said he was Bennett's partner and that they were merchants—he asked me if I would like to come in their office—I said I did not understand anything about the business—he said "Well, just think it over and call again another day," so I took further time to consider—the next time I called I saw Bennett and he then told me he was a fruit salesman in Covent Garden Market—that was through me asking him what the work was to be—I asked him what I should have to do and he said I should have to keep the books for a little time, and after I had been a little time with them he would take me in the market with him—I waited two or three days and then I called in again as Kenzett was not there before—I saw them both and talked about my coming to accept the appointment and I was, to stay with them for one month—Bennett offered me 15s. a week—Kenzett said that was not enough, they would give me 1l.—I said on those terms I would come to work for them—I was to have 1l. a week for a couple of months and after that. I was to go out into the country for them to buy goods, to keep them supplied in Covent Garden Market and to sell for them as well—I entered upon my duties on the 7th September at the office, 74, Little Britain—I stayed there a month within two or three days—I was there every day—I kept up a communication with my step-father during that time—one basket of grapes came there
and that was all—I never saw any business carried on there—there was a desk and two chairs and an inkstand in the office and there were a few samples of hair for stuffing sofas and chairs, a piece of leather, some tobacco, a lot of engravings of fenders, and tools, and machinery, and there was some glue—after. I had been there about eight days Kenzett took me out with him and we had a glass of ale, and he said he should like me to go and sell that kind of machinery, of which they had the patterns—he showed me a book of patterns—I said if I thought I could get a living by it I should be very glad to do so after they had put me in the way a little—I did not go out—there were no books kept except one they used to copy the letters in sometimes—Bennett did the writing in that and sometimes Kenzett—there is none of my writing in it—I never wrote anything while I was there—I never kept any books—these letters are in Bennett's handwriting—I have often seen him write—I had nothing at all to do during the month I was there—I spoke to Bennett one day about it and he said "Well, I will change your duties next week"—he told me that the reason I had no books to keep was that the former clerk had left them and taken away 200l. or 300l., and therefore the books were not fit for me to keep—I was satisfied with that explanation—I had authority from my step-father to receive the money for the fruit consigned and I asked Bennett to send a cheque for the first lot of goods—he said he would send at once—I repeated my request the next day and he said he was in a very great hurry, he was going down to Covent Garden Market and he would send the cheque on from there—I had asked him if the first lot of fruit had arrived and he said "Yes," and he told me that it was rather damp and that the large and small fruit was mixed together—I asked if I should come and help to sort it, but I did not see it at all—he did not tell me where or how he sold it—the last time I saw Bennett at the office was on the Saturday that I asked him for the cheque, and he said he would send it on when he got to the Market—that was three weeks after I had been there—up to that time I had been to the office every day—Kenzett was frequently there for the first two weeks and then he told me he was going down into the country to bury his sister, and I never saw him again until he was apprehended—I was not paid any wages for the time I was there—I did not ask—they had letters come there addressed to the firm and occasionally some one called—they seemed to be business men—I don't recollect anybody named Eaton calling—I never went to the banker's for them—I have seen a cheque book but I never saw a cheque drawn—when I asked Bennett for the cheque he took one out of the box, put. it in his pocket, and said he would send it.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. When I went into the employment I said I did not know anything and they said they would teach me—I saw a book in which they kept copies of their letters; it was locked in the desk—I did not know they had got a place at Lower Marsh, Lambeth, where the fruit was stored—I did not apply to them for any wages—I was to be paid at the end of the week, and I was there a month all but four days, I think—a Mr. Perry, a tailor, called there occasionally—I left on the Tuesday, I can't tell you what day of the month it was—when I asked Bennett for the cheque he said "Do they want a cheque on account, or do they want to be paid for the first lot of goods"—I said "They want to be paid for the first lot of goods"—he said "I will send it on, but if I do I expect they will allow 5 per cent."
Cross-examined by MR. SIMS. In the advertisement I put in the paper I gave my father's address in Devonshire, not my own, and it was after I had heard from my father that I went to Little Britain—I went there several times before I was finally engaged—I have not said before that the first time I went I saw Kenzett; the first time I saw Kenzett he told me his partner was a salesman in Covent Garden Market—that is what I said—Kenzett presented himself to me as being in the drapery line—I know how that they had a place in Lower Marsh—I did not know they had one then—I will swear that I saw Kenzett write a letter and take a copy off in the letter book—I saw that done two or three timed—I was out of employment about a month before I went there—I have been a gentleman's servant—Kenzett recommended me to take a coffee-house—he told me most gentlemen's servants did that—something was said about going into a merchant's office, and I said I had no knowledge of it—Kenzett told me if I would call again he would speak to Mr. Bennett, and he would probably find some one who would take me, and the next time I saw them both together, and the arrangement was made that I was to have 1l. a week—Kenzett told me he had nothing to do with the fruit himself, the dry goods were generally his line—he said he was a salesman of drapery.
