CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIRST SESSION, HELD NOVEMBER 23RD, 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.
SESSIONS I TO VI.
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, November 23rd, 1874, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. DAVID HENRY STONE, LORD MAYOR of the City of LONDON; The Hon. Sir HENRY SINGES KEATING , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; The Hon. Sir CHARLES POLLOCK , Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS , Esq., WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN , Esq., ROBERT BESLEY , Esq., Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q. C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN , ESQ., CHARLES WHETHAM , Esq., and WILLIAM MCARTHUR , Esq., M.P., others of the 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.
STONE, MAYOR. FIRST 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, November 23rd, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
1. RICHARD ARTHUR CARDEN (42), and CHARLES CLAVERHOUSE MURRAY (18) , Were charged upon several indictments for forging and uttering three orders for 2l. with intent to defraud; also for unlawfully obtaining nineteen cheques from the Cheque Bank by false pretences.
CARDEN PLEADED GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. No evidence was offered against MURRAY.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
THOMAS HUSSEY . I live at 96, High Street, Kensington, and am a builder—I saw an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph in consequence of which I went to Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square, to see a horse—I saw the prisoner and a stableman—I told the prisoner I had come to see the large horse—he said he had sold that one, but there was another one there that he thought would answer my purpose—he asked for what purpose I wanted it—I told him for a builder's brick cart—he told me that his name was Conolly, and he was in business with his father as an ice merchant at 9a, Irongate Wharf, Caledonian Road, and that he had been driving that horse in an ice cart all the summer, and in consequence of the weather getting colder and the ice trade falling off he no longer required it, that he had driven it with 27 or 28 cwt. of ice and would go at the rate of 7 or 8 miles an hour—I asked to have the horse brought out and he had it brought outside—he said it would be impossible to run it on the stones as one shoe was off, but he would have that put on and I could send for the horse next morning and take it on trial for a week—I did not agree to purchase it—I was going to take it on trial and not pay for it, but he objected and said he must certainly have the money as I was a stranger; that he was perfectly respectable and that I need not be afraid of depositing the money with him.—I was induced chiefly to take the horse on account of the statement that he had been driving it all the summer with 26 or 27 cwt, and if it would
do that it would do all that I required of it—I should have taken the horse on trial, but I should not have deposited the money if he had not said anything about his business as an ice merchant—he said I must pay the money as he did not know more of me than I knew of him—that was on the Saturday—I left 2l. on the Saturday night; I had no more money then, and for that he gave me this receipt in the name of Conolly—I objected to there being no stamp on the receipt—he said he could not get one as it was evening, but he would write it out with a proper stamp when I sent for the horse on the Monday—the receipt, Alfred Conolly, was written in my presence by the prisoner. (Read: "Oct. 3, 1874. Received of Mr. Hussey the sum of 2l. on account of bay mare according to agreement. Alfred E. Conolly.") On the Monday I sent my man round for the horse, and I sent a cheque for 23l., the balance of the money—the man was three or four hours gone—when he came back with the horse, it had got the shoe on—I have had the cheque back since—it was cashed on the same day—the carman tried the horse in the cart in my presence—it would not go; it would not draw an empty cart—we had to put two chain horses on to him—we took the empty cart to where we were removing some trees and put a little earth in the cart, but he would not draw it at all—we had to put two horses on to pull him out—other people were present at the time—we put him away for the night, and next morning we tried him over again and we could not even get him out of the mews with an empty cart—I told the carman to take him out of the cart and take him back to Charlotte Mews and I would come there too, and on the way I called at Irongate Wharf to see if I could find Conolly—I made certain inquiries, but I was not able find him—I then went to Charlotte Mews and found the prisoner and the same stableman there—I said "Well, Mr. Conolly, I am obliged to bring the horse back"—he said "Why?"—I said "He won't suit me, he won't draw, and is no good to me; I must trouble you to give me the money back"—he said "I can't, I have not got the money"—I said "You will have to get it"—he said "Why?"—I said "The horse does not suit me, it won't do my work and I must trouble you to hand over the money"—he said he could only give me 6l. or 7l., that was all he had in his pocket, and he would give me that—I said that would not do, he would have to find the whole 25l.—I threatened to give him into custody, and he said it was no good, no policeman would take him as it was only a debt—I sort my man for a policeman and when he came I said "I give this man, Mr. Conolly, into your custody"—he said "It is not Conolly, his name is King-well, I know him well"—the prisoner said would I give him a little time to see if he could get the money and his man went away and said he had scraped together 20l., would I take that and he would pay the 5l. at some future time—I would not take that and gave him into custody.
Cross-examined. I was not prepared to treat this as a debt at any time—I let the man go to try and get the money—I should have had nothing to complain of if he had returned the 25l.—I don't know that the horse is now being driven and goes admirably well—my carman has been in my employment some years—it was an ordinary brick cart he was put into and an ordinary brick cart collar—I don't know much about horses—I never bought a cart horse before—I think I could tell you a place where you could get a good serviceable horse for 25l.—I don't know whether I mentioned before the Magistrate or not that the constable said he knew the prisoner's name was Kingwell. (The witness Tanner was fare called into Court.) The prisoner
begged the policeman not to take him till he had time to get the money—I don't think I said "You shall have ten minutes to get the money"—I did not take my watch out—we waited some time—he asked us to wait till his man came back—I did not see Mr. Tanner on that occasion—he was not present to the best of my knowledge—if the horse suited me I was to have him on trial for a week—he said "You need not be afraid, take the horse and try it for a few days, and if it does not suit you, you shall have your money back"—it was taken back on the Tuesday morning to Charlotte Mews—there are several stables there—I did not say if the horse had not been a jibber I would have kept it—it was not strong enough to suit me whether it jibbed or not—if it had been strong enough I think I should have kept it.
Re-examined. I have not seen Mr. Barrett here this morning—I saw him yesterday morning and he was very unwell indeed, he has been lying up for a fortnight and was not able to travel to the Court—I did not go to the doctor about him—he went himself—the doctor gave him that certificate I believe.
JOSEPH SAXBY . I live at 3, Burton Mews, and am carman to the prosecutor—I went on the Monday morning to get the horse—I had been on the Sunday, but could not get it then—when I got there first the man said he was at the farrier's—I waited a little while and the prisoner came there and he took me to the farrier's where the horse was and had the shoe on—I took the cheque with me—I told him on Sunday morning I had got the cheque, and he said I was to bring it on the Monday when I fetched the horse—I took the cheque on the Monday—the farrier's was about a mile or a mile and a half from the Mews—it was not more than an hour and a half from the time I gave the prisoner the cheque till I got home with the horse—I fed the horse and put it in the cart—it would not go—I could not get it out of the mews until I got two men to the wheels—it was a jibber—I have been working horses several years—I should think I have had from thirty to fifty under my care—this horse would not work—I put it in the cart again on Tuesday morning and could not get it out of the Mews, and I took it out of harness again—it was a regular jibber—I told my master it would not work and was no use to him, and he said I had better take it back and he would meet me there—I was there when the interview took place between him and the prisoner, and when the prisoner was given into custody—my master was there when I led the horse into the stable—he pulled his watch out and said he would allow the prisoner some time to fetch the money, but I don't recollect the exact time he allowed him.
Cross-examined. I took the horse by the head and tried to lead it—I put a cart collar on it one of the ordinary collars suitable for a horse—it was a tip cart with wooden shafts and a chain across the saddle—it was a middling shaped horse—I don't know the exact height of it—I never measured it—I never looked at its mouth to know its age—I should think he was seven years old myself—there was one or two opened the horse's mouth and said it was seven years old—he was in fair condition—I did not. work him long enough to say whether he was sound or not—I brought him from Charlotte Mews to my master's—that is about 4 miles—I rode her part of the way and then she began to jump and I got off.
the prisoner and knew his name—I never knew him to drive an ice cart—I have seen him a great number of times in the summer—I have seen him about with a lot more men with horses at different times—to the best of my belief he is not an ice merchant—I have known him for the last seven years.
RICHARD MOON (Detective Sergeant). I know the prisoner—his name is Frederick Kingwell—I have known him for the last twelve months—I have seen him about daily—he has never carried on business with his father as an ice merchant to my knowledge.
FREDERICK KINGWELL . I can't say whether the prisoner has been driving an ice cart during the summer, for sometimes I have not seen him for two months together—I don't know what he has been doing for the last nine or ten months—I am a carriage builder—I have not carried on business in partnership with my son as an ice merchant—I have never been an ice merchant—I had a place at Irongate Wharf ten or twelve years ago—I never carried on business in Caledonian Road.
Cross-examined. The receipt that has been put in is not in my son's handwriting; part of the body looks like it, but the word "Conolly "at the bottom is not a bit similar to his writing—I have seen this bay mare and ridden behind it—I am a pretty good judge of horses, and 1 breed horses—I found the horse was at these mews at Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—looking at the thing as it stood, and making inquiries, I said "That horse must not stand here, because it is not my son's horse"—it belonged to Mr. Conolly—I made inquiries, and found the owner of the horse could not be found, and I said "I must bear the brunt," and I sent the horse to livery at 24s. a week with Mr. Joseph Evans, where it now stands—I have ridden behind the mare—I call her an extraordinary mare, she can do 12 or 14 miles an hour—in my judgment she is worth more than 30l.—if I kept her I should breed from her; she is good enough for that.
Re-examined. She has a first-rate action, she pulls up and goes, and her speed was with her—I am too heavy now to ride her—there is a breaksman of Mr. Evans and Mr. Snelling and other gentlemen here—I drove the horse to this Court last Sessions and again this morning—I had not seen the horse before my son was brought before the Magistrate—I went and bailed him out.
Witnesses for the Defence.
THOMAS TANNER . I live at Tottenham Court Road—I remember the occasion when Mr. Hussey came to buy this bay mare—I was sitting on the top stairs of the room that goes into the loft reading the paper and waiting for Mr. Kingwell to take a ride, which I used to do of a Saturday afternoon—two men came to look at the horse that was advertised—Mr. Kingwell said the horse that was advertised was disposed of—that was the bigger one.—in less than three or four minutes the horse was taken out of the stable into the yard, and Mr. Kingwell said "This horse may perhaps suit, you can have it on a week's trial and approval," and the price was 25l.—I understood that if the horse was not liked at the end of a week it was to be returned and the money paid back—Mr. Kingwell said "Make a deposit"—I looked down the stairs and I saw the biggest man of the two hand Mr. Kingwell some money—I would not like to say what it was—when Mr. Kingwell said he could have the horse on trial for a week the man said "That is very fair, that will do"—they never asked Mr. Kingwell his name or his trade or business—I never beard him say that his name was Conolly
or that he was in partnership with his father at Irongate Wharf as an ice merchant—I don't know that the horse was the property of an ice merchant—I know nothing at all about it—I can't say if it was Mr. Kingwell's property or whether he was selling it for anyone else—I only came occasionally on Saturday to take a ride with him—the mare was warranted quiet in harness.
Cross-examined. I was sitting on the stable stairs leading to the loft; that is at the right hand corner of the mews—it is a good long mews; I should say 50 yards long—there were perhaps four or five stables in a row—the horse was walked up and down—I have known Mr. Kingwell some time—we are friends—I don't know how he has been engaged all the summer—he has not sold a good many horses this summer to my knowledge.
JOSEPH EVANS . I am a job-master, and live in Buckingham Palace Road—I have something like sixty or seventy horses—I have the bay mare in question in ray possession—I have driven her regularly—she is perfectly quiet in harness, and goes very well indeed—she is not sound really; she is a little lame on the off fore leg—she is worth about thirty guineas for breeding purpose, let alone anything else—I drove her here this morning.
Cross-examined. A horse might be a good useful horse for breeding, but still unable to go—I have driven her since 14th October—she was sent to me on livery by Mr. Kingwell—I know Mr. Kingwell—I never knew him to sell a horse—I know the prisoner as his son—I don't know what he is in business—I should certainly not put an animal like that to draw a brick cart, it would be quite out of place.
Re-examined. Any one could see that it was not a horse to put into a brick cart; it is a mare of very nice quality.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 23rd, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. COOKE conducted the Prosecution; and Me. Straight the Defence.
WILLIAM CUMMINGS . I keep the Mitre Tavern, St. Martin's Lane—on 28th October, after midnight, the prisoner came in with a woman and asked me for two glasses of beer—he gave me a florin—I gave him 1s. 8d. change, and put the florin in the till—there was another florin there—the prisoner went outside and round into the other bar, called for two glasses of ale, and put down another florin—my wife took it up and asked me "If it was not bad?" I said "Yes;" went to the till and found the other florin bad—I jumped over the counter and caught hold of him, and he gave me the 1s. 8d. back—I then put the second florin between my teeth and bent it, but the woman got it afterwards—I marked the other florin, and so did the constable—I gave the prisoner in charge.
Cross-examined. There is a partition between the two boxes, you have to go outside to get from one to the other—my wife is not here—the bar is not very large, I could see the two boxes—I will swear that the woman
did not give the second florin—she went round with the man—she took the first florin and went out of the house—I know it was bad because I tried it between my teeth—it was soft and of a dark colour.
Re-examined. My wife has recently been confined—I was holding the prisoner when the woman went away.
He was further charged with a previous conviction of a like offence in April, 1872, when he was sentenced to two year's imprisonment to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COOKE conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. Frith the Defence.
HANNAH BAXTER . I keep a shop at 25, Kirby Street, Poplar—on 23rd October, about 8 p.m., I served a woman with an ounce of tea—she gave me a bad crown—I said "This don't look a very good one"—she said "Don't it?"—I said "No"—she said that she had got both paid at the Docks, and very likely she could catch the man before he went away—while she was there the prisoner came in for 1d. worth of cheese and gave me 1d.—the woman went out first and then the man—I went out after them—they did not walk together, but in the same direction—I could not see a policeman—I saw the woman in Mrs. Betts' shop a quarter of an hour afterwards—after she left I went in, and as I came out I saw the prisoner outside—I afterwards saw the woman in Mr. McIntosh's shop and the prisoner outside—after she came out I went in and. spoke to Mrs. McIntosh and then followed them into Catherine Street, where I pointed out the prisoner to a policeman, but the woman had then gone.
EMMA BETTS . I am the wife of James Betts, who keeps a fish shop at 117, Crisp Street, Poplar—on 23rd October a woman came in for 3d. worth of fish and gave me a 5s. piece—I thought it was bad and called my husband who looked at it, and then the woman took it and ran out—I did not see the prisoner.
SARAH MCINTOSH . I am the wife of James McIntosh, baker, of 132, Grundry Street, Poplar—on 23rd October a woman came in for a half-quartern loaf, which came to 3d—she gave me a crown and I gave her the change, and just as she was going out the prisoner came in and she passed something to him—he bought a 1/2 d. loaf—Baxter then came in and spoke to me—I gave the prisoner in custody and followed the woman—this is the crown.
Cross-examined. I stated before the Magistrate the same as I do now—I cannot account for the passing of the money from one to the other not being mentioned in my deposition.
EDWARD LEIGHTON (Policeman K 180). On 23rd October McIntosh gave the prisoner into my charge—he admitted being in the shop, but said that he knew nothing about the money—I searched him at the station and found four shillings and one florin corresponding with the coin given to the woman in change—Mr. McIntosh gave me this crown (produced).