Re-examined. This is the first time I have looked in the letter book, that is to read anything—I have seen it on the desk—the machinery was only in patterns—this label is in my mother's handwriting.
ROBERT DYER . I keep a fruiterer's shop in the Upper Marsh—in September I bought two pads of apples of Kenzett and gave him 10s. for them—I don't know that that was below the market price, because they were small apples—he was standing at the door as I was passing—he was Sorting apples and throwing them in the road—I asked him what he wanted for them, and he said 6l. a ton—I said "Two will do for me; I will give you 10s. for the two," so I gave him 10s.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. It was a good price—I wanted some to go on with at night—this was at Lower Marsh, and I live at Upper Marsh—that was the first time I saw the apple place there.
ROBERT DAVIS (Detective Officer L). I received a warrant on 30th September, and apprehended Kenzett at 34, tower Marsh—Bennett was handed over to me at the police-station as I had the warrant—he said he was a merchant, at 74, Little Britain—I had kept observation on the house in Lower Marsh the day previous—I had seen Kenzett there, but not Bennett—I saw fruit delivered" by the Great Western Railway vans—I examined the premises afterwards and found nearly 120 hampers of fruit: apples and pears—there was a quantity of rotten fruit and empty flats in the cellar—I found a pair of scales and 11s., in money on a shelf—Kenzett was there at the time—there was no name over the door—I found this label and other papers on Bennett—I can't find that Bennett has any, place of business as a fruit salesman in Covent Garden Market—I found a cheque book on Bennett of Messrs. Soloman, Cowen & Co., Bankers—there is no such bank as that in existence—they are printed forms—I went to 74, Little Britain and examined the office; there I found a table, a stool, a desk, a cash box, a quantity of samples, such as leather, glue, pins, &c.—I brought them all away in a bag—there was nothing in the cash box but some old brass-headed nails.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. From inquiries I made, I found there had been a firm of Soloman Cowen &Co., at 16, Mark Lane, in 1868—I
don't think there was any banking, but I won't swear there was not—I found this bundle of cheques signed Mr. Bennett, and this bank pass-book—these two stamped agreements were found in the office, and were handed to the attorney at the police-court.
Cross-examined by MR. SIMS. I have seen Bennett, at Lower Marsh, but he was not there at the time I took Kenzett.
MAURICE GREEN . I live at 4, Little Britain, and am the landlord of the offices occupied by Bennett and Company—I let them furnished to Mr. Bennett and another gentleman, a Frenchman—Bennett said he wanted the office for his uncle—I think it was the beginning of June, I let them—I have seen him there from time to time, but I did not live in the house—I got one month's rent in advance and that was all—from August up to September, I have seen Kenzett there.
Cross-examined by MR. SIMS. It was the end of August, I believe I first saw Kenzett.
BENNETT— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. KENZETT— Twelve months' Imprisonment.
499. ALFRED MASTER SPENSLEY (25) [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image] , to three indictments for feloniously forging and uttering orders for the payment of money, also to embezzling the sums of 3l. 12s., 5l. 8s., and 16l., of Samuel George Mason and another, his masters, who recommended him to mercy— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
THE COURT directed the Jury that they must acquit the prisoner as she had made some preparation for the child, which was enough to satisfy the law.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE UPHSON (Detective Officer M), On 18th October, I saw the prisoner, Ward (see next case), by the Red Lion, at the corner of Blackman Street—they went in and Brown came out in about three minutes leaving Ward inside—I lost sight of him, but he came back, and Ward saw him and came out and spoke to him—I got assistance, I then took hold of Brown searched him and found six bad shillings, 2s. 6d. in good money and 4d. in bronze.
Prisoner's Defence. I gave a half-sovereign to a prostitute to take 6d. out and she gave me the bad money in change.
He was further charged with a conviction of a like offence in February, 1874, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. (See next case.)
MESSES. DE MICHELE and BUCK conducted the Prosecution.
Ward's statement before the Magistrate: "I had just come home from sea, I saw Brown in the public-house, I had been with a girl I gave her a florin and she gave me a shilling. I had a good discharge from the navy." Ward's Defence. I was paid off and received 4l. 15s. I did not know the shilling was bad or I would not have kept it in my pocket a moment—here is my discharge from the St. Vincent, I was invalided at Haslar Hospital.
Brown. Ward might have been with the same girl and got one of the same shillings.
WARD— NOT GUILTY .
BROWN— GUILTY — Eighteen Month Imprisonment.
MESSRS. DE MICHELE and BUCK conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
HESTER HOWARD . I am assistant to Mr. Miller, a draper, of 64, East Street, Walworth—on Tuesday evening, 29th September, between 8 and 9 o'clock, I served the prisoner with half a yard of black ribbon, she gave me a florin; I said "This is a bad one"—I went with it to a gentleman next door and then told her that she might keep it—she said that I might and went away—this is it (produced)—I gave it to the constable—I am quite sure the prisoner is the person.
Cross-examined. I never have a doubt about anything—I know that witnesses were called at the police-court to prove that the prisoner was elsewhere—it was about 8.30.
LOUISA SHARPE . I am a widow and keep a draper's shop at 4, East Street Walworth—on 30th September I sold the prisoner a pair of white stockings she gave me a florin, I told her it was bad and sent for the last witness who lives in the same street—I sent for a constable and gave the prisoner in charge—I then said "I believe you are the person who was let off last night, I know you by your shawl and hat and I must send up the street for the person"—she said "Oh, dear no I am not"—I said "I believe you are"—she said that a man gave her the coin and I think she said last night, and that she got her living in the streets.
Cross-examined. She said that she was innocent and she would stay where she was—I understood from her that she was an unfortunate girl.
JESSE PETERS (Policeman P 435). I was called and took the prisoner at Mrs. Sharpe's shop who gave me this bad florin in Hester Howard's presence—the prisoner was crying and saying that she was very sorry and she did not know it was bad—she denied offering one the night before—she said at the station that she got her living on the streets and a gentleman gave it to her.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ANN DAY . I am the wife of John Day, of 14, Harriett Street, Lower Marsh, Lambeth—the prisoner is my sister—on Thursday, 29th September I saw her the whole day, she slept in the same room with me, and was with me between 6 and 10 o'clock, p.m.—Thomas Bennett a friend of my husband's camp in about 7 o'clock and did not leave till past 9 o'clock—he is here—my sister is an unfortunate girl but she has not been convicted that I know of.
Cross-examined by MR. DE MICHELE. Q. If the prisoner says that she was with a man at the night before is that true? A. She did not say so; I sent her out for some beer—my husband was here yesterday, but could not come to-day.
THOMAS BENNETT . I live in Mint Street, Borough—on Tuesday night, 29th September, I met Day in Blackfriars Road and he asked me to go home and have a cup of tea—it was about 7 o'clock when I went there and I did not go till 9 o'clock; that is at 14,-Harriett Street—I saw the prisoner there—I did not see her go out.
Cross-examined. It was the last Tuesday in September—I did not see her the day before or the day after—I know it was 7 o'clock because Mr. Day leaves a little after 6 o'clock—I did not go home with him the day before or the day before that—I do not know whether the prisoner has been in trouble before.
Witness in Reply.
CHARLES PEGG (Policeman L 54). I produce a certificate of the prisoner's former conviction. (Read: "Central Criminal Court, January, 1875, Jane Frond convicted of uttering a counterfeit florin. Sentence One Fear's Imprisonment") The prisoner is the same girl.
She was further charged with the former conviction above-mentioned, to which she
PLEADED GUILTY— Two Years' Imprisonment
MESSRS. DE MICHELE and BUCK conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT defended Stoney.
No evidence was offered against
EVANS— NOT GUILTY .
THOMAS BRADFIELD . I am barman at the Lord Rodney, Westminster Road—on 16th October, about 11.45, the prisoners and another all came in and had something to drink—Stoney and Evans were in one compartment and Bassett and an old gentleman in another—Bassett gave me a florin which I put in the till—Stoney then called for some drink, and gave me a florin—I put that in the till and gave him change—Bassett then had something to drink and gave me a third florin—I tried it and it bent—I then looked at the other two florins and found they were bad—they were not in the till—Mrs. Bucks had cleared the till at 12 o'clock before I served the prisoners—I called in two policemen and gave two of the florins to Melville and the other to Bellchambers—when I got over the bar to fetch a constable I met Stoney at the door going away—I did not give any florins in change to any one after 12 o'clock as there were none there—nobody used that till but me.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. The two compartments adjoin one another—the old gentleman was not the man who was called before the Magistrate—Evans and Stoney were in the compartment about tea minutes
before Bassett came in—they were altogether about half an hour in the house—I heard Stoney say when he was taken that he was barman at the Drummond Hotel, but I did not hear him say that he had seen Bassett there.
Re-examined. Stoney invited Bassett to come from one compartment to the other to have a drop.
WILLIAM MELVILLE (Policeman). I was called and Bassett was given into my custody—he said that he knew nothing of the other prisoners—I received these two florins (produced) from Bradfield—I found on Bassett 2s. 6d. in silver, and 1s. 5d. in bronze.
JOHN BELLCHAMBERS (Policeman L 50). On 17th October, about 12.25,. I was called to the Rodney and met Stoney coming out—I received a communication and followed him—took him back to the house, searched him, and found a shilling, 5d., two cigars and a watch and chain—while searching him Evans came in—Bradfield gave me the florin of 1871—Stoney said he had no bad money about him, he was innocent.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Stoney gave me his address as barman at Drummond's Hotel, and he had left a fortnight before—he said "I have been barman there"—he did not. give me any other address—I made inquiries there.
EDWARD SMITH ."I keep the Smiths' Arms, Park Street, Southwark—on the 16th October I was at the Rodney reading the paper and saw the three prisoners in front of the bar—Bassett pressed against me and I removed to a lower part of the seat—the two men then came together towards me—I saw Stoney take a little blue paper out of his pocket—he took the blue paper off and under it was a white paper—I saw some florins there, and he said "Ain't they looking fine"—he then turned towards the counter-which brought his back to me—the packet was about an inch high.