GUILTY **— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. DR MICHELE and Cooke conducted the Prosecution.
October, about 6.30, the prisoner came in for a penny candle and gave me a shilling—I put it in the till where there was no other shilling, and she left—about 9.30 she came in again for 1 lb. of bread and some needles and put down another shilling—I told her it was bad and she gave me a sixpence which I had given her in change before—I gave the two shillings to the constable, they were both of 1868.
CHARLES ANDREWS . I am manager of the Rose and Three Tuns, Little Earl Street—on 10th June the prisoner came in and tendered a bad shilling—she was taken before a Magistrate, remanded, and discharged.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
THOMAS BANNISTER . I manage the Red Lion, St. Giles's—on 29th October the prisoner was served with a pint of beer—he gave me a shilling—I put it in my mouth, told him it was bad, and gave him in custody with the shilling—on 24th October a shilling had been tendered, but not in my presence; it was found to be bad—we took care of it, but I cannot identify it, as I gave five bad shillings to the constable—they had been tendered between the 23rd and the 29th.
EMILY BANNISTER . I am the wife of the last witness—on 24th October the prisoner was the last customer in the bar at 12 o'clock—I had emptied the till, and there was no money there—he put a shilling down—I went to the further till to get the change—I afterwards remembered that it was him—I took the coin out of the till a few minutes after he left and found it was bad—I gave it to my husband, who gave it to the constable, with. others—the prisoner had been there with a woman on the Wednesday before, and had two half-quarterns of rum; he paid with two separate shillings, but I did not notice that they were bad—I am confident that they were shillings.
FRANK BIRKETT . I am landlord of the King's Head, Queen Street, Holborn—on 8th September the prisoner was served, and tendered a florin to the barmaid, who gave it to me, and I found it was bad, and gave it to the policeman—the prisoner said that his master, Mr. Bull, of Long Acre, paid it to him in his wages.
Prisoner's Defence. This is the first time I have been in prison. I have have had to leave my place because I have fits. I was at Mr. Waterlow's three years, and at Mr. Abbot's two or three years, but have not given my right name, as I did not want my friends to know. My name is Humphreys. We are all liable to take bad money. I did not look at it or put it in my mouth.
GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. SIMS conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY — Judgment Respited.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, November 24th, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
11. JOHN SUTTON (40), WILLIAM LUCY (37), and THOMAS FEASEY (23), were indicted (with JONES and WHITE, not in custody) for stealing a ton of coals of Joseph Compton Rickett and another, the masters of Sutton, and DAVID HOWE (40) , for feloniously receiving the same.
SUTTON and FEASEY PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; Me. Weatherfield defended
LUCY, and MR. STRAIGHT defended Howe.
JOHN HAWKES (City Policeman 92). On the evening of 21st October, from information I received I went to Gravel Lane—I there saw a van standing before the prisoner Howe's shop, No. 117; he is a retail coal dealer—Sutton and Feasey were there, and Howe was inside his shop—the name of "Rickett, Smith & Co." was on both sides of the van and in front, in large letters, and the prices of the coal, 28s., 31s., and 34s.—when I passed again Feasey was in the act of shooting some sacks of coals into a compartment in Howe's shop—at that time I saw two or three sacks in the van—Sutton was standing at the tail of the van shifting them—I went back into Houndsditch, which was about fifty yards, to get the assistance of a man in uniform—I then returned to the shop—Sutton was then in the act of lifting the sacks from the ground into the van—after speaking to him I asked Howe whether he had got any invoice—he said "No, I never ordered the coals; the man asked me to buy them. I was going to give him 25s. for them; I can buy the same coals for 23s. 6d.—I said "It is very singular that you should buy of a man in the street for 25s. when you can get them for 23s. 6d. in the usual way"—I then left Howe and Sutton in the custody of two officers while I went to Fenchurch Street—I asked Sutton in Howe's presence for his delivery book—he gave it me, and I produce it—I pointed out an entry to him of the name of Scott, 17, Fenchurch Street, and asked him what it referred to—he said that he had two tons of coal to deliver there—I went there and saw the housekeeper, and saw four vans outside the door, and from what I stated the housekeeper had the sacks counted in my presence—there were eighty sacks—I then went with the housekeeper into Mr. Scott's office—Jones, White, Feasey, and Lucy presented their delivery books for signature—the housekeeper declined to sign them—they each said that they had delivered their coals—I asked them where the other man was—I did not know Sutton's name at that time—they said they did not know—I after wards took Feasey into custody—at the station that night, when the charge was taken, Howe remarked that he was going to give 25s. for the coals—Sutton replied "Don't talk like that; we offered them to you for ll., and you were only going to give us 15s., and you were afterwards going to make it 16s.
Cross-examined by MR. WEATHERFIELD. Lucy was not in Mr. Scott's
office when I first went there—he was in the street—I can't say that I saw him come up from the cellar—I did not hear him say that he was in the cellar at the time—he was not in Howe's shop at all.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Gravel Lane is a well frequented thoroughfare—Mr. Defries' factory is immediately opposite Howe's shop and there are two smaller working jeweller's shops on the same side as Howe's—it is an open shop with two gas branches, one in each window, one in the shop and a street lamp over the door; plenty of light to see what was going on—I have known Howe for some years—I don't know how long he has had this shop.
JOHN SUTTON (the Prisoner.) I was in the service of Messrs. Rickett, Smith, and Co.—I and four others went to Mr. Scott's, in Fenchurch Street, to deliver 10 tons of coals—there were 5 vans with 2 tons in each—I can't say for certain whether White's, or Jones' van delivered first—Lucy's was the third van—I ton was delivered out of his van—Feasy and I took the other ton to Howe's shop—we did not take it without Lucy's permission—we were all together—he was agreeable to have it taken away as well as the others, because he stood at the tail of the van pulling back the coals for the others to take them in—the other men who are not here knew of their being taken away, one of them was the first that proposed it—Feasey and I went trying to sell the coals at different places till we came to Howe's shop—I called Howe out and asked him if he wanted to buy a ton of coals—he said "Yes"—he asked to see them before he bought them—the van stood over in a turning leading to Duke's Place, and he came and jumped on the front wheel of the van and looked at the coals—he asked me how much I wanted for them—I asked him ll.—he said he would give us 15s.—I declined taking 15s. and asked him if he could not make it 16s., and he said he would and we were to bring them over to his shop—Feasey was present—he asked me if it was all right—I said "Yes"—I had brought them from Fenchurch Street, at least me and Feasey had—I called to Feasey, who was with "the horse, and he brought the van over and we began to shoot the coals—the name of Rickett and Smith was on the van and the prices of the coals, 28s., 31s. and 34s.—we were then taken into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. WEATHERFIELD. Lucy was in Mr. Harris's employment, who supplies the horses for the vans—he was at the tail of the van when we went away with it—he had not been in the cellar, it was a straight shoot and did not want anyone in the cellar, it was a big cellar, it would hold 40 tons—mine was the last van.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I was never asked by the prosecutors to make this statement—I have been in their employment about seven years on and off—I said yesterday when called on to plead that we were all guilty—I had never sold coals before in this way, and I don't know that we. should have done it then only we had been having a drop to drink, it was partly through that—we have plenty of places where there is not room to put the coals in, and we have to put them in the yard or somewhere else—I have not occasionally found customers who could not take in all we brought, if we could not put them in one place we found another—I saw a young lad in Howe's shop—I did not tell Howe that I had been to deliver the coals at a house but they had only got room for one ton—I did not show him my delivery book, nor did Feasey; he did not have it, it was only me had it—there ought to have been 100 sacks delivered at. Mr. Scott's—we delivered ten at Howe's—he did not ask me to give him a receipt—I did
not say I had no bill, not till the policeman asked me—Howe did not pay me anything—he did not say "I will not pay you without a bill." nor did I say "I will bring you one in the morning"—Howe never asked me such a thing till the policeman came; he did then ask me if I had a bill, because he saw the policeman come, and I said "Have I not given you a bill?"—he said "No, I have not"—I said "Then I must have lost the bill"—Feasey was shooting one sack in the shop when the officer came.
Re-examined. When the constable went to Fenchurch Street Howe told me to tell them when I was taken to the station that he had given 25s. a ton for the coals and told me to stick to that and say nothing else and he would see me righted when I came out. '
THOMAS FEASEY (the prisoner). I was in the service of Mr. Harris, who contracts for the horses for Rickett and Co.—I recollect taking these coals to Howe—Lucy knew of our taking them, he was at the tail of the van at the time along with the other two men not in custody—we did not go right up to Howe's shop, we went to a turning; Howe came to us—Sutton went and fetched him—he came and looked at the coals, he got up on the wheel and offered 15s. for them—we asked him ll.—he then said he would make it another shilling; the van was then taken to Howe's shop and the coals were delivered—while they were being delivered the police interfered—I heard nothing said to Howe as to how we came to be disposing of the coals.
DAVID ARCHIBALD . I am housekeeper at Mr. Scott's, 17, Fenchurch Street—I recollect the coals being delivered—the sacks were afterwards counted and only eighty found—next day the coals were weighed and only 9 tons found—on the night of the 21st all the men produced their delivery books but Sutton—I refused to sign them—they said their coals were all right—the counting took place after the policemen came, I had not counted them before.
STEPHEN ANDREWS . I am horsekeeper in the prosecutor's service—I weighed the coals at Feuchurch Street, they weighed nine tons—I afterwards weighed some coals at Howe's, they weighed one ton; they were the same description of coals as those at Fenchurch Street—Lucy returned to King's Cross on the night of the 21st with Sutton's van—I asked him about Sutton—he said he did not know—I said "You must know where he is"—he said he did not unless he had gone and got too much to drink and was not capable of driving his van home—I asked him where his van was—he said his mates had taken it home.
Witnesses for Howe.
JOHN HOWE . I am the prisoner's son, I am eighteen years of age—I was born in the house in Gravel Lane where my father has been carrying on business—on the evening in question Sutton came to the shop and asked if the governor was in—I said "Yes"—I called my father from downstairs, and when he came up Sutton said "Governor I have a ton of good coals to sell, I have been to a place with two tons, they have only taken one ton because they had not sufficient room for the other, if I take them back there will be double carriage to pay"—father asked him where they were from—he said Rickett and Smith's, King's Cross—father asked the price—he pulled a book out of his pocket and said "25s. to dealers"—father asked where they were—he said up the top of the street and father went to see—they returned in a few minutes, and father told the coalman to shoot them—there was another man with the cart, I don't know his name—the coals were shot in father's place—father said "Mate, have you got a bill?"—he
said "No governor"—father said "I will not pay you without a bill"—he said "I will bring you a bill to-morrow morning"—I am sure he said that before the policeman same—he brought a few more coals in after that, and I saw him counting the sacks.
Cross-examined. I was at the Police Court when my father was committed for trial—I don't remember the Magistrate asking him whether he had any witnesses to. call—I was not examined—I was in the shop when the prisoners came there.
EDWARD DRISCOLL . I am sixteen years old next March—I was employed by Mr. Howe to carry out coals—I was in the shop with John when a man came and asked for Mr. Howe—the son called his father up from downs tairs—he came up—the man said to him "Governor I have a ton of good coals to sell, I have been to a place with two tons, they have only taken one ton in because they have not sufficient room for the other, if we take them back there will double carriage"—master asked where did he fetch them from—he said from Rickett and Smith's—master asked him what was the price of them—the coalman pulled a book out of his pocket, saying "25s. to dealers"—master asked him where they were; he said at the top of the street—master went to look at them, and when they both came back with the coals master told him to shoot them—when he had part of them shot master asked him for a bill—he said he had none, he had lost the bill—master told him to go back to the office and fetch a bill—he said the office closed at 5 o'clock, he would fetch one tomorrow—master said if he did not fetch a bill he would go himself and pay the money—the coal man said "Don't do that, I will fetch a bill in the morning"—he then went outside and he was counting some of the sacks while the other was taking the coals in.
Cross-examined. I did not think there was anything wrong in the transaction—I was sitting down in the shop—I was attending very carefully to what was being said—I did not hear young Howe give his evidence—I was in Court—I know that I have told word for word what he told—we have not talked over together what we could prove—I was not called at tile Police Court—master has been out on bail since last Session—he did not speak to me at all about what I had to say—I told Mr. Pratt (the solicitor's clerk) what I could say and he took it down—I had not told my master before that what I could say—since I spoke to Mr. Pratt I have spoken to young Howe about what I was going to say to-day; I came here with him to-day—we did not talk about what we were going to say—I did not write it down—my master left the shop for about five minutes and then came back with Sutton and the cart.
Re-examined. I have told the truth—I heard what I have stated pass about the coal—master was taken into custody on Wednesday and was before the Magistrate on the Thursday—I was there—he was in custody from the Thursday to the Monday, when he was before the Magistrate again—during that time I had not seen him—I made my statement to Mr. Pratt on the Thursday I think at Basinghall Street, at Mr. Buchanan's office—that was before I went to the Police Court—I had not seen my. master between the time of his being taken into custody and my going to Mr. Buchanan's office. (The witness was desired by the Court to repeat his evidence, which he did in precisely the same terms.)
I was downstairs with him—I followed him up into the shop in about two minutes—I found the coal man there—he said "Governor, I have got a ton of good coals I will sell you"—Howe said "Where are they?"—he said "At the top of the street," and he went and looked at them—before he went he asked how much—he said "25s., " pulling out a book—when they came back he told him to shoot them—when they were most all shot he asked him for a bill, so that he could go up stairs and get him the money—he said he had none, for he had lost it—Howe said if ha had not got one he should take the money to the office—he said "Don't do that, I will bring you one to-morrow morning."
Cross-examined. It was a book like the one produced that the man pulled out—I did not see what was inside it—I did not see whether Howe looked at it or not—I was not at the Police Court—I had other business to attend to—the coals were not all shot when he asked about the bill; there were two or three sacks to be shot.
EDWARD PRATT . I am clerk to Mr. Buchanan, of Basinghall Street, and have charge of the criminal cases—I was acting on his behalf in this charge against Mr. Howe—he was arrested on Wednesday night, the 21st—he was brought up in custody on 22nd and remanded till 26th—on the morning of the 22nd I had Mr. Howe's statement, and I had each of the lads separately in the room—I was present at the Court on the 22nd; Mr. Buchanan at tended—I was prepared with the witnesses on the 26th—the prisoner's statement was taken down by Mr. Buchanan—he is an old client of his—I took the evidence of the two boys on the Thursday morning after—I took the prisoner's statement, but not in writing, I did not think it necessary, it was so exactly similar to what the prisoner told me—Mr. Buchanan after wards took it down in writing to instruct counsel—that was done between the Thursday and the Monday.
Several witnesses deposed to Howe's good character.
HOWE and LUCY— NOT GUILTY .
SUTTON— Six Months' Imprisonment.
FEASEY— Three Month's Imprisonment.
He was also charged with having been before convicted; to this he
PLEADED NOT GUILTY, but upon
Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. Montagu Williams the
JOHN MORGAN . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Moore and Prior, wholesale tea and coffee merchants, of Lime Street, City—many years ago the prisoner was in the employ of the prosecutors; he left, and went else where, and about 1st February, 1873, he returned to the employ, and was made warehouseman, at a salary of 100l. a year—he was afterwards moved into the office—he conducted himself with great propriety—a vacancy occurred in the traveller's department, and he was appointed to that vacancy about the middle of April—his first journey was made about 23rd April; he commenced that duty at a salary of 100l. a year, and seven guineas a week for expenses; he was afterwards advanced to 150l., I think, at the end of
the year—I had to make arrangements with the travellers—the arrangement I made with the prisoner was that he should return a full account of all monies be received daily, names, and amounts, at night by post, with any orders that he might take—he was to remit every night as nearly as pos sible—he was, from time to time, supplied from the office in London with the names of customers from whom accounts were owing—among other customers were Mr. Heath and Mr. Argyle, of Great Yarmouth, and Mr. Hickman—prior to Saturday, 26th September, a letter was sent to him—he came up on 26th September—I asked him if he was prepared with a statement of his accounts—he said "I shall be directly"—I left him and went into the office; he followed me in and asked me how much I made his salary due to him—I told him I made it 10l. 13s. 8d.—he went into the sale room to check the amount—it was the practice to pay him his salary monthly, and it had been regularly paid—his travelling expenses were paid weekly every Saturday, remitted by cheque; he said to me "You had better give me my cheque for the 10l. 13s. 8d. "—I said "No, I can't give you your cheque, give me your account first"—he said "I' am not prepared to pay you the full balance unless you hand me over my cheque"—I think he had shown me an account of monies received by him at that time; it is attached to the deposition; this is it—it is headed "W. F. Seobie, 19th September, 1874," and the total brought out is 25l. 3s. 1d.—he said he had 14l. 10s. 2d., and that would balance it with the wages, which it would—I then said "I have an I O U here for 2l. 12s. lent you by Mr. Prior; you had better pay that; are you prepared to pay it?"—he said "No, I can't do it"—I said "Under the circumstances, you had better have some conversation with the firm, both members of the firm being on the premises at the time"—he saw them, and I saw no more of him that day—on Monday, the 28th, he attended at the premises again—he said "Well, I think, upon consideration, I had better pay that I O U of Mr. Prior's; are you prepared to receive it in full settlement; if I pay that can you give me my discharge"—I said "No, I can't, because you have not paid me the full amount, deducting is not paying"—he' paid the 2l. 12s.—I said it must be left to the firm," and it was left, the partners were then away—on the Friday following I went down to Slough and gave him into custody—he has never accounted to me for 1l. 2s. 1d. or 1l. 19s. 1d., received from Mr. Heath and Mr. Argyle on 22nd August, or 3l. 1s. from Mr. Hickman—Mr. Hickman's name, with the amount, was forwarded to him on 12th September for collection—the prisoner has written against it "not due."
Cross-examined. I found him at home at Slough—I did not know at that time that he was in the employ of Messrs. Wyatt & Edwards, of 66, Mark Lane—I know it now—they are in the same line of business as the prosecutor—there was a disputed claim between me and the prisoner upon what are called fictitious orders—they are orders returned by the traveller, not given to him by a customer—if there had been profits they would be divided between the firm and the traveller, if he was a commission traveller—the prisoner made a claim for it—I wanted to charge him 6d. a pound on some of those fictitious orders—he had a verbal agreement with the firm—I did not make it with him, and was not present when it was made—I told him I thought he had better pay the claim on the fictitious orders before I paid him his salary—he said he would not do anything of the kind, because he considered the money was due to him—I have said when I was examined before that I felt that the claim was a little doubtful—I
have known him about thirteen or fourteen years, or perhaps more—I have written to him—I did not call upon him for an explanation of these accounts from the Monday till I gave him into custody—I had not had any quarrel with him—this letter (produced) is my writing—I do not consider that my master was getting childish, or that I am sometimes inclined to use the cane to him, or that I would have done so long ago but for the consolation of knowing that he could not last long, and that he was a regular old humbug—I am not aware that I have expressed myself in that way—about 10,000l. has passed through the prisoner's hands in the fifteen months—I don't think he collected on an average from thirteen towns in a week—I would not say he did not—the whole of his defalcations amount to about 1l.
Re-examined. This list represents the various towns he collected from, and the amounts of each—he sent up remittances from time to time—I had no idea he was in Wyatt & Edwards' employ at the time 1 gave him into custody—I know now that he was not actually in their employ, but waiting subject to references being given—the fictitious orders were sent up by the prisoner from the country—as far as I could judge at that time, they were orders that had been given by persons—in some cases goods were supplied on the faith of those orders—the goods were returned to us in all the instances, after an interval of over a week—we claimed from the prisoner for the loss of profit—the prisoner did not claim anything from us for those orders—he disputed the firm being entitled to anything from him—I did not make any claim from him on the 29th for that—I asked him for it; it was not in the account at all—I considered the account a little doubtful, and I did not press it.
By THE COURET. I did not expect that the law would allow us to claim from the traveller the amount of profit that we should get if the goods were delivered to the customers—there were two or three instances where goods were returned, and we were at the expense of carriage both ways—I could not say whether in any case the goods were retained, although the order had not been given—there was no claim for part profit on such orders—the firm would not divide profits with the traveller in such cases—I have not said so; if I did it was a mistake—I could not have under stood the question—the prisoner was not a commission traveller—a commission traveller would have a profit in such cases—Argyle name does not appear in this list; that was an omission.
JOSEPH HEATH . I am a grocer at Great Yarmouth—I have dealt with the prosecutor's firm for some time—I have known the prisoner as their traveller since May—on 22nd August I was indebted to the firm 1l. 2s. 1d.—it was for duty—I paid that to the prisoner—this is the receipt he gave me—that left a balance due to the firm of 6l. 8s. 1d., which still remains due.
Cross-examined. I don't recollect his saying that he could not make his balance right at Yarmouth, and he did not know whether I had paid him or not—I remember his writing to me about a sum of 3l. 1s. 10d., and asking me to tell him what it was that I had paid him last—that was when he was out on a journey between July 1st and August 9th—he said he had a cash balance at Yarmouth, and he could not understand it—he was in the habit of coming to me for orders about once in six weeks—generally the goods came after the invoice; if I accepted the invoice the goods were supplied.
JOHN WILLIAM ARGYLE . I am a grocer at Great Yarmouth—on three occasions I have dealt with Messrs. Moore & Pryor—on 26th August I owed them 1l. 19s. 1d.—I paid that to the prisoner—this is the receipt he gave me—that was all that was due by me to the firm at that time.
Cross-examined. I fancy it was late in the afternoon when he called.
There was another indictment against the Prisoner for embezzling the sum of 51., upon which no evidence was offered.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 24th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
14. ALBERT EDWARD WHISSTOCK (23), PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling the sums of 12l. 15s. and 20l. Os. 6d. of the Leather Cloth Company, Limited— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment and to pay the costs of the prosecution.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the
WILLIAM GABRIEL . I am a watchmaker and jeweller, of 24, Bishops gate Street, which is at the corner of a passage—it is a very small shop—there is what is called a counter case—the legs are on castors, for the Purpose of putting it near the safe, to put things away at night and the reverse in the morning—it would be against the wall when the shop was being arranged—on 23rd September, in the afternoon, two men and a woman came in—I believe the prisoner to be one of the men, but his moustache has been shaved off since—they purchased a pair of earrings for 3l. 10s.—they were about five minutes in the shop—on the 24th I heard that a gold watch and six rings had been taken from the stock when I was not there—on 3rd October I picked the prisoner out at Bishopsgate Station from eighteen others from his general appearance.
Cross-examined. My porter was present when the earrings were bought—it was about 1.30 and broad day light—nothing was stolen then—after the theft I described the woman as well dressed and the men as one shorter than the. other—they were perfect strangers to me—I have taken the things from the window and put them in the safe a number of times, it takes about forty minutes—it is the practice to put them on the counter before putting them in the window in the morning—they are not taken direct from the safe to the window, the majority of them are put on the counter first—I saw the gold watch on the 23rd when my assistant was clearing the stock from the window in the evening at 7.30 or 7.40—I did not see the whole of the things put into the safe—the rings had not then been removed—my assistant, Mr. Forbes, told me on 3rd October that he had identified the man who was there on the 22nd, but that he should not like to swear to him unless I went down and if I identified the same man as he had he should have no hesitation to swear to him—he did not add that if 1 had
any difficulty in identifying the man he would not swear to him—I know he is here; I don't care about that—he had some hesitation in swearing to him—I looked at the man at the station five or six times—several policemen were in the same room—it was a very large room at the back of the station—it was about 10 a.m., on 3rd October, and about eighteen men were ranged in a line and I walked line in line five or six times—I asked Mr. Fowles to describe the man to me, and when I identified the prisoner I said "I fancy this is the man"—my porter did not say to me "I don't think he is the man"—he was not at Guildhall when I gave my evi dence, but he was afterwards—the police did not call him as a witness, but that is easily explained—the prisoner's wife afterwards came to my shop and said that she was quite sure her husband was not the man; she went on to say the distracted state she was in and that she kept her husband by the aid of a sewing machine—I don't think she said "The detectives say I am the woman who was in the shop on the 22nd, am I the woman?"—I feel sure she did not—the police afterwards took me to see her in St. Swithin's Lane and I then said that she was not the woman—she was walking about quite free—they had only said that the had got a woman, they did not say that it was the prisoner's wife—I said "That woman has been to my house, she is the wife of the prisoner—I did not give any description of the two men and the woman who had been in the shop on the 22nd till after the 24th—I did not say that I had some doubts about the man—I never said anything different from what I said at first.
Re-examined. I believe the prisoner is the man—the porter was not, called at the Police Court, because he was found to waver very much, he could not be depended upon—he is naturally very nervous.
JOHN FOWLES . I am an assistant to the prosecutor—on 24th September at 9.30, I 1as removing the goods into the window, the counter being very nearly close to the safe—a gold watch and six rings were in the safe among other things—two men came into the shop and I identify the prisoner as one of them—they both spoke and said that they had been there with a lady two days before and bought some earrings—they said "You are not the gentleman I have seen before"—I asked them to describe the earrings—they did so and asked for some exactly like them as the lady had made a present of them—I went to the window to get some earrings, and while I was reaching them my back was to the safe—they would have no occasion to lean over the counter—I showed them a pair of earrings something like them—they said that they were not exactly the same—I offered to send to another shop for some like those which they originally had, and asked them to call again—they said they would call in half an hour—one of them said "We cannot call in half an hour, make it 11 o'clock"—I said "That will suit me better," and they left—in three minutes after that I missed a gold watch out of the safe and after that some rings—they never came back—on 3rd October I identified the prisoner at Bishopsgate Station from about fifteen other men—he is one of the men who was in the shop—I first saw him sitting down and said that he looked very much like the man, but his moustache was shaved off, which altered him very much, and then I asked him to speak to me—I was rather agitated over it, but when I saw him at the Police Court the second time I was quite clear about it.
Cross-examined. I was not too agitated to describe the man I saw on the 24th, as a man with slight black whiskers, and a heavy black moustache, like my own—the two men were in the shop five or six minutes on
the 24th—I went there at 8.30—the porter was employed in taking down the shutters till 8.50—he was not in the shop when the two men were there, but the glass was close enough to look through—a reward of 100l. was offered for the conviction of the thief—I had put up the things the night before; my master was not there then—I did not commence to clear the window until he had gone; I am quite sure about that—I saw the watch that night when I put it into the safe—I did not show it to any one, not even to the porter—in the morning, I took the tray from the safe, and put it on a corner of the counter—the gold watch did not go into the window, it goes into the counter-case—it takes me three quarters of an hour to take out the things when I am dressing the window; I only take them out as I want them—the porter is outside, he does not hand them tome—Tremem ber seeing the gold watch that morning—about two dozen watches go into the safe—I have no written list to check them by—more than 100 rings go into the safe—the 3rd October was the first time the police came for me to go and see some one (that was after the 100l. was offered—that was not for the conviction of the man, but for the recovery of the property—if the property is not recovered, of course we shall not pay the reward)—I went to a large room at Bishopsgate police-station, and saw about fifteen men—I walked round them two or three times—I will not swear it was not four times—the inspector said, "Look round, and see; look round, and make sure"—I did not then walk round a fifth time—I said "I am afraid I do not see any one I know"—all the men were sitting down—it was after that that I said that I thought this was the man—the inspector said "Are you prepared to swear to him"—I said "No, I am not; I should like Mr. Gabriel, or the porter, to see him before I do that"
Re-examined. When I said "I am afraid I do not see any one," the men were all sitting down—when I saw the prisoner, I told them to stand up—I said that the prisoner looked very much like the man, but he was very much altered—I afterwards recognised his voice as the voice of the man that was in my shop—I also recognised him by his height, and his" general appearance—I was anxious not to identify the wrong man—I still think he is the man—this was a gold chronometer, worth about 60l.; not an ordinary watch—I have no other like it—it was hardly finished—it was not prepared for stock, and that is why it was separate from the others.
ROBERT TURNER . I keep the Blue Coat Boy at Islington—on Saturday, 26th September, about 11 o'clock, I saw three men and a woman in front of the bar, the prisoner was one of them—I saw one of the party showing a diamond ring and a pair of earrings to another party—I don't think the prisoner took any part in the matter, but I recognize him as one of them—he was in the place five or six minutes—I did not hear any of the conversation—I next saw him at Guildhall in the dock.
Cross-examined. I very likely said that I had an impression he was one of the men, but I could not swear to him, and I 'asked that he might be allowed to put his hat on—at the time I saw him he had a black moustache, and therefore I did not recognize him at first—he had his moustache of when in the dock—I cannot say on—what day he was in my house—I will not swear to the date—I do not know that one of the persons who was in the bar with the diamond ring was Inspector Druscovitch's brother; I did not see their faces—I do not recognize that woman (Alice 'Bird)—I will not swear that she was not one of the persons.
Re-examined. I cannot say the date, but it was at the end of the week—
I do not know the date of my going to the Police Court, it must have been the end of September, because I have been laid up five weeks—when the Alderman allowed the prisoner's hat to be put on, I said "That is the man"—Hancock called on me about an hour after I saw these men at my bar.
EDWARD HANCOCK (City Detective). On the 24th September I received information, and on Saturday, the 26th, I called on Mr. Turner and had a conversation with him—on 3rd October I saw the prisoner at Clerkenwell police-station and told him I should take him for being concerned in stealing a gold watch and gem rings from Mr. Gabriel's shop on the 24th—he said "I know nothing about it"—I put him in a cab and took him to the station—he said "You will give me a good chance Mr. Hancock"—I said "Yes"—when Fowles first came to identify him thirteen men were put with him and on the second occasion we had a fresh lot of men altogether as the prisoner wished me to get other men and have them with tall hats on—I got ten or twelve fresh persons and the majority had tall hats on.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was wearing a tall hat—I know Inspector Druscovitch's brother, he deals in jewellery—I also know Godfrey, a dealer, in jewellery, and have seen him and Druscovitch together and Alice Bird with them—I sent officers to the address the prisoner gave and the missing property was not found.
Re-examined. The address was 51, Pollards Row, Hackney Road.