Cross-examined. There were three gas lights—I have been a great sufferer in taking counterfeit coin.
SARAH JANE BUCKS . I am the wife of Heny Bucks, who keeps the Rodney public-house—on the evening of 16th October I cleared the till at 11 a.m., again at 12 o'clock, and took out all the money except two shillings and three sixpences—I left no florins there on either occasion—I took the money into the bar parlour, counted it at 12.30, and found two bad coins.
Bassett's Defence. I got change for a sovereign near Westminster Bridge. This chap, who had seen me at Drummond's Hotel, said he would treat me, but I should not have stayed there if I had known they were passing bad money.
BASSETT and STONEY GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment each ,
MESSRS. DE MICHELE and BUCK conducted the Prosecution.
ANNIE BILES . I live at 13, St. George's Road, Southwark—on Wednesday night, 7th October, the prisoner Jackson and the next prisoner Jones came to my father's fish stall—they each had 1d. worth of eels—Jones gave me a shilling; the other one stood by—I gave Jones lod. change—I took the shilling in to my father and found it was bad—I came out again and
told Jones it was bad—she said she did not give me a bad shilling—I did not speak to Jackson—she heard what was going on—my father called the police, and they were given into custody—they had been to our shop before and bought two baked potatoes—Jones then gave me a two shilling piece, and I gave 1s. 11d. change—I felt very doubtful about the two shilling piece—I called our man and he said it was bad, and we went to find them and could not find them.
JAMES LEVETT . I am in the employ of Mr. Biles—I was there on Friday night, 2nd October—I saw both the prisoners there—they bought two half-penny baked potatoes—Jackson stood aside of Jones—they were rather in a hurry—one wanted to pay and the other wanted to pay—Jones paid—a bad florin was shown to me—I broke it.
Prisoner. I was not there on that night.
FRANCIS BILES . On Friday night, the 2nd October, a bad shilling was given to me by my daughter—I bit it and broke it in halves—I went outside—they were standing eating eels at the stall—I told them they had given my daughter a bad shilling—they said they had given a shilling but it was good—I gave it to the constable, also two pieces of a florin which I got from my young man—I never knew anything about a two-shilling piece until the morning we went to the Court—they kept it secret from me because there had been so many pieces taken and I blowed them up.
JOHN M'CONNELL (Policeman L 139). I took the prisoners in charge—they said it was a good shilling they gave—at the station they would not give their name and address for some time—Jackson was asked her age and said eighty-four—I got the bad shilling from Mr. Biles and the florin.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were asked your name and address and refused to give it.
MR. BUCK conducted the Prosecution.
The same evidence was given as in the last case. A previous conviction was proved against Jackson.
JACKSON— Two Years' Imprisonment. JONES— Twelve Months' Imprisonment
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUITY .
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM SMITH . I live at No. 9, Acre Place, Battersea, and am a china dealer—I have been in the habit of having pots and earthenware pans from Johnson and Co., commonly called the Ditching Pottery Company—in June I had some pots from them of the value of 8s.—they were brought by the prisoner with what purported to be a receipt—this is the paper signed "J. Gray" for Messrs. Johnson and Co.—I knew Mr. Gray as the agent of Johnson and Co., the Ditchling Pottery Company—I paid the money and he gave me that receipt.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. There was not a boy with a barrow there when you brought me that receipt—I paid you when you unloaded the pots—you told me you were[Assumed guilty: see original trial image] employed by Mr. Gray to bring them to me.
By THE COURT. He has sold me pots before, but I never had a bill or receipt—I paid him the money and never had a receipt.
JAMES LUSH GRAY . I live at 10, Crescent Place, Clapham—I am foreman to Mr. Johnson—that is the Ditchling Potteries Company—I did not send any pots to Mr. Smith—he used to be one of our customers, but has not had anything lately—I did not sign the receipt (now produced)—that is the prisoner's handwriting—I have seen him write and can state positively that that is in his handwriting—he never accounted to me for a sum of 8s. from Mr. Smith.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have not employed people to take pots and boys to mind while you did my work—I have on several occasions been with you with loaded vans to other customers with pots—I have not employed you on several occasions in my office to write letters and sign my name—I did not ask you to write a letter to Miss Carr on Lavender Hill—when you have paid me money I have not been down to the Masons' Arms and spent 2l. or 3l. along with a Mr. Raffle, of Wandsworth, and Mr. Bacon—I have not run up a score and took my Rifle gun and clothes to a public-house and asked you to get money to pay for them—I never told your father that you robbed me of 7s.
By THE COURT. The prisoner used to come in the office—he did not get my Rifle things for me—when I charged him with taking some money of Massey's he said he was going to pay it back to me—that was about six weeks ago—he has come down to the place since then when I have been away—he has never been in the office when I have been there and taken any goods out since six weeks ago, I think not.