19. ROBERT THORNLEY was again indicted for feloniously uttering a forged Bill of Exchange with intent to defraud; also for unlawfully obtaining 2,000l. by false pretences with intent to defraud; upon both of which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LYON conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN LEVICK DERRY . I am a warehouseman of 43, Westmoreland Place—on 14th November, about 10.20, I was in Eagle Street, and just as I got opposite an oil shop I slipped over something and fell into the shop—I had hardly recovered myself when the prisoner gave me a push with one hand and drew out nay watch with the other—a friend who was behind me seized him by the back of the neck and said "John, your watch"—I said "Yes, I know, I felt him draw it"—I seized the prisoner by the throat and forced him into the shop away from his confederates—he pretended to be in a fit, but I said that I should not loose him till a constable came—I then gave him in charge—the mob was very violent on the way to the station, and if it had not been for my friends I should have lost him—after he was searched he said "Now you can't find it and you don't know where it is"—my friends were Mr. Mackie and Mr. Scohen.
GEORGE JOHN SCOHEN . I am in the carpet trade, and live at 39, Mare Street, Hackney—I was with Derry in Eagle Street, and saw him slip and fall into the doorway of an oil shop; and, in falling, his watch fell from his waistcoat pocket—his coat was open—a crowd assembled round the door, and I saw the prisoner close up to him, and take the watch, as it hung by
the chain—I caught the prisoner by the neck, and said "John, your watch"—he said "I know it has gone"—I saw the prisoner given in custody—we were very much knocked about by the crowd.
HORACE MACKIE . I am a book finisher, of 55, Buckland Street, New North Road—on 14th November, I was in uniform, with Derry, in Eagle Street—I saw him slip, and as he recovered himself, the prisoner pushed him in the chest, and passed something over my shoulder—I seized his arm, and he wrenched it away, and the man who had the watch kicked me on the legs—I got hold of the prisoner, and when we got outside, I being in uniform, the policeman called upon me in the Queen's name to assist him—I did so, and my forage cap was knocked off—I assisted the police all the way to the station.
PHILIP PRICKETT (Policeman N 359). On 14th November, I took the prisoner in charge—there was a crowd of 100 people—on the road to the station, he said "You have not got the watch, and you won't have it"—when I searched him at the station, he said again "You have not got the watch, and you won't have it"
PLEADED GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LYON conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. Matthews, the Defence.
EZEKIEL HART . I am a porter, of 10, Upper Key Street, Spitalfields—on 19th October, about 5s., I was just going in at my door, and as man named Furze came up, and said "Zeekey, have you got a pair of sparring gloves?"—the prisoner, whom I had never seen before, came up afterwards and said "Your name is Zeekey Hart?"—I said "Yes"—he said "I have been looking for you; you take this in remembrance of me, for striking my brother"—(I did not know his brother)—he pulled out a knife from his right trousers pocket, I think, and struck me with it just over the eye, by the side of my temple—I fell into Furze's arms, and said "I am stabbed"—the blood poured down, and the flesh hung down right over my eye—I got up, and as I went to the station fell down again, and they had to put me in a cab, but I was thrown down before that by one of his pals.
Cross-examined. I am not a prize-fighter by profession; I get my living as a porter. Furze is also a prize-fighter—it was rather dark—I cannot swear that I saw the prisoner pull a knife out of his pocket, but I could feel it—my wife was standing at her door, which was next door—I do not know the prisoner or his brother—I have been convicted about twice, and had penal servitude once. '
CATHERINE HART . I live with the prosecutor—on the evening of 19th October I was standing with' him and Furze; the prisoner came up and said something, drew something' from his pocket, and said "Take that in remembrance of me for what you did to my brother," and struck the. prosecutor over the eye—he said "I am stabbed; fetch the police"—I saw blood flowing from the wound—I made a step from the door, and then the prisoner made an attempt to stab me; he raised his hand, and I saw a knife in it—Furze seized him, and said "You cowardly something, don't use a knife to a woman," and took the knife from him; but one of the prisoner's companions got it away from Furze—I have known the prisoner
many years; I never saw him with Hart—Hart did not say a word to the prisoner before he was stabbed.
Cross-examined. I went to the station, and saw blood on the prosecutor's cheek—I do not know whether it was flowing from a wound—I am certain that no blow was struck by my husband—I cannot account for that appear—on the prisoner's cheek, but there it was—this was done just inside the doorway, and I was standing at the next doorway—I was at the prisoner's side when he did it—it was not to say dark, it was between the lights—I do not know that it was dark at 6 o'clock on 19th October.
Re-examined. I was about a foot-and-a-half off when I saw the prisoner strike Hart.
WILLIAM FURZE . I am a costermonger, of 5, Slater's Court, Royal Mint Street—on 19th October I went to Hart's to borrow a pair of gloves—I met him and spoke to him, and the prisoner came up and said "You Zeekey Hart, take this in remembrance of me for meddling with my brother," and struck him over the eye—he fell into my arms, saying "You have stabbed me"—his wife ran up to the prisoner; and he up with his hand and said "1 will stab you," or "strike you," I don't know which—I caught hold of his hand and wrested a bread-knife from it, and immediately I did so it was taken from me—I ran to find his brother Ben, and when I came back the mob had dispersed—before the prisoner struck Hart, Hart had not said anything to him or struck him.
Cross-examined. The man who ran away with the knife made a party of five—if Hart has sworn that Olave caught him in his arms, it is not true; I caught him in my arms—I am a prize-fighter and costermonger.
MRS. HART (re-examined). I first saw Olave when the policeman took the prisoner—he had taken him 20 yards before Olave came up.
SAMUEL RUFORD . On 11th October I was house surgeon at the London Hospital—Hart was brought there with an angular incised wound near the left eyebrow, about a quarter of an inch on each side; the flap hung backwards and it was bleeding rather freely, as a small artery had been cut; a bread-knife might have inflicted it, it could not have been caused by a fall—it was not serious, but if it had penetrated the eye into the brain it would have killed him.
MR. MATTHEWS to W. Furze. Q. Have you suffered imprisonment more than once? A. Yes—I have been in penal servitude—I was charged with attempting to rescue the prisoner, and was remanded—I am now called for the prosecution—it was when I was charged that I gave my account of this transaction.
By THE COURET. I was taken on the charge of attempting to rescue the prisoner two hours afterwards—I was remanded for a week and discharged—I was then examined as a witness for the prosecution.
Cross-examined. He was searched at the station, and this fork (produced) was found on him, but no knife—there was no blood on his cheek when I took him—I was thrown on the ground, but I kept hold of him, and after that I saw blood on his cheek—I could see his face before that, there was quite enough light for that.
GUILTY** of unlawfully wounding— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, November 24th, 1874.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS FLYNN . On Monday and Tuesday, the 9th and 10th. of November, I was lodging at 19, Church Lane—the prisoner had been lodging in that house about five weeks—about 10 o'clock, on the morning of the 10th, I was standing by the fire in the kitchen lighting my pipe; the prisoner came up and made two plunges with a knife at my left shoulder—I turned round sharply and threw my arm up as I saw his hand over me, and I received the blow on my arm—I did not see the knife till after I had received the blow, and then I saw it in his hand—he did not say anything—I shouted out that I was stabbed; the blood came—Lee and another man they call "Tyke," came up, and Lee took the knife from him—I went to the police-station—I had spoken to the prisoner on the morning of the 9th when I was having my breakfast—he had the same knife in his hands twisting it about, and he said he would bury it in the heart of a constable who had locked him up three times, and I said "Get up, you d——d old rat, and let me have my breakfast"—this is the knife (Produced).
JOHN LEE . I was in the kitchen of this lodging house on the 10th November—I went to get a light for my pipe about 1.15 a.m.—I saw the prisoner sitting down on the floor when I went in, and he was picked up and placed on a form by two men—Flynn was up again the fireplace—the prisoner ran up to him and made an attempt to strike at him; he put his left arm up the second time and said "I am stabbed; he has got a knife"—I turned the prisoner down on the floor and picked up the knife from under the form—the first time he attempted to strike Flynn on the shoulder, and then he struck him on the arm—he did not say a word—I was not two minutes in the place.
SAMUEL LLOYD . I am a surgeon, at 4, High Street, Bloomsbury—on Tuesday morning, 10th November, between 1 and 2 o'clock, I went to the police-station in George Street, St. Giles's, and found Flynn there—he had lost a great deal of blood; his coat was cut on the shoulder, but there was no wound on his flesh there—on the left fore arm there was a deep punctured wound, with an enormous quantity of blood infused into the cellular tissue of the arm; the nerve, I judge, to have been divided, because the fingers were and are now paralyzed, and I think will remain so permanently—I judge that an artery was cut by the effusion of blood into the fore arm and the extensor muscle of the fore arm—this knife is the sort of instrument by which it could be done—there was a stain of blood on it
when I first saw it—he could never recover the use of that part supplied by the nerve that was cut.
CHARLES HUBBARD (Police Sergeant E 5). Between 1 and 2 a.m. of the 10th November, I went to 19, Church Lane—I found the prisoner there—he was pointed out to me as the man who had stabbed Flynn—I told him the charge, and he made a mumbling statement I could not understand—he was charged at the station—the knife was handed to me.
Prisoner's Defence. I have nothing to say; I know nothing about it.
GUILTT — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD GODFREY . I am a sub-warder at the House of Detention—the prisoner was committed on a warrant to the House of Detention on a charge of assault—on the morning of Tuesday, 26th October, I went to the refractory cell where he had been placed; that is a cell used by persons who are guilty of insubordinate conduct—I went with Principal Warder Cape to take some clothes to that cell—the clothes are always taken out of the cells at night and given to the prisoner the first thing in the morning—the prisoner asked what the clothes were for and we told him to put on, and he said he would put no more b——clothes on in that place—Cape said "Very well, take the bed out Godfrey"—I went to take the bed out and he struck Cape in the mouth—I went to Cape's assistance, and the prisoner turned round on me and caught me by the whiskers and struck me several times over the face and we fell down—while I was trying to get my whiskers from his hand he bit me on the thumb—we went for the assistance of other officers and when we got back the prisoner had broken up the bed and smashed the window, and he swore he would break the head of the first man who entered the cell—he was secured and put under restraint—he had got a portion of the bed in his hand—I had to go under Dr. Smiles for the bite in my thumb—I suffered pain for about a fortnight or three weeks all up the arm.
Prisoner. I was very queer with delerium tremens when I got inside and I did not know what I was doing.
By THE COURT. He was sober—he was not brought in tipsy, it was for an assault on his father.
WILLIAM SMILES , M. D. I am surgeon at the House of DetentionGodfrey did not complain to me for two or three days, he treated the matter lightly at first—there was a wound on the right thumb, which inflamed and became more painful, the pain extending up the arm—he has got well, but at one time the thumb was very bad indeed; he was under my care about a fortnight—he has gone on with his duty, although he has been suffering much—the prisoner was not suffering from delerium tremens—I have no doubt he had been drinking before he came into the prison, but this was several days afterwards—his arm was put out, but that was not done in the prison—I understood he would not get into the van at the police-office and he was forced in, but I know nothing further about that.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he had been ill-related by the officers at the House of Detention, and that he had had his arm put out which was afterwards set by Dr. Gibson.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding— Three Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH WEBB . I live at 15, Old Town, Clapham—about 6o'elock on the evening of 10th November I was in Long Lane, turning into Cloth Fair—I saw three or four young men in the street standing together, the prisoner was one of them—as I was passing the end of that turning the prisoner came in front of me, rushed at me and drew his hand down my waistcoat, caught hold of my chain, which had a watch at one end and a coin at the other; he dragged it out of my pocket and from the button hole and ran up the turning—I could see the watch and chain in his hand as he ran away—I started after him and was interfered with by the others, one tore my coat and another tried to catch hold of me—I knocked them on one side with my fist, got past them, and went after the prisoner—I called "Stop thief!"—I afterwards saw him taken by a constable—I only lost sight of him for one moment as he turned the corner—I am sure he is the man who took my watch—the value is 14l.—I wore it at my waistcoat—one of the young men pulled my coat on one side to see if it was there.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The policeman was running after you—he was running by the side of you at first—you had passed the watch to some one else—I saw you gather it up in your hand—I had a full view of your face.
WILLIAM FAKE (City Policeman 254). About 6.15 on this night I was in New Street, Cloth Fair and heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I saw some men running and followed them down the street—as I got to the corner the prisoner got in front of me and pushed me back twice, he took hold of my coat and asked me what was the matter—he then put his foot out and tried to throw me down—I missed the other man who was running—the prosecutor came up and said he had stolen his watch, and charged him—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw another man running, and ran after him—he had just gone round the corner when you stopped me—you were in front of me when he turned the corner.
Prisoner's Defence. I stopped the policeman, and asked him what was the matter. The prosecutor came up and said directly, "You are one of them."
GUILTY of stealing the watch, but not of the violence. He also
PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in February, 1874— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. STRAIGHT and Gill conducted the Prosecution; MR. THORNE COLE the Defence.
EMMA HANNAH HARD . I am a widow, and reside at East Dulwich—on" the evening of 29th October, between 5 and 6 o'clock, I was at the Ludgate Hill Station, going to Peckham Rye—the train was drawn up, and I was going to get in, when two or three men hustled in front of me, and prevented me getting into the second-class carriage I was going to get in—I found my bag open, and missed my purse, and ran after the prisoner—my purse had been in my bag not five minutes before—the prisoner was one of the men who hustled me—he got into a first-class carriage, and I
got in after him—I said "You have got my purse with a 10l. note in it"—a friend, who was with him, said "I have not got it, and held up his bands—the prisoner made no reply, but jumped out of the carriage, and ran away down the station—I saw him chased by a friend of mine—the other man was left in the carriage—I missed my purse the instant I was hustled.
Cross-examined. With the exception of my lady friend, and one other young lady, everybody on the platform were strangers to me—there was a crowd on the platform—the other man had a black suit on, a short coat, and round hat—I said "You have my purse with a 10l. note in it"—I said that to both of them, and the other man said "I have not it"—the whole matter occupied a very few seconds—from the time I first saw my bag open till I saw the prisoner in custody, would be about five minutes—I saw the prisoner in the custody of the police inspector afterwards.
EMMA PORTWINE . I live at Peckham Rye—I was on the platform of the Ludgate Hill Station on 29th October—I met Mrs. Hard there—she said, "I have lost my purse, and a 10l. note in it," and she ran along the platform, and got into a first-class carriage—the prisoner got out, and I caught hold of his coat collar—he got away, and ran along the platform—the prisoner is the man I caught hold of—I did not see the porter take him.
Cross-examined. I said at the Police Court "A man jumped out of the carriage," and that is the man—I held him for a moment, and then he got away—to the best of my belief the prisoner is the man, but I would not like to solemnly swear it—it took place in a moment—I got into the train afterwards—I did not see any one take the purse from Mrs. Hard, and I did not see her speak to anybody—the prisoner is the only man who got" out of the train before it left the station.
JAMES BLOWER . I am a porter at the Ludgate Hill Station—I was on the platform about six o'clock on the evening of the 29th October—as I was attending the 5.48 p.m. train to the Crystal Palace, I saw something like a confusion—I went up, and heard Mrs. Hard say "A 10l. note was in my purse, and that is gone with the purse"—I turned round, and saw the prisoner wrench away from Mrs. Portwine—I run after him, and caught him on the stairs—I did not lose sight of him from the time he escaped from Mrs. Portwine until I caught him—one of the company's police was on the landing, and I told him to detain the prisoner till I fetched the inspector; and when the inspector came the prisoner was given in charge to a constable.
Cross-examined. The Inspector came to the bottom of the stairs and I ran up and fetched the ladies down—I should say it was about three minutes from the time I first saw the confusion till the time the ladies came down and saw the prisoner in custody—there is the usual ticket collector at the top of the stairs—when I caught the prisoner he had two flights of stairs to go down.
EDWARD WHELTON . I am Inspector at the Ludgate Hill Station—there is a ticket collector at each gateway—about 6 o'clock on the evening of October 29th Blower spoke to me—the prisoner was then in the custody of the policeman on the landing of the stairs—when I came down to him he wanted to know why he was detained—I said "You are detained for stealing a lady's purse"—he said "I have not done anything of the kind, I am quite willing to be searched.
Cross-examined. He asked me who his accusers were, and I said they were coming down the stairs.
WILLIAM REEVE (City Policeman 470). The prisoner was given into my custody—he said "I was never in a carriage to-night"—after we got to the station he said "I was never in a first-class carriage," that was when Mrs. Hard said that she got into a first-class carriage—I did not find any ticket on him.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in October, 1870.** Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MILLWOOD conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HICKMORE (City Policeman 170). Early on the morning of 31st October I was in Gresham Street at the corner of Wood Street—my attention was drawn to a light burning in the window of the second floor of 114, Wood Street—I went for the man on beat and rang next door and called the housekeeper up—I then sent for the sergeant, and' when he came with another officer we searched the premises.
BAXTER HUNT (City Detective). I went in company with Sergeant Honister and searched 114, Wood Street, which is in the occupation of Messrs. Gilliland—we got into the premises from next door, the housekeeper allowed us to go on the roof, and from the roof we got into Messrs. Gilliland's premises through a window—upon searching the place we found the prisoner concealed on the staircase on the second floor—he had a piece of canvas over him—I asked him to get up—he did not move—I took the piece of canvas off—he had his eyes open—he was not asleep as he pretended to—I pulled him up—he said "Wait a moment, I am asleep and very queer"—as soon as I got him from behind the staircase I searched him and found in his coat pocket forty picks or skeleton keys, three screw drivers, a hand chisel, a centre punch, a hammer, a hand vice and file, a piece of candle, and a quantity of matches—on the packing case where the prisoner was lying I found this small crowbar—I produce all the things—I went into the counting house and saw that the safe had been attempted to be opened, and the marks on the door corresponded with the hard chisel—there were also marks on the wall corresponding with the tools—we got the prisoner off the premises by the way we had got in and took him to the station—I searched him there and found a promissory note for 6l. odd, some duplicates, and 15s. and some odd halfpence—the outer door was secured with a padlock and bar, and the doors inside the premise were open except one on the third floor which was locked—I found the key of that lock in the prisoner's pocket—he gave an address at Weymouth Street; Portland Road.
JOSEPH HONISTER (City Police Sergeant 32). Early on the morning of 31st October from information I received I went with Police-constables Hick-more and Hunt to examine the premises 114, Wood Street—I was present when the prisoner was found—I examined the premises on the arrival of the occupiers in the morning—I found a timepiece and four machines in a coat placed in a basket on the second floor which had been taken from various parts of the premises—there was some candle grease on the clock—the windows and doors were fastened—there were marks on the safe and on the walls corresponding with the tools that were found.
—on the night of 30th October I locked up the premises about 7 o'clock—I locked the middle door which shuts the upper part, told the agent on the first floor we were going, and left him the bar and bolt—this timepiece was in a room on the third floor, which was kept locked—it had only been there a day or two before—it is my master's property—these machines were on the top floor, screwed to benches, with which the girls worked—they were up there the night before, and are my master's property—I saw them the day previous, about half-an-hour before we closed—I have seen the prisoner a number of times; he has been to our place to repair machines—it is perhaps six months since he repaired the last machine, perhaps longer, and perhaps not that time—he has been accustomed to come there to repair machines—he had a right to come up and see if we had anything to do, but certainly not to remain there.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not aware that the desire was that you should not come up before 6.30 at night, but I told you not to come when the governor was there; you came bothering for the loan of half a sovereign, and I have told you not to go up; you always wanted money when you had any job on—I say it is six months since you have done any work—I have not made inquiries how you were getting on with the work lately—I locked the door leading to the warehouse on the second floor—there are two warehouses you have to pass to get to the second floor—you might pass up and down fifty times and they not see you; people don't stand looking through the glass all day.
SEPTIMUS BROCKWELL . I am errand boy to Messrs. Gilliland—I left the premises about 7 o'clock on the evening of 30th October—before leaving I went upstairs and put the gas out and locked the door of the room on the third floor, where the clock was—this is the clock—I saw it on the 30th October on the table, under the glass case—I hung the key of the room up in the warehouse in the usual place—I was there on the following morning when the basket was found in a little office on the second floor; four of the sewing machines, and this timepiece and a coat were found in the basket.
HENRY GILLILAND, JUNIOR (examined by the Prisoner). You have been doing a goodish bit of work for us—you made us some machines last year, which we paid you for—there was a law-suit—you made several more machines for me after that, six or seven—you made me three pleating machines, and I paid you for them—you did not make me three more pleating machines after that—about three months ago I came to you about a machine which I had in order, which I would not take from you out had 5l. deposit upon it—you made me three machines and one I did not take, that is four—I never had three more from you after you made the first three—I ordered four, and I got three—you gave me a written guarantee that they were patent, and I got into trouble with you, and of course I would not have the fourth machine—the price was to be 30l. or 35l.—you wanted 40l., and I paid you 5l. deposit; you wanted more money, and I said "No, finish it; bring it in, and you shall have the money"—you called and asked us to have the machine, and I said we would not have it—we returned it on your hands—I gave the order for four machines and only took three of them, and the other was left in your hands.
Witness for the Defence.
about the infringement of the patent and Mr. Gilliland had to pay something, and was served with an injunction—you were served with a paper to attend—I believe you made some more machines for Mr. Gilliland after that, as far as I recollect—I can't say how many he ordered—I believe he had two or three and a part of one he bought—about two months ago you came home and told me you had got an order for another machine for Mr. Gilliland—that would be five machines and a part of one that you sold him—before you came to the City you did a little stove and gas fitting and lock picking—you have done a good deal of lock picking—men have come in when I have been there and they have waited an hour for you to go and pick them, and on one occasion there was a key broken at Mr. Gilliland's and you had to go and pick that lock—I don't know what the understanding was between you and Mr. Gilliand when you made the second machines after the injunction was filed—they were only parts of machines, what are commonly called duffers.
The prisoner, in a long defence, complained that the. prosecutor had induced Mm to make some machines for him which were an infringemnt of a patent, and that afterwards he asked him to make four more to substitute for the patent ones, knowing at the time there was an injunction against him; he afterwards refused to have one of those machines, and it was thrown upon his hands;. that the only reason he went on the prosecutor's premises was to destroy the machines, in order to do him an injury, and not with intent to steal. He also stated that the skeleton keys were used by him in his trade as a locksmith.
GUILTY —Recommended to mercy by the Jury— Six Month's Imprisonment.
MR. WILDEY WEIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. MONTAGU.
WILLIAMS and Charles Matthews the Defence.
EDWARD POWELL I was on duty in the neighbourhood of Camden Street, Bromley, about 6.30 p.m., on 28th October—I was called to No. 8, and directed to take the prisoner into custody—he said that twenty policemen would not take him—I told him he would have to go up to the station with me and I took hold of his arm—he threw me down three times, trying to get away from me—I felt rather stiff for a day or two afterwards—I had not any bruises—I was in uniform at the time.
Cross-examined. I took hold of his left arm—I don't think he fell at any time—I went on the ground three times—I won't be positive whether he fell or not, I don't think he did—I will say he did not fall.
The prisoner received a good character.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, November 25th, 1874.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT
BALLANTINE, with MR. STRAIGHT, the Defence.
KHALEE KHAN . I understand English a little, not much—I was a seaman on board a ship called the Emily Augusta—I shipped on board her in March last at Akyab, in the Bay of Bengal—I don't know in which month the ship arrived in England—there was a seaman on board named Fugeer
Ali; he shipped at the same time I did at Akyab—he was in good health when he shipped—I don't know his age; I am 26; he was more young than me—he shipped as a seaman—Captain Walters, the prisoner, was the captain—the first time I saw anything done to Fugeer Ali was, I think, about two months and a half after we left Akyab—I saw both his ears rotten, and a broken head; the captain hit him—I was on deck at the time—Fugeer Ali was hauling the crotchet brace close to the main rigging on the starboard side—I was close to the forecastle—I see the captain hit him with his hand, a lick—that time I see myself; some time he hit him with ropes—about three months after we sailed I see him outside the forecast le scraping the blue paint; the captain come and say he do very little work—"Do you want to stop all day here?"—he did not answer, then the captain lick his backside, after that he catch a belaying pin, and two or three times he hit him with a wooden belaying pin on his head, and his head was bleeding—after that the captain said "Let us see your knife?"—he was scraping with a knife; he gave it to the captain, and the captain pitch it overboard, and then the captain said "What you going to do now?"—he did not answer. him he did not understand English—the captain told him to go off to scrape paint on the poop—he was striking him all the time, all night, and all the time, but I did not see any time bis head broke, only I tell that what I see myself—the captain strike him all night and all the time; he strike everybody, night and day—one day Fugeer Ali was holystoning the deck, and that time I see the captain hit him with a belaying pin in the head again—I think that was a week after the poop-business—some places on his head got better during the voyage home, and some places got rotten, his ears were rotten, both of them; they were swelled, and matter come out of them all the time—they did not continue so all the time to England; he got a little better before he eame on the landing.
Q. How often altogether do you suppose you have seen the captain strike him on the head with the belaying pin? A. One time I see him two or three times hit him with the belaying pin, another time two or three times he hit him with the belaying pin when he was working at holystone on the deck—I have told you all the occasions on which I saw him strike him five or six times altogether I think—this (produced) is the belaying pin, that is the sort of thing; it is in the rail, on both sides—two or three times I see the captain lick him with his fist, and I saw his broken nose, too—he lick his nose with his fist and break his nose—I did not see him lick him in any other way—I see he had lumps in his legs and other parts of his body, but I did not see what caused them.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLASTTINE. I am a Lascar—I think thirty-three of us altogether shipped from Akyab, all Lascars; a Serang shipped us, Mahomed Abdul, and he came to England with us—the only English on board were two mates, one captain and two boys, five altogether—the deceased was quite in good health when he shipped, the same like me—he did his work quickly and readily of course, he was not lazy, none of the Lascars were lazy; they did their work readily of course—the captain say "He very lazy, he very lazy," he say "lazy" to everybody, but we no lazy, I work before in another ship like this ship, when we got to work of course we did well, when no work we stop in our place—the captain always called us dirty black men, I was not dirty; how do I know if my companions were: sometimes when we are at work at that time we are dirty, but of
course we must get clean; they were not more dirty than they were obliged to be from their work—I never see them eat opium—I did not eat opium,1 see only one man, not everybody, that was Abdoolah, but I see very little of him after he leave Calcutta—he was not the Serang, he was second boatswain—I have sometimes hit some of the Lascars when the captain gave me orders, but I did it very easy, not hard; the captain made me do it; I did not strike them on the head, sometimes I give him a slap, sometimes I catch hold of a rope and give him a whack on the back side to make him work; that was by the captain's orders, I don't like to hit the people, I strike very easy—I never did it without the captain's orders—the last time I saw the captain strike the deceased with the belaying pin was about two months and a half before we got to London; so far as Cork he hit him, he strike everybody so far as Cork, he hit everybody all the time—the last time I see him hit with the belaying pin was when he was holystoning; that was about three months and a half after we left Akyab—there was a Lascar on board named Ameroodee, a big fellow, he was not called Cassaab,—Cassaab was another man, and Ameroodee was another man—I remember Ameroodee and a lot of us being ordered to wash the decks before we got to the Cape; we wash decks every day, all hands—one day the captain told them to turn to, everybody was gone to work, the mate came and told us to attend to the Serang—at first we refused, the mate come and say "What is the matter? Turn to and go and wash the deck;" at first we did not, and afterwards the captain told the Serang to turn to and wash the deck and everybody has gone to work and did it—we did turn to directly the captain ordered us—I am not Englishman, Sir, I am black man; I can't understand proper English, what I understand I answer, what I don't understand I can't answer—I did not see Ameroodee go up to the captain in a threatening attitude—when he got sick I see him sometimes go for medicine—I did not see him go up to the captain when he was ordered to wash the deck—I see the captain strike him, not at that time, I can't say proper that time he hit him; I did not see what he went for at that time—I can't understand what "threatening" means.
ABDUL (the evidence of the witness was interpreted by Lieutenant A. W. Stiffe). I was burra-tindal on board the Emsly Augusta, that is the same as boatswain's mate—I shipped at Akyab—I knew a, Lascar named Fugeer Ali, he joined at Akyab; when he came on board he was in good health, not at all sick—I did not know him before he joined; he was a second-class Lascar, that is an ordinary seaman—on the voyage home I saw the captain do something to him; he was scraping paint on the starboard side of the forecastle and the captain came from aft and told him to be quick, and the captain struck him two or three times with a wooden belaying pin like that, and further took his knife from him and threw it overboard—he struck him two or three or four times with the belaying pin on the head and a quantity of blood flowed and he tumbled down; then he stood up, and the captain kicked him two or three times and told him to go aft—I think this was two or three months before we arrived in England, but I can't speak with certainty, what does a man like me know about time?—on another occasion they were scraping the decks and the captain came and told him to scrub harder, and took a broom and struck him on the head and broke the skin over his eye—on another occasion we were hauling the braces and the captain came and found fault with us all and struck some of us, and struck also Fugeer Ali with a belaying pin, and he fell down and blood flowed from
his head—once when they were pumping the ship out the captain came and told them they were not pumping properly, to pump harder, and then also struck him with a pin and with a rope in several places (Pointing to his head and neck), and he also then tumbled down—there were so many occasions upon which he was struck that I cannot recollect the particular instances, but his nose was damaged by the captain striking him, and also his ears very much.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. The captain kept on striking them all day and night too, Fugeer Ali among the others,. Until they arrived—I saw the captain strike him five or six days before we arrived—I saw it, I think that was after we left Cork—the pilot came on board at Cork—when the pilot came on board the captain was striking the men, he did not strike them before the pilot, the pilot was aft and he came forward and struck them—all the men saw it, it was with a rope on the back—the last time I saw the captain strike Fugeer Ali with the belaying pin was I think twenty or twenty-five days before we got to Cork; after that he struck him with—the rope, but he did not strike him with the pin after that—I will swear it was not more than twenty or twenty-five days—the head bled—he was pumping and the captain said he was not. pumping hard, he was not using his strength—the Lascars were neither very good Lascars nor very bad—I signed articles as burra-lindal or chief boatswain's mate—I had been to sea before, I have always done Serangs work—I have been in sea-going ships—I have been from Calcutta to Jedda, a port in the Red Sea—I have been ten times to the Mauritius and five times to England, twice as a Lascar and three times as a tindal.