Re-examined. I never in my life authorised the prisoner to sign my name—there is no truth in what he has said about my making false entries in the books because I was "hard up"—that is absolutely false—it is all false that he has said about my being away from the office drinking and keeping bad company—gates have been put up at the premises about five or six weeks.
Witness for the Defence.
JAMES ROBERT MANSLOW . When you brought me a lot of goods you signed your name to this receipt (produced)—my son told me you were in charge of the place when he called down—when you came to me for the 10s. I asked the boy who signed the receipt and was told your name was Graham and not Gray—you explained that Gray was the chief clerk.
Cross-examined. I am a witness here in a charge against the prisoner—that has nothing to do with the receipt—the prisoner is charged in the case in which I am a witness with forging a request by James Lush Gray to pay money—I did not pay that money.
Re-examined by the Prisoner You told me you were sent for it to pay for the goods when you came in the afternoon.
The prisoner in his defence all edged that he had the prosecutor's authority to sign his name.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
ALEXANDER MACMULLEN . I am a china dealer at 87, Lupus Street, Pamlico—I never dealt with the Ditchling Potteries Company—on the 29th September the prisoner came and said that he came from Johnson and Co., the Ditchling Potteries, Battersea, and ordered two dozen goblets, two dozen wine-glasses, a decanter, and some other articles—I believed his statement that he was authorized by Johnson and Co., and in consequence of that I sent my assistant with the goods at the time he indicated, between 6 and 7 o'clock in the evening—I ordered him to bring either money or goods back and he brought neither—only this letter, it is in Gray's handwriting—I also got another letter signed "J. Gray."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You called on me at least once before that day to ask for an order—you told me these glasses were for Johnson and Co.
JAMES GORE . I am errand boy to Mr. Macmullen—I remember the prisoner at the bar ordering goods which I afterwards took to the address he gave—that address was Mr. Johnson, Ditchling Potteries, Battersea—I was taking them there when he met me the other side of the bridge—he told me the Pottery was shut up and I could not get in, would I take them to Orkney Street, Battersea, and when we got into Lower Wandsworth Road he said he had no money, and went into a paper shop while I waited outside—I did not see what he did there—when we got up to Orkney Street he gave me a letter—it was in an envelope—that letter I gave to my master.
Cross-examined. I did not look to see if the factory gates were shut—I did not hear you say that the clerk was gone—you persuaded me to leave the goods.
JAMES LUSH GRAY . I did not authorise the prisoner to order goods of Mr. Macmullen—he is not a customer of ours—I am not a customer of his—he has had no goods at all from the Ditchling Potteries Company—I am the sole agent in London of that Company—the letters produced are in the prisoner's handwriting—I did not sign them, or either of them—I was at home at Clapham when he wrote the last letter—my employers came down to see his father about the goods, and his father comes up to my office, and Mr. Johnson goes down to the prisoner's house, and it was arranged that his father was to come up next day with Graham, and Graham would not come—Graham was to come up at 4 o'clock the next afternoon, and I waited till 4 o'clock, and then went to see Mr. Johnson—Mr. Macmullen's boy and Graham came almost at the same time, almost met on the steps—Graham ran and got under the table—the boy left the note, and I said to Graham "Here is somebody for you," and he ran away as if he was frightened—he did not say anything afterwards; he said he had ordered the goods.
Cross-examined The boy first handed me the note and went off—I did not close the door and talk to him on the step—there is no truth in that—I am still in the Ditchling Potteries employ, and have been for some years—they have made no complaints except that you took goods and drew the money for them, and they looked to me for the money—I do not know what you mean when you ask me "do you know the amount of money deficient in your accounts?"—I have no book here—I did not know that you were robbing me all the time. (The letters were signed J. S. Gray.)
Road—on the 29th September, about 8 o'clock in the evening, I bought of the prisoner two dozen tumblers and a dozen wine glasses at 3s. 1d.—he took them out of a hamper—I cannot say whether there was anything else in it—he asked me to buy those things as samples from the pottery, representing Johnson, the Ditchling Pottery—no one was with him.
Cross-examined. I thought you to be in the employ of Johnson Co.—You have delivered pots to my place from the firm—the first time was in April—Gray, the managing man, called for an order and you brought the goods—then another time you came to me and asked me for an order—I gave you an order, and you delivered them yourself—that was in August.
JAMES LUSH GRAY (re-examined). I never knew you had ordered the goods until they came down to me for the money—that is not the only place at which you served me so in the neighbourhood—I did not give you the paper, and pen and ink in my office to write the letter to Mr. Macmullen to say I would pay when the boy called between 10 and 12 o'clock.
Re-examined. I did not know Mr. McMullen, and had never seen him in my life.
The Prisoner made a long statement impugning Gray's honesty, and asserting his own innocence.
GUILTY .—A previous conviction was proved against him— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. C. MATTHEWS defended Cullen.