SHEIK ITWAREE (interpreted). I was cook on board the ship—I knew Fugeer Ali, I knew, him on shore—he was well when he came on board, and not at all sick—I saw the captain strike him, he was scraping the paint, and the captain said "Get on, are you going to be in one place all day?" and he took the knife from him and threw it overboard and struck him on the head with a belaying pin three or four times; the skin was broke and the blood fell on his clothes; that was about a month after we left Akyab—after the striking he sent him aft on the poop to do work—I saw the captain strike him with a broom when they were washing the poop, he struck him on the forehead and it bled—I saw these two times, and if you ask me more I will tell you anything else—on a third occasion when they were tacking the ship I will swear that he struck him with a pin and also with his fist and kicked him—he struck him all over, and kicked him behind and struck him with his fist on the nose, and he fell down and then afterwards he got up and went to his work—the last-time I saw him strike him was four months and a half before the ship arrived in England, that was when the ship was being tacked—I did not see him strike him with the belaying pin after that.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. We had very bad weather just before we got to the Cape—my galley was by the foremast—sometimes the men had their meals inside the forecastle and sometimes outside—they had no fixed time for dinner, they got their dinner whenever they were allowed to—for a time they got their food regularly and it was good, after that they did not get proper time to their meals, and the food was bad and stuff was mixed with the rice.
England I saw the captain strike him with a wooden belaying pin three or four times on the head, and a deal of blood came out over his face—I only saw him strike him with the belaying pin one day—I saw the blood on his clothes—there were holes in his head and a great deal of blood came "out over his face and clothes—he left his clothes on his body and when they were worn out he threw them away—I did not see any of his clothes afterwards in a box, he had not a box.
WILLIAM COOK . I was second mate on board the Emily Augusta, and sailed with her on the voyage from Akyab to London—I joined her in Bahia at the Brazils, and went with her from Bahia to Akyab—besides myself, there were on board nine men, Europeans, and two boys, who are here now—at Akyab we shipped a crew of thirty-two or thirty-three' Lascars, I don't know which—Fugeer Ali was one of. them—I observed him when he came on board; he was in good health—after leaving Akyab, about a month, as near as I can remember, I saw the captain beat him with the rope's end, and with his open hand, and sometimes with a wooden belaying pin—he struck him on the head-with the belaying pin, sometimes on the arm, and sometimes on the leg—they were pretty smart blows—the first time the captain struck him I saw blood come out of his head, all over him—he generally struck him morning and evening, but it was continually kept up; I don't remember how often—we pumped the water out of the vessel every day and every watch at night—one day, about a month before we got home, I saw the captain strike Fugeer Ali three heavy blows one after the other on the head with a wooden belaying pin; the blood came out all over his head and shoulders—I did not overhaul his head—I did not see him use the belaying pin on Fugeer Ali again in this way between the first time and the time just before we got to EnglandI can only mention twice that I saw him myself, but I saw him strike him with the rope's" end and his open hand all about his shoulders and head and legs—on one occasion I saw him strike him twice with his open hand on the ears—on coming home one of his ears swelled up a great deal; it was greatly swollen up, and towards the latter end of the voyage, a month before we got in here, he was not fit for anything—he was not fit to work, he was getting so weak and so unwell; whether he was diseased or not, I do not know—he was always complaining about being unwell.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I never sailed with a Lascar crew before—we had not nasty weather in the bay of Bengal; as near as I can remember, about eight weeks we had hardly any wind—after that, from the Mauritius to the Cape, we had squally, cold weather—she was a large vessel of 1,279 tonnage—she was not a good sailer—we were a little over six months in making the voyage; it is an average voyage of about four months and a half—when I first went on board I did not notice Fugeer Ali particularly, so that I cannot say what his appearance was as regards health—the head of this lot of Lascars was the Serang; his name was Abdul, I believe—it was his duty to keep the men in order under the officers of the vessel—the Lascars are a difficult lot to manage, if you have to go amongst men able to speak no English, and you can't speak the native language—they were a lazy, sleepy lot, and they would sleep. for a week towards the latter end of the voyage, whether blowing or not, but not when they left Akyab—towards the latter end of the voyage they were a dirty lot too; that was after we got in bad weather, two months and a half or a month and a half before we got home; when we wanted
the most work out of them they were the least inclined to do any—there were great complaints about their filth in their berths—about eight of them used to make their berths filthy, instead of leaving them for natural purposes—there was a great deal of difficulty, in fact it was not possible at times, to make them work—I myself have been obliged to rope's end them; as far as I know I never injured any of them—a decent, orderly crew of eighteen English seamen could have brought this vessel to England—a good many of these Lascars did not understand their work, and a good many of them shipped as able seamen who knew nothing whatever about their duties—two of them were shipped as steersmen, and they could not steer—the captain was a good deal on deck morning and night; it was an anxious kind of voyage to him, with a crew of that kind—I have seen the captain take the wheel myself in bad weather—I can steer, and I have steered the vessel too the first mate, Shurtz, has also steered—I do not know anything of one of the Lascars drawing a knife upon the captain—I saw one of the men who fell overboard draw a wooden belaying pin on the mate one day; the mate was getting the jib out at the time, and he had ordered the man to look after the halyards or one of the ropes; instead of fastening the rope with the belaying pin, which I saw him take from the rail, he hove it off and let go of it—he did no t actually hit the mate, and I believe the mate took the pin away from him—I might have had good reason to complain of Fugeer Ali myself, but I don't remember having done so—I have got him out of his berth for the purpose of doing his work, and directly my back was turned he would be off again—that occurred constantly for about a month before we got to London—I had not to complain of him before that—the captain was a good seaman, and always at his post—we were short of food for about a month and a half, and we were obliged to break into a cargo of rice.
Re-examined. They were a sluggish, sleepy lot towards the end of the voyage when the food ran short, and they did not do their work properly—the men that were dirty were not allowed to use the closet—the captain ordered the closet to be locked up, and the men had to go over the head—the closet was first locked up about a month after leaving Akyab, and it was kept locked—it was the closet the Lascars had used before, their proper closet—I saw the mate strike the man who drew the wooden belaying pin upon him with his open hand on the ear—that might be a little more than a month and a half after leaving.
By THE COURET. The closet was locked up because there had been a complaint about the men using too much water, and of its coming out of the hole on deck—they always took water with them when they went to to the closet—there was one closet left open, but it belonged to the officers, and not the Lascars—there was no closet to which the Lascars had access except that which was locked up.
WILLIAM MATTISON . I am seventeen years of age—I was a boy on board the Emily Augusta—I joined at Babia, in the Brazils—I remember the Lascar crew joining the ship at Akyab—I knew Fugeer Ali—I have seen the captain strike him over the head with a belaying pin—I saw him once strike him about five or six times on the head with it, and all the blood was running out of his head—I should say that was about three months after we left Akyab—he was scraping on the poop at the time—I noticed his ears; they were swollen—I did not see what produced that—I noticed
them about three months and a half or so after we left Akyab; they continued swollen till we got in.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I was not examined at the Police Court with respect to Fugeer Ali, I was examined before the Coroner—I was boy on board—Pyke was a boy too—I worked as a seaman—the weather from Mauritius to the Cape was not so bad, it was wet and squally—I did not live with the Lascars, they all lived forward in the forecastle; that was a house on deck with bunks—they slept in what blankets they had of their own at the first of the voyage—they slept on deck the first part of the voyage, that was in the fine weather, in the wet and squally weather they slept in the forecastle in the bunks.
JOHN FREEMAN . I am superintendent of the Stranger's Home at Lime-house—on Saturday night, 19th September, the whole of the Lascar crew of the Emily Augusta were brought to the Home—amongst them was a man named Fugeer Ali—on Sunday, the 20th, Police Sergeant Hansom came there—Mr. Salter was there—the sergeant put some questions to Fugeer Ali which Mr. Salter interpreted; the sergeant wrote the paper and I signed it—this is it—Fugeer Ali appeared to be dying at the time—this correctly states the answers which were interpreted—after he had made the statement, the prisoner and the mate were brought into the dormitory to him, and the statement was read to them by the sergeant—the prisoner objected to the power of the sergeant, and refused, as he said, to be charged by him, and when asked questions he objected, saying those were leading questions, and he would not answer them—the paper was read to him, and also to the mate, and they were told that they must regard themselves as prisoners, and the captain made some insulting observation to the policeofficer—the questions asked were in connection with the statement in the paper—"Did you beat the man, as he states, you did?"—"Did you strike the man, as he states, you did?"—the captain denied it in general terms, and denied the right of the police to put such questions to him.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I am Superintendent of the Asiatic Home—all these Lascars were brought there on 19th September, they have been residing together there.
JOSEPH SALTER . I am Missionary to the Asiatics of London—on Sunday, 20th September, I was at the Home, I saw Fugeer Ali there, he was in bed, he was very ill indeed, he appeared to be almost in a dying state, he spoke very feebly—Sergeant Hansom came there, and in consequence of what he said I put to Fugeer Ali all the officer's questions, he gave distinct answers to each; the questions were put twice over and answers given, the same in each case—the officer wrote each answer down, or appeared to do so, and Fugeer Ali put his mark after it was read over to him—we went through it with him, we went over the questions and answers—the questions were not written down, but the answers were—afterwards the prisoner and the mate were brought in—the sergeant then asked the same questions again; he looked at his paper and asked the same questions again through me, and I put the same questions over again to Fugeer Ali and elicited the same answers—after we had been through those questions they shifted the captain and the mate into each other's places to test the mind of the sick man, and asked some of the questions over again, such as "Which is the mate," "Which is the captain," "Who struck you," and so on, and he indicated one or the other just the same—he answered correctly the same as he had done at first.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I am not in any business or profession except what I have mentioned; I am a missionary—the officer took the deceased's statement through me in the absence of the prisoner and the mate—the officer put certain questions and I translated them and then translated back the answers—I did not see what was put down at the time—I took down nothing—the officer appeared to take down the answers, I saw him writing—I saw the paper some time afterwards, not at the time—the questions were repeated before the captain and mate came in, the same questions were put and translated by me in the same way and the answers given in the same way; that was repeated before the captain came in—the policeman did not go on writing on the second occasion, he merely looked at what he had written—I don't know what became of it; I never had it—Fugeer Ali signed it on the first occasion—I did not sign it—the deceased was in bed at the time—plenty of their own faith see the men, some hundreds I was going to say—several Mahometans came from the various ships to see the deceased and did see him—no Moollab came, I don't know one in. England—no religious person of his own persuasion came to see him, it is a very unusual thing for them to do that among Mahometans, I don't know of such a case.
ALFRED HANSOM (Police Sergeant K 65). On Sunday, 20th September, I. went to the Strangers' home about 12.30 in the day—I saw Fugeer Ali in bed—Mr. Salter was with me—I put certain questions which Mr. Salter interpreted; there appeared to be answers made, Mr. Salter interpreted them—as this was done I wrote down the answers, the substance of what was said, in the form of a narrative—this is the paper I wrote at the time—Fugeer Ali put his mark to it and Mr. Freeman witnessed it—after that was done the two prisoners, the captain and the mate, were brought in—they were not at the Home at the time I took the statement, I believe they were on board ship—they were brought in afterwards by two constables—the statement was then read over in their presence and Mr. Salter interpreted it to the dying man, and he was asked if it was true, and he said it was, in front of the captain and the mate—the captain said "It is a lie, they are a confounded lazy lot"—that was all the reply the captain made to that; the mate did not make any answer to it—they were then both taken in custody—I did not take down the questions and answers, I embodied the substance of it—I remember the questions I put—I asked the man if he thought he was dying—he spoke articulately in the first instance, but I think when the statement was read over he only nodded, because he was very weak, he seemed to be very low and he got lower; as the statement went on he seemed to be much lower.
MR. JUSTICE KEATING considered that the statement was scarcely receivable as a dying declaration, but was admissible on the ground of its being read over in the prisoner's presence and assented to as being correct by the deceased. It was then read as follows: "Statement of Fugeer Ali, a Lascar I joined the ship Emily Augusta at Akyab, Burmah. On the voyage, about a month and a half after we left Akyab, the first mate beat me on the head with a capstan bar, about two months ago; this occurred daily; he also struck me in the belly with the belaying pin. The mate struck me on the arm with the belaying pin; this was continued all the way to London. The captain struck me on the left ear with an iron belaying pin, and when I fell down he kicked me in the loins; this occurred daily. I believe I am dying. I was a strong hearty man when I began the voyage. I have been at sea two years. I was never impudent or mutinous."
ROBERT SHURTZ . I was chief mate of the Emily Augusta—I joined at Calcutta—we sailed from Akyab on the 4th March, and for a month or six Weeks things went on well on board—I knew Fugeer Ali—I have seen the captain knock him about with a rope's end and a belaying pin—I can recollect two occasions when he was hit on the head—the belaying pin caused the blood to flow; the last time I saw the captain strike him on the head with the belaying pin was about two months before we got to England—he also struck him with a rope on the back, arms, and legs—we ran short of food and had to use the cargo and the rice which we fetched from Callao, and the men were all very weak at the end of the voyage—when the cold weather set in the men were given warm clothes—I remember Sheik Abdoolah's death and I told the captain I did not like the way the man died—I did not like the usage that he had at the time—I never spoke of the men in general—I just spoke of them when Abdoolah died—that did not refer to Fugeer Ali.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I have been in the merchant service since I was fourteen, I am now thirty—I have sailed with a good many captains—Captain Walters understood his business so far as I could tell, but he did not carry on so as to show that he did—the Lascard were an idle, lazy, dirty set of people—nobody has said that the question whether proceedings would be continued against me would depend upon how I gave my evidence—I do not know whether I shall be prosecuted, and I don't care—I do not suppose it depends in the least upon the mode in which I give my evidence—I did not beat the deceased about the head with a capstan bar, I never handled a capstan bar, and if any man on board the ship say that I lifted one it is a lie—I was not in the habit of doing so daily—I did not strike the deceased on the belly with a belaying pin or on the arm—I never used to strike anybody on board the ship; I never handled one from the time I joined it till I was in London, it is altogether a falsehood—I did not hear the deceased state that I had done so, but I heard the statement read out and he assented to it in my presence, it is entirely a falsehood—I never slapped the deceased's face to my knowledge, nor did he take up a belaying pin to me, but another man did—I used that other man the same as the rest when they would not do their work; I used to give him the rope's end—I was charged and in the dock for four or five meetings at the Police Court, and afterwards I was taken out and became a witness—I had heard the statement read to the deceased three weeks before that.
FRANCIS CORNER . I am a surgeon practicing in the East India Road—on 19th September I was called to the Stranger's Asiatic Home, and saw the deceased Fugeer Ali—I also saw him next day, Sunday—his general condition was very emaciated and very weak—he had a depression of the bridge of the nose as if the nose was broken, and a scar extending from the top of the head backwards about four inches, the scalp, at the upper end being considerably raised, with a scab on it, and surrounded by dense thickening over an area of an inch in all directions—the wound on the bead was not wholly healed, a scab covered a certain part at the top of the raised portion—the unhealed part was covered by a scab; it was still a wound covered over with a scab; both ears were thickened, and in the left was an abscess which had discharged a little, both matter and blood, but it never emptied itself till two or three days after—it was an ordinary abscess, not very bad; it was about the size of a walnut—the right ear had a scar as well as thickening—I could see no scar on the left ear, but there was an abscess in it—
there were three other scars on the head, one about an inch long, and two others about half that length, quite healed—he had an abrasion on the left leg, and sores on both legs, and both fore arms—they were also healed, except the abrasion I mentioned before—he indicated pain in his belly, which was swollen and distended by fluid—his gums indicated that he was suffering from scurvy, but not badly—that was the only indication of scurvy I saw about him—the wounds and marks on the head and nose could not have been produced by any cause which I could account for except violence—I attribute the condition of the ear to concussion from a blow; a blow from this belaying pin would be sufficient to explain it, and the blows on the head too, except the smaller one—I know no case of abscess arising from poorness of blood and short diet—the smaller wounds were quite healed, and had probably been healed a couple of months—they must have been the result of blows—supposing the abscess to have been produced by a blow, I cannot form any judgment as to how long before the blow was given—it had discharged, from time to time, before I saw it, so that it had emptied itself and re-filled, but repeated blows would keep it alive—the large wound on the head had none of the character of an old scar, but I feel it impossible to put a date to it—he was in great danger the first two days I saw him from extreme exhaustion—I attended him day by day from his admission, and did everything I could for him, but he died on 5th October—I made a post-mortem examination on 6th October, but discovered no other marks of violence than those I saw during life—he bad dropsy of the bladder, resulting from chronic disease of the liver—he had also evidence of old peritonitis and enlargement of spleen, which attends that same disease of the liver—under the scab on the scalp I found a channel or sinus leading down to the covering of the bone, and around the opening the thickened fibrous remains of an injury—the contusion around accounted for the thickening which was noticed prior to the death—there was not much cutting about the face—when the scalp was cut into a copious discharge of serum escaped, that was the result of the attack of erysipelas on 30th September, which arose from the abscess and the wound in the left ear—the immediate cause of death was erysipelas—the brain and its membranes were perfectly healthy—the spleen was very much enlarged, some blood was effused into its structure, and its surface adhered to the walls of the abdomen from peritonitis, which is a common consequence of disease of the liver—the right lung was closely adhering to the lining of the chest; the lungs were in a similar condition to the scalp, and there was some bronchitis—there was no contagious disease, but there was a discharge of matter from the scalp which might produce disease in another person—assuming that the abscess was caused by the wound on the head which was caused by a blow, and the erysipelas supervened, I am of opinion that the death was caused by the blow received—that would be the more likely looking at the state of health in which I believed him to be—the discharge from the abscess would be weakening to a very slight degree—wounds on the head bleed profusely, and would therefore further weaken a patient.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. My opinion is, that the abscess in the ear was the proximate cause of death; that is, that it brought on erysipelas, which produced death; that is my calm medical opinion—I know no natural cause calculated to produce an abscess in that part of the ear—the construction of the ear is exceedingly delicate, but the abscess was in the part external to the head, not in the part running
in towards the brain—there must have been some irritant cause to have produced it—I think it quite probable that a sting from some poisonous insect might do it, but I never saw it—any violent irritant, whether a blow or otherwise, might bring on an abscess in that part—the structure of the liver was wholly altered; it was what in this country is called a gin-drinker's liver, but in Scotland whiskey gets the credit of it—it would not be produced by opium; it must be some alcoholic drink—a man could not work on long with such a liver as that, and there was adhesion of one side of the lungs—the peritonitis indicated that there had been inflammation of the peritoneum, the outer coating of the bowels; that must have been over two months before, and it may have been a year before; the symptoms were too vague to enable me to speak—there was no peritonitis then; it was simply the effects—the lungs did not indicate long-continued disease—the state of the stomach did not arise from external injury, but was a consequence of the state of the liver; it must have terminated in death, there is no cure—the disease of the liver may have begun years before, a slight attack gradually subsiding, and fresh mischief supervening—I cannot imagine that he was in a healthy condition when he shipped six months before, but he might appear so—there were no live vermin on his head, but their eggs existed on his hair, showing that they had been there—his head had not been cleaned.
Re-examined. He was taken directly to bed—I think he might have done his duty on board to all appearance as a healthy man five or six months before, but if he met with violence after he came on board that would render him more liable.
GUILTY of Manslaughter. —(Set next case).
OLD COURT—Thursday, November 26th, 1874
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MESSRS. POLAND and Beasley conducted the Prosecution; and Mr.
SERJEANT BALLANTINE with Me. Straight the Defence.
ROBERT SHURTZ . I hold a chief mate's certificate—I joined the Emily Augusta at Akyab on 4th March—she was a British vessel sailing under the English flag and belonged to the port of Liverpool—the prisoner was the captain, Cook was the second mate, and there were two boys named Pyke and Mattison—those were the only Europeans, except the carpenter, who shipped at Calcutta and who was taken sick and did not come home in the vessel—there was a crew of about thirty-three Lascars who were engaged at Calcutta and taken across in a steamer to Akyab, a port in the Bay of Bengal—eighteen Englishmen would have been a sufficient crew for the vessel, but being Lascars we had thirty-three—she was 1,279 tons burden—we sailed from Akyab on 10th March—the crew appeared in good health at starting—Sheik Abdoolah was an able seaman, and in my opinion he was about the best on board the ship as regards seamanship—I did not see anything the matter with him when he first joined—I saw him every day—every man who was shipped to steer the vessel was incapable of doing so; those men are called secunnies, which is equivalent to quarter-master in England—as not one of them was able to do the duty required, Sheik Abdoolah was put to the wheel—Abdul the Serang, asked if there was a
man on board who could steer—the Serang is about the same as boatswain in a white crew; he spoke very little English—he recommended Abdoolah to be put to the wheel to steer about fourteen days or three weeks after leaving Akyab—Sheik Abdoolah could steer a little, but not very well, he did not know the English letters on the compass—when he had been at the wheel a few days he was ill and refused to go there when he was told by the chief mate—he said that he did not sign to do that duty, he was no secunnie, and declined going there, and the captain called him up on the poop and made him go there; he hit him a slap with his hand and sent him aft in a hurry and he then went to the wheel and stopped there—the secunnies for steering get more pay than the seamen—Sheik Abdoolah died in the beginning of June; I can't remember the date—I have seen the captain hit him over the head, arms, and legs with anything that be to hand, sometimes a rope's end and sometimes a piece of leather which used to be there, which came off a sail; it was about a fathom long, and I have seen him use a belaying pin several times—this (produced) is one of them—I have seen him strike him with it on the head and arm and on two occasions I have seen him strike him on the head with a belaying pin and the blood used to flow from the wound—that was three weeks or more before he died—he also struck him with the belaying pin on the left arm while he was at the wheel—it had no effect on his arm at the time, but the same arm was swollen at the time of his death from the wrist up to the shoulder—the captain frequently struck him with the leather about the shoulders and back—after the leather came off the sail it used to be used almost every day on the deceased while at the wheel—it was about a fathom long and four or five inches wide, it would be hard when it was dry and soft when it was damp—I saw nothing done to him before he was put to the wheel, nor was anything the matter with him, but shortly after he was put to the wheel his ears began to swell—he was at the wheel the day before his death, he was not able to steer very well, but he had to manage, and after he left the wheel he went and turned in—he was very weak at that time and he seemed to be delirious to me, he was in his bunk talking—the captain asked me where he was and I told him, and he told me I should get him out and send him to the wheel—he had been his time, four hours, so he was wanted to go to the wheel again—I said nothing to the captain then about his state, but I went to the deceased and found he was delirious, and I went and told the captain that the man was not right, he seemed to be delirious, but he said nothing—the second mate and me went in and the second mate told the man to come out, but he did not come; he was lying in his bunk in a weak state and would not come, the captain said that he would soon come and get him out, and he came inside and got the man out, and got hold of him and threw him out the door—he picked the man up and chucked him out and he fell outside the door—the captain then got a belaying pin and gave him two or three blows about the back and then the man got up and walked aft to the wheel—I did not go after him and I don't know how he got on—he had to stop there till his watch was up, four hours; he had been four hours off, and he went on in the regular turn of duty—on the day of his death he was in the forecastle, the captain asked me where he was and told me to get him out—I went and found him lying in his berth, he seemed to be very-weak; he would not come out and the captain went and hauled him out, and told me to send him to work—he had been making a mat some time previously, and he told me to set him to work to finish
it—that was about 11 o'clock in the forenoon, or half-past—he had not been at the wheel, I am certain, since 8 o'clock that morning—I sent him to make the mat, and left him there—he could not use his left arm, and said that he could not work at the mat—when the captain told him to make the mat, he said that he could not use one arm, and I left him there, sitting by the side of the mat; whether he done anything I don't know, I walked away—I next saw him after I came out from dinner, about 1 o'clock, tied up to the windlass bit—the windlass is horizontal, and there is a hitch on each side, and round that the rope was tied and round the man's body and under his arms, and one of the crew was throwing water on him—he seemed to be insensible, and the captain told me to cast him adrift, which I did, and he slid down on the deck as I was slacking away the rope, and appeared senseless—he was alive—I left him on the deck, and as I left the captain said he thought the man had had opium—I said it would be well to leave. him alone for a couple of hours, and if he had any he would be all right after he had had a good sleep—I went about my work, and about an hour after, as I was working at the fore rigging, a man said that he was dead—he was lying at the end of a spar—I went and looked at him, and found he was dead, and stretched him along the spar—that was between 2 and 3 o'clock in the afternoon—the captain was told the man was dead, and he told the second mate and me to carry him aft into the cabin—we did so, and stripped him, and rubbed his arms and legs to see if there was any life in him; but there was not, and we were told to take him on deck again—we did so, and the captain told some of the crew to comer and look at him—several of them did so, and he was then sewn up in canvas, and buried—when I rubbed him I noticed his left arm was swollen from the wrist to the shoulder, and the skin was up like a bladder; there was water underneath the blisters on his arm—his ears were rotten; they had been swollen for some time, and had burst open, and out of the wounds was discharging matter and blood—the crown of his head was completely rotten; it was a mass of matter; you could see a few ragged edges of skin—he had a wound under one of his eyes, which he had had for some time, and which had never healed from the time he first got it till he died, and at the time of his death it was discharging a little matter—I did not notice anything elsenext day I said to the captain "I don't half like the way that man died"—he made no answer—I kept the log, and made an entry in it of the death of this man—this is it (produced)—he died on Friday, June 5th, 1874—I made that entry on the day he died, and the captain saw it—this is it: "4 p.m., Abdoolah, a Lascar, died suddenly, his ears being festered for six weeks, and several other places about his head; mortification set in"—that was my opinion at the time—ten days before we got to Cork, the captain said that he would make an extract of the log he was keeping, and state the way that he and some more of the men died, and have them all sign it, in case there was any difficulty after he arrived in England, and that being a black crew he thought it was necessary to have it done—this paper (produced) was written and read out to the men—I was in the cabin at the time—the men were not all there, there were only two men and the captain and me, one used to interpret what the captain said to the other men—I mean that they came in one at a time and Khalee Khan was interpreter—the captain read what was on the paper and Khalee Khan put his name to it and if he could
not write the other man put his name to it, or he made his mark—I have seen four of them sign it to my recollection, it is in the prisoner's writing; besides signing that I signed the official Jog about six weeks before we got home—I signed all that was to be signed; that was some time after 5th June. (Read: Extract of official log of ship Emily Augusta, lat. 29-30 south, long. 40° 40' east. "At this time Sheik Abdoolah, Lascar, died from a disease bearing a close resemblance to that described by medical authority as erysipelas. He had never complained of sickness, and was at the wheel at 4 a.m. of the day of his death, and as usual eat his meals heartily. I had remarked his ears being sore looking and much swelled on his first arrival on board and had sent to the butler, who understands English well, to ask what was the matter with them; some time afterwards they seemed to get worse, and he said he did not know they were sore and it had come of itself. I cut one of them with a lance once, but nothing but black blood come out of it and in a few days it closed up as before. Though he never complained of sickness, I had compelled him to take opening medicine daily for about a week previous to this date, as any little sore he got never seemed to heal, but it was not until examining his body after death that we found the whole of the crown of his head was affected in a similar manner to his ears, the whole surface being apparently quite rotten and was spreading over his limbs and other parts of his body likewise. He was an inveterate opium eater and was caught several times under its influence, we supposed asleep on his feet, and at work asleep at the wheel once. The skin harassed from his face under the eye by the spoke of the wheel knocking against it two months before his death, and that small mark never healed up. He was an inveterate opium eater, and from the evidence of his shipmates his stock was just lately exhausted, which, while its use deadened his feelings of pain, must have fearfully aggravated his disease. He appeared to be under the influence of opium at bis death, for from noon, when called out of bed, he appeared just like a drunken man, sleepy and stupid, and lay down on a spar by the fore rigging, falling into a deep sleep, from which he never awoke, dying without a word, sign, or struggle, though nearly all the ship's company were working near him, setting up rigging at the time.—H. Walters, master; R. Shurtz, first mate; William Cooke, second ditto. The above has been entered in the official log book, and signed as customary, but being surrounded by a crew of Lascars, all of one nation and language, and manners different to my own, and holding the prejudices naturally arising from such, I had deemed it advisable and prudent that a kind of inquest should be held, examining the crew as to their knowledge of his sickness and the cause of his death, that each one may subscribe to his own evidence at once in the presence of one of their own class, who speaks English well, and acts as interpreter, and my officers who act as witnesses. The following men were questioned, and replied as follows': Abdool Rahoman—'I first met Sheik Abdoolah on board a steamboat coming from Calcutta to Akyab. I noticed his ears bad; one swelled up much when he first came on board the ship Emily Augusta. He never told me he was sick. I saw him eat his meals every day, and always about the same quantity, until he died. I saw him after his death; his head was all rotten, and ears had little maggots in them. His head was always covered up before he died, and I did not notice it so before.' Ameboodee (Lascar)—' I first saw Sheik Abdoolah on the passage at Akyab, and noticed his ear swelled up on board the steamboat. I asked him on board the boat what was the matter with his ears; he said