CHARLES BRADY . I live at 5, Colt Lane, Bethnal Green—I am an engine driver—on Saturday, the 3rd October, I was lodging at 52, Tiverton Street, Southwark—about midnight, on that Saturday, I was in the Borough, close by St. George's Church, going to my lodging—I was quite sober—I had had something to drink, but I was not drunk—it was about 12.5, as near as I can tell—Moulton struck me in the chest, the other put his foot to my heel—I was thrown on my back, and the back of my head was broken open—I was kicked by Cullen, and they both fell on me and rifled both my pockets—I could feel a hand in each pocket, but had not the power to stop them—they took what I had out of my trousers pocket, both sides, but two india-rubber rings, and the money I had in my fob pocket escaped their notice—I called out for police as well as I could—when the police assisted me up I saw a woman there and fancied she might have been with them—my head was cut open, and my landlord cut the hair off and strapped it up.
Cross-examined. I do not know how many public-houses I had been into that night; three or four—I can tell you the last one I was in—I had something to drink, but was not drunk—the last I had to drink was a pint of ale at the American Stores in Fenchurch Street—no spirits; I do not drink spirits; it is very seldom—I had been in public-houses in the day, from 12 o'clock, as well as the night—I went home and had a lie down, as I mostly do, when I go home early on the Saturday—you may take it, that between 12 o'clock in the day and 12 o'clock on Saturday night, I had been in public-houses.
Cross-examined by Moulton. I do not suppose it was 20 yards off St. George's Church that this happened—I did not sea a female with the two
men, not till after I was assisted up, then I saw a female, and fancied she was in their company—I could not swear that—my money was all right until I got up to St. George's Church—I know it was all right the minute before you took it—I do not suppose you were more than a minute knocking me down and taking my money; it was done so suddenly and quick—when I sung out for help, 84 if, was the constable that came over to me—the prisoners were in custody from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour after it happened—I saw the constable directly after I was robbed—he helped me off the ground.
STEPHEN WEBB (Policeman 84 M). On Saturday night, the 3rd of October, I was near the Blue Eyed Maid public-house—I saw the two prisoners come out together just before 12 o'clock—I went a little way and stopped at Chapel Place—I got in the dark and watched them—while I was watching them the prosecutor came along from London Bridge apparently the worse for drink—when he got to where Moulton was standing he struck him a blow in the chest, and the other fell on him—I went to the spot, and before I got there the prisoners ran away—I assisted the prosecutor to get up, and asked if he had been robbed—he said "Their hands were in my pocket"—I followed the prisoners through Red Cross Square, and went back to the prosecutor and asked him what money he had lost—he said "4s. or 5s. "—I told him to stop where he was till he saw me again—I then went into Mint Street and searched a lodging-house kept by Levy—then I saw Wright, and searched the lodging-house—they were not there, but just as we came out of the door, I saw them coming along from the direction of Red Cross Street, where they ran—I took Moulton into custody, and pointed the other out to Wright—I told Moulton the charge—he made no reply—I then handed him over to Police Constable 25 M R—the prosecutor was sober enough to take my advice to stop in the place I left him—I searched Cullen and found on him 2d. in copper—I am positive these are the men that came out of the Blue Eyed Maid.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. I said before the Magistrate that they went down Red Cross Court—they had to go down there to get into the Square—it was from Red Cross Street, the other way, that the prisoners returned.
Cross-examined by MOULTON, I should think it was a hundred yards off St. George's Church that I saw you knock the man down—Mr. Brady had been drinking, but he was not drunk—the knocking down and robbing him was done instantly—I was watching the prisoners—the reason why I did not take Moulton in charge when I saw him strike Brady was, that I could not catch either of you—it was not a dull night—it was done right under a lamp post—I cannot say whether it was moonlight.
GEORGE WRIGHT (Detective Officer M). On Saturday night the 3rd or Sunday morning the 4th October I went with Webb to Levy's lodging-house in Mint Street—after we left there we saw the prisoners against the door—I told Cullen I wanted him for robbing and assaulting a man in High Street—he said "You have made a mistake it is not so, if you search me you will not find the money on me"—I searched him—2d. was found on him and a halfpenny on Moulton—I had seen them two or three hours previous to that.
JOHN FORD (Policeman 307 M). About midnight on Saturday the 3rd October I was near Chapel Court—there I saw a crowd—I went across the road—Cullen ran away and another man with him—I went further across to where the crowd was and Brady said he was robbed.
Cross-examined by Moulton. I should think it is 50 or 80 yards from Chapel Place to St. George's Church.—I cannot swear to seeing you in the crowd.
Moulton's statement before the Magistrate: "I should like to have up the witness Mr. Evans to prove I was outside his doors at 11.30, and in the fish shop a little before 12 o'clock—this man asked me to come up and have. some coffee with him as he had 2d. left, and so we went up and the constable took us."
MOULTON'S DEFENCE. I never saw this man before, till after 12 o'clock when he asked me if I would have a cup of coffee, and as I was going by the constable ran up and took hold of me, and I was like as if I was para lysed and could not hardly speak.
Witness for Moulton.
JACOB LEVY . I am a lodging house keeper in Mint Street—I know Moulton—I stated before the Magistrate in the flurry, that he paid me on the Sunday night, but he did not do it on Sunday night at all—he paid me on Saturday night between 11 and 12 o'clock—he did not go to bed then—after he gave me the money he went out—I could not exactly tell what time he left my door because so many came in and out—I do not know how long he stood talking to me, it would be stating that which I do not know to be fact—he may have been there ten minutes, a quarter of an hour, or a minute to my knowledge.
A previous conviction was proved against Cullen, and both were stated to bear bad characters— Seven Years' Penal Servitude and Twenty-five Lashes each
Before Mr. Justice Denman.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSES. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and HUMPHREYS the Defence.
WILLIAM FRANCIS SHEARS . I am a physician and surgeon of Lower Richmond Road, Putney—on Saturday night, 10th October, about 10.30 I went to Tidy's house in Gay Street, and saw a boy there about two years old, dead—I found a number of bruises and burns on the body, face and arms, a large bruise over the stomach, a very large bruise over the left lip and round the front of the stomach and all down the left leg and about the private—there were also several boles in the skin, which looked like burns with the point of a poker or something of that sort—there was one small wound about the middle of the back—it was an abrasion through both skins, just over the spine where it was very thin—it appeared to be done by a blunt instrument—the burns were not very large or very deep, but sufficient to destroy the skin—there were about a dozen burns on the whole body and half a dozen bruises, but one or two of them were so large that they reached from the uncle to the hip—I don't think they could have been the effect of one injury—there was a burn on the wrist which looked as if a hot poker had been drawn across it, not with the point—the body was very thin and it cooled down very rapidly after death, which is a sign that it had not been well nourished—I made a post mortem, examination on Thursday the 15th, and found two bruises on the head, one about two inches behind the ear, and the other on the crown of the head, and corresponding
with place behind the ear I found a large clot of blood about the size of a walnut, inside the brain—the skull was not fractured—it would be hard to fracture a child's skull, because it is elastic, but it does not follow that harm would not be done inside—death arose from concussion of the brain producing that clot of blood—it was the blow behind the ear which caused that—I don't think the blow on the top of the head would have caused it—the stomach was inflamed on its front surface corresponding with the bruise on the skin and part of the large intestines close to it, that inflamation would not cause death by itself, but I think all the wounds together might have caused death sooner or later without the one behind the ear—the intestines were empty, but healthy—he could not have had much food for several days, but such an absence of nutrition would not have caused death—he did not die of mere starvation—the injur behind the ear must have been done with something blunt, because there was no wound on the skin—I think it must have been something harder than a fist—the child might have fallen on that part, but if so he must have fallen against something projecting, such as a boar, bed, or fire-place—it could not have been done against the ground—he must have fallen heavily—I don't think he fell from a height.
Cross-examined. The concussion of the brain was the result of the blow which produced the mark behind the ear—that blow might have been produced by a hard substance or by a fall.
MARY ANN LUTHER . I live at Blythe Cottages, Putney, and am the wife of James Luther, a clerk—the prisoner was a lodger in our house—she had two children brought there to take care of on the 10th September—she only occupied one room—she had no servant or person with her—the eldest child was about five and the youngest about two—it seemed a healthy child, it could walk of itself—there are only four rooms in the house—her room was over the parlour, and we occupied the kitchen—I heard nothing for the first week, but afterwards my attention was attracted by hearing severe slaps, as if-with the hand—I never saw her touch the children—I spoke to her on several occasions and said I would not have that noise and disturbance in the house; as the children cried, and I should speak to their father or fetch a policeman—she gave as a reason that they were very dirty and hindered her, and that was why she did it—after that she was a great deal better for a day or two, and then she commenced again, but I was away from home a great deal, I did not often see the children.
Cross-examined. I have one child of my own—I never knew one of the children to have a mustard plaster put on its back—there was a box in their room—I don't know where it stood, as I was never in the room—there was no fender—the children were in the yard when I saw them—I have heard her say that the little one could speak.
ELEANOR SADLER . I am the wife of David Sadler, a chimney sweep, and live at the Cooper's Arms, Putney—one day, at the end of September, a fortnight before the prisoner was taken, I was sitting at breakfast in my downstairs room—our yard adjoins the prisoner's yard—I heard a child being very much slapped and heard it crying—a female's voice said "I will learn you to be clean, look at your pinafore, how dirty it is," and then I heard the slaps again, and heard the child cry again—that went on for about half an hour—from the crying I should think the child was a boy about two years old—I have heard crying and whining at other times, but that is the only time I have heard smacks.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Luther's is a detached house—there is a yard at the back—the distance from my house to her back premises is about 18 feet
JOHN TIDY . I am a gardener, of 15, Gay Place, Putney—my wife died in April—I had two children, John Henry, aged two years and nine months and a little girl four years and nine months—I took them to the prisoner to take care of on Saturday, 7th September—she agreed to feed and wash and lodge them for 5s. a week—I gave her 5s. in advance that day, and on the following Saturday I gave her 2s. for the coming week—she asked me for another shilling during the week, which made 3s., and on Saturday I finished the payment with 2s.; and paid her in advance for the following week—she always took a shilling on Saturday night for the coming week—I always cleared up on the Saturday, but did not pay all in advance—I always supplied her with vegetables and a pint and a half of milk—I took the vegetables once or twice a week, cabbages and marrows—I took her two separate half-pounds of steak—I also gave her two separate half pounds of speack—I also gave her to half-pounds of biscuits, halfa pound at a time—the very evening after taking the children I called with the milk, but did not see them—I saw them next on the first Sunday and took them out with me, and I then saw three very distinct marks on the back, of the boy and two on the arm and one on the face, as if he had been struck by a small stick or cane—I took them back to the prisoner and asked her what she meant by those marks—she said that he fell down on the fender, but I understood there was no fender—I told her if I saw any of those marks on him again I should prosecute her—she said she was very sorry for what she had done, but she owned she had slapped them once or twice—I saw them again the next Sunday, the 17th, and took them out for a walk, but saw nothing the matter with them—I gave her notice on 5th October that I was going to take them away on Saturday, the 10th—I called to pay her on Saturday the 10th, but did not see the children—she said they were getting on very nicely except that the boy had got a cold, but she could account for that by his kicking the clothes off at night—" during the evening, a little before 10 o'clock, she brought them round to my place—I had paid her at 5 o'clock, and she said that the money would not satisfy her for the things they had destroyed—I had before that risen her another shilling a week, making 6s., and I then gave her another shilling, which made 7s.—I opened the door to her about 9.45, and she said "I have brought the two children, for Johnny is taken worse"—I asked her if she had had any doctor—she said "No"—she delivered him into my arms and he was quite helpless—she carried him in her arms—I laid him on a bed—I could not see what was the matter with him because it was so dark, but he was quite helpless and in a dying state—I fetched the girl upstairs and then examined the boy and saw a great many marks on his face and arms—he died about twenty minutes after he he came into the house—I had sent for a doctor directly he came in.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Tyler recommended the prisoner to me to take care of the children—she is a friend of mine—I only saw the children three times while they were with her.
Re-examined. I only saw them once during the fortnight before the y were brought to my house—they then appeared well.
stood at my door and saw a woman picking something up from the pavement—I thought she had dropped some mangling as it looked like a bundle of linen, and another parcel lay at her side—she gave one parcel to a little girl and told her to go on with it and she would overtake her, and then she threw something over her shoulder and I saw that it was a little boy about 2 years old—I saw its back and its legs—she went to find something which she had dropped; a shawl, I think, and she was scolding the child dreadfully—I thought it strange that it did not cry or make a sound, and I watched for her return—she turned the corner and then she came back and shook the child opposite my door. and said "Wake up you little wretch do"—the child moaned and she shook it—I watched her to the corner of Gay Street—she stopped and laid it down—Mrs. Warner picked it up and said "My God this child is dead or dying"—I don't say that the woman who shook the child was the prisoner, but she answered "No, it is only asleep, give it to me"—she took it and went round Gay Street with it and I saw her go to Mr. Tidy's door with both the children—the little girl walking and the boy was on her shoulder—she came out directly; she was not in the house a minute—I did not see her face; she had a fall on—she passed my house on her return and went towards her own home—she came from the direction of Mrs. Luther's cottage and returned in that direction.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Warner is not here—she lives a few houses from me.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I think Mrs. Tyler ought to be here. She has got me the children, and was present when the arrangement was made by the father. When they were sick I called her in She advised me to take them to the father.
WILLIAM FRANCIS SHEARS (re-called by MR. WILLIAMS). The mark on the back was only about the size of a threepenny piece—a mustard plaster on the back would leave a mark, and if the child had scratched it would make a sore, but whether it would leave the mark of the mustard plaster all round would depend upon how long the plaster was on.
By THE COURT. The abrasions were certainly not produced by a mustard plaster—the bruises were very extensive—I don't think they could have been produced by a fall, because there were so many together and some of them were too severe to have been produced by falls or by anything except external violence—the one on the head might have been produced by some projecting substance.
JOHN TIDY (re-called by THE COURT). There were marks of injuries on the other child, they appeared like burns—there were also bruises, one or two on the wrist and a very large wound on the left arm, which appeared to be from burning—it is getting on a great deal better now.
Witness for the Defence.
ANNIE TYLER . I live at 16, Gay Street, Putney—I know the prisoner and the prosecutor—I recommended her to Tidy to take care of his children—they met at my bouse when the agreement was made—I saw the children about a week after they went to the prisoner—they appeared quite healthy and very clean—she appeared very fond of them—I think the little one had
been a little bruised from some cause—I only saw them that once at home, but I afterwards saw them at chapel—she has always borne a good character.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
GUILTY, and sentence of Death was passed upon the Prisoner.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 23RD NOVEMBER, 1874.