I don't know, I have pain in them, I can't tell what is the matter." On board he afterwards told me he was in Calcutta for two months before he came here, and had been treated with medicine by the doctor without any good effect, and he did not think he would ever get better. I saw him after death, and noticed the crown of his head and ears were all rotten. I did not notice the top of his head before, he always had it covered. I have heard the account of his death read over, and I think it right—Ameroody. AMEER KHAN (Lascar)—' I have heard the account of Abdoolah's death in the log book read over, and consider it quite correct I first saw Abdoolah on the steamboat coming to Akyab. I noticed one of his ears swelled up then, but did not speak to him. I spoke to him once about his ears on board the ship, but he gave no answer. I saw a mark on his face, which he said he got by nodding asleep at the wheel; the wheel turned round and struck him in the face. It was about six weeks before he died; it never got any better. I saw it when he was dead. I noticed his head; the crown of it was all rotten. I saw his ears before, but did not know his head was that way before his death; his head when he was alive was always covered up when I saw him. 'ABDUL TINDAL:—'I first saw Sheik Abdoolah in the steamboat coming to Akyab. I noticed on board the steamboat his ear sore and swelled; on board the ship it got worse, and then the other one swelled up also. I asked him what was the matter with him, and he always said he did not know, it came of itself. I saw him when he was dead and his head on the top was rotten all over. I did not know it before; he never complained to me, and always had his head covered up when I saw him. I saw him when called out of bed after dinner (one o'clock); he was like a drunken man, first lay down on deck and would not get up, afterwards saw him get up and go to the spar and lie down and thought he had fallen asleep. I was working near him at the riggingall the time until we found him dead.—TINDAL' KHALLEE KHAN (Lascar).—'I did not know Sheik Abdoolah before I saw him in the steam-boat. I noticed one of his ears was swelled and sore, but did not speak to him until he came on board the ship; he then said he had been with sickness some time ashore and had used a lot of medicine, but could not get better, he had some black stuff he brought with him which he used to apply to his ears until it was used up and they got worse. I saw him eat his meals every day; he had breakfast the day he died. He gradually got his ears larger, and marks about his skin never healed up. I saw him when he was called at 1 o'clock, he had been below from 8 o'clock; when he came on deck he was like a drunken man staggering, and then lay down on deck and would not get up when spoken to. I saw him afterwards get up and go to the spar and lie down himself. I thought he had gone to sleep. Afterwards I found he did not move, and found him dead after an hour had passed. I saw his body after death; his head on the top was all rotten and maggots in his ear. I did not know his head was that way before, he always had his head covered up when I saw him. I lived in the same side of the forecastle as he did. I have heard all the evidence of the former witnesses, and have faithfully interpreted their answers in English. 'DERRAN ALLER.' I first met Sheik Abdoolah on board the steamboat which was going to this ship at Akyab. I first noticed his ears swelled and sore on board the steamboat, and after he got here his both ears got worse all the time. I asked what was the matter with them; he said he did not know, he had been that way with sore ears a good while. I saw
him the day he died. When he was called after dinner, he came out of bed on deck; he was like a drunken man staggering about, and took no notice of what was said to him. He lay down on deck, and would not get up. We were setting up rigging, and he was in the way; after he got up himself, and lay down on a spar, and I thought he went to sleep. He was a great opium-eater, and took mine, and was buying all he could get from everyone. I saw him when he was dead, and saw the crown of his head was all rotten, and his leg and arm was getting bad. I never saw his head like that before, for it was always covered up with a cloth, and I did not hear him complain of it. I have heard the account of his death in the log-book read, and believe it to be quite true. DEBRAN ALIER (No. 2)—' I knew Sheik Abdoolah; I first saw him signing articles. I noticed his ear swelled and sore on board the steamboat. I asked him there what was the matter with them, and he said he did not know; he had had much pain in them for some time, about a fortnight, he said. After he got aboard this ship 1 noticed his two ears both get larger and worse every day. I saw the captain take him from the wheel below in the cabin once to cut his ear; he came back again to the wheel with something on his ear, or a white cloth, which the captain had given to him. When his opium was finished he complained of being sick, and after that he got more from the other men in the forecastle, and then he was satisfied. I was in the mizen rigging at work when the captain dressed his ear. I saw him when he was dead, but was in the rigging before that, when he was called out of the forecastle. I saw his head and ears was all rotten. I did not see his head like that before, as he always had it covered up with a cloth, and he never told me about it. I have heard the account of his death in the official log read and explained to me, and it is correct' MAHOMED (Lascar)—'I first saw Sheik Abdoolah when signing articles. I noticed his ear sore and swelled when we first joined the ship. I asked him what was the matter with them, and he said he did not know, he had pain in them, and had them that way ashore for a good while a number of days, and they did not get better, but worse. I saw them getting worse every day I saw him "when he was dead; the crown of his head was all rotten, and his ears the same. I did not know of it before; he always had his head covered with a cloth when I saw him on deck or below. 'I have heard the account of his death written in this paper, and I believe it is quite correct.' CUDIR (Lascar)—'I knew Sheik Abdoolah about a month ashore before he joined his ship. I noticed his ears sure and swelled for about three weeks before he joined this ship, and asked what was the matter with them; he said he did not know, he had been to a doctor and bought medicine, but the pain in them was only getting worse. I know he eat a deal of opium, and his ears got worse every day on board. I saw his head about three weeks before he died, and it was swelled, like a soft lump on the crown, and afterwards broke, and rotten when he died. When signing articles, he said to me I am going to sea, but I do not think I will live. I have heard the account of his death read over and explained to me, and I believe it to be true.' 'We, the undersigned, have been present at the several depositions, and heard all the questions and answers in English and Hindostanee, witnessed the signatures of all the deponents, and the above is a faithful transcription of all the proceedings.—H. Walters, master; R. Shurtz, mate; William Cooke, second ditto;—Tindal (Lascar).' "Witness continued—This is the captain's official log; this entry of 5th June is in his writing. I did not read it over
before I signed it; the captain read it to me (This contained the extract from the official log, before read). I never saw the deceased taking opium, but I was told that he did so. I was taken in custody about this matter taken before the Magistrate, from time to time, and was afterwards called as a witness.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. The deceased always wore a turban or a cloth round his head—I never saw him without it for any length of time—I never noticed his head bare—I did not notice that his ears were bad till about fourteen days after he was sent to the wheel—he was sent to the wheel about three weeks after we left—the upper part of both ears. swelled first, not the lobes—he said that they were hurting, him—he was not a confirmed opium eater to my knowledge, but I was told that he used it—I heard some one say that the crew had opium—I cannot tell whether the deceased was under the influence of opium on the day of his death, but I thought he might have had some—the men were called in and requested to make a statement—the captain said something to the interpreter, who said it to the men—I cannot tell now after so many months what the captain desired him to say to them—he did not tell the interpreter to ask each man as he came forward to give his account of the death of Abdoolah, they were asked whether they had known Abdoolah before and whether they had seen him before—I can remember that, and that they were asked further whether they had seen his ears sore while on board the steamboat—those are the only questions I recollect—the answers were put down—I not see the deceased get a blow on the eye from the wheel, but it was spoken of in the ship—it inflicted an injury which did not heal—that was supposed, to be the cut and I saw the marks under his eye—it was not festered, but there was a discharge from it; I never went near enough to examine it with any minuteness—he was filthily dirty in his person, there were constant complaints about his dirt, because his ears were discharging and running all over his garments and ha always used to be in a mess—I do not know whether he had had opium or not, but I have seen him asleep at the wheel—there used to be three at a time taking the wheel—the boy Pyke could steer and so could Cassbar one of the secunnies—we had taken steersmen on board and it turned out that one was an old man who could not do anything, and the other knew nothing about it—Abdoolah did not know much about it, but he could just manage, and after he had been there a couple of weeks he got better—I joined at Akyab, but I heard that the ship had come from Bahia—I only know what I have heard, that they were discharging cargo at Akyab—I had never sailed with Lascars before—there was a Serang on board to govern them—I complained at the latter part of the Scrang having no control over them, but the first week or two we done very well, while it was fine weather; after that we got on very badly—Tindal, one of the Lascars, assaulted the Sevang—we got wet and squally weather after leaving the Mauritius and then the men began to feel the influence of the climate and the cold—I had a great deal of trouble sometimes to get them along, I could always get them along somehow, sometimes by words, and sometimes I used to take a reef point and help them along—that is what you call a rope's end—I found that that assisted their movements, I could always get them along then—I found that I could not get them along without; it was an absolute necessity, I could not do without it, or else I would not have used it—I did not use a capstan bar and strike a man on the head with it, or a belaying pin—I have been accused of doing so by one of the Lascars, it is entirely a
falsehood; I never raised a belaying pin or a capstan bar to anyone on board the ship or struck a man on the belly—I know one of the Lascars said so, and I have made it a point to question the other witnesses whether they ever saw me do it and they deny it—I do not know whether the captain's arm was broken when Sheik Abdoolah died, but it was bandaged up and he said it was bad—I cannot recollect whether it was the right arm or in what way it was injured—I went down to the prisoner's wife with the second mate and remember his saying something but I cannot recollect what it was—I was charged originally, and was in the dock with the captain four or five times at the Police Court.
Re-examined. It was Fugeer Ali who used a capstan bar, the man who died over here—his dying statement was read over to me at his bedside—the captain sat in the cabin, writing down the men's statements at the time I speak of.
By THE COURET. The deceased used to holloa when he was struck, and on one occasion he was going to get into the water; he was going overboard—that was after he had been some time at the wheel—when he was struck he said he would jump overboard, he would not stop—the blood ran down when he was struck on his head; he always had a turban, but the blood came from under it.
By THE JURY. There are no other persons here who saw the blood; there was only him and me on the poop at the time, and the captain, but other persons may have seen the blood for what I know.
WILLIAM COOK . I was second mate of the Emily Augusta, I joined at Bahia—the prisoner was the captain—we had what is termed a scratch crew, and at Akyab we got a fresh crew of Lascars, and there the chief mate joined—Sheik Abdoolah was an officer among the men, a secunnie or quarter-master; he looked in good health when he came on board—I remember his being put to the wheel, but do not recollect the date—I noticed nothing the matter with him till he was about a week at the wheel; I then saw the master strike him with the rope's end, also with a piece of leather, and sometimes with a wooden belaying pin on the arms and legs, and sometimes on his backside—Abdoolah used to holloa sometimes when he was struck—he would sing out in his own language "Babool" I think it was, which means "Father," I think—I did not notice his left arm when he was alive—the captain's striking him was kept up daily as long as he lived; it was perhaps once a day with the belaying pin, and perhaps a little oftener, because I was not so much with him as they were—a week or nine days before he died I noticed that he commenced to get weak, and he could not do his work at the wheel—I noticed one of his arms a week before he died; he could not lift it and could not use it on the wheel—it was the left arm, if I remember well—his left ear was swollen very large; I first noticed that about a month after he went to the wheel he was put to the wheel between half a month and eleven days after we left Akyab—the day before he died he was weak, he could hardly walk; I do not remember seeing anything done to him that day—the first time I saw him on 5th June, the day he died, he was lying on the deck forward about 1 o'clock, or a little after—I was sitting on the port side, putting a piece into the main deck, and heard Captain Walters ask the mate where that man was; and I think the mate said that he was below—Captain Walters said "Well, get him out"—I think the mate got him out, or the captain, I don't know which; but I saw him on the deck, and heard Captain
Walters tell the mate to make him go and work at the mat which he was making—he said that he could not work at it, he had only one hand—I disremember whether the captain said anything to that, but I afterwards heard the noise of the man falling on deck—I could not tell what caused him to fall, but I heard the master call to him to get up, and he would not, and the master called him some names (one name was the "son of a b——"), and called me and said "Lift this man up, and lash him up to that windlass a bit"—I think the man was in a dying condition then—I lifted him up and stood him on his legs, and passed one turn round him of a rope's end—I fastened him up in that way, and then the master called some one to get some water and wake him up—I do not know what water they got; I walked away, and pretended not to hear the order for the water—I saw the man again after dinner when I came on deck; he was lying across a spar on the deck—he had been unlashed—I don't know whether he was alive—that was about sixteen minutes after I went away—I saw some men looking very anxiously towards where he was lying, and I got up and looked at him, and saw that he was dead—"that might be five or six minutes after I saw him lying on the spar—I went and told Captain Walters that the man was dead, and he ordered me and the chief mate to fetch him aft; we took his clothes off and rubbed him in the cabin, and his left arm was as big as my leg all over; the arm and one of his thighs was bruised considerably—there were five or six cuts in his head, one of them an inch long, and some of them longer—his ears were completely rotten—her was afterwards sewn up and buried—I signed this statement about a week before we arrived off Ireland—Captain Walters said to me "This is the account of the wages belonging to the men who were lost," and I signed it; it was not read over to me, and I did not read it—I also signed the official log, with the account of Sheik Abdoolah's death—that was about a week before we got. to Ireland—I did not read it before I signed it, nor was it read to me—I know nothing of my own knowledge of Sheik Abdoolah taking opium, but 1 heard of it—I never saw the captain give him medicine.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. This is the document to which I attached my signature—it was on a separate sheet of paper at the time it was presented to me, and it was open, and the whole sheet was written upon—it is in the state now in which it was when I put my name to it—I mean to tell the Jury that I really believed it was an account of the deceased men's wages, because Captain Walters told me so, and I cannot read; I can" write my name, and that is all—I swear that I cannot read writing—I did not ask to have it read to me.
Q. Why should you have to sign the account of the deceased men's Wages? A. I put my name to this to keep down notice—it was not becsuse I belived it was an account of the deceased men's wages—I did not mis-believe the captain, and I did not believe him—I did ne'er a one—he has often threatened to break my head, but he never did—I mean that I signed because I was afraid of his breaking my head—I say that on my solemn oath—that is what I mean by keeping down noise—I did not misbelieve him that it was an account of the seamen's wages, but that was not the reason that I signed it—I put my name to it to keep a row from rising—that was the only reason—if I had not put my name to it there would be a row, and something might happen—my head might be broken—I have been equally careful in other matters which I have sworn—it is true that there were cuts
on this man's head—that is as true as that I was afraid of my head being broken—I did not say where the cuts came from—I did not say to the captain "This man is not able to do any work"—I am not an Englishman, but I am an Irishman, and that is all the same—when I thought that the man was in a dying state, I went quietly down and took my dinner, without saying a word to the captain about it—I was not chief mate of the ship—the mate went to the deceased before I did—I saw him there—he did not say that the man was in a dying state.
COURT. Q. Was the captain there also? A. Yes; and if the master don't think he is in a dying state, there is no reason why I should speak about it; but, in my opinion, the man was in a dying state.
MR. SERJEANT BALLAKTINE. Q. Had he a turban on? A. Yes—I took it off—he had thick hair, and a good deal of it—his whole head was covered with sores—you could take hold of the hair, and take the whole scalp off; it was all rotten; but I don't say that we done, it—the men were all round when I saw the cuts on his head—there were about eight of them, but I cannot name any of them except me and the mate—the mate saw the cuts—I never knew the other men by name—this rottenness was all over the entire scalp of the head, but not from his ears.
WILLIAM MATTISON . I am seventeen years old—I was on board the Emily Augusta—I shipped at Bahia—Abdoolah appeared to be healthy when he came on board-after we left Akyab, he was put to the wheel, and after that I saw the captain beat him with a rope's end, and a piece of leather—I saw that done nearly every day for about a month—it was a long piece of leather off one of the sails—he struck him anywhere, about the body, arms, and legs—I first noticed that one of his ears was swelled two or three weeks before he died—I saw him the day that he died—I think he left the wheel about 8 o'clock that morning, and after he left the wheel I heard the captain shouting to him—I don't know what he was doing—I saw Sheik Abdoolah when he was dead—I first saw him lying forward on a spar, and I afterward saw him lying aft—I looked at him—I saw a cut on his head like a triangle, about an inch each way—one of his ears was swollen,' and there was a hole in his nose.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. The triangular cut was on the top of his head; he had much hair, but I was able to see it clearly, because his hair was off at the cut—I don't know if it was sore; it looked sore—I could see the sore and the scab on it—it was the mark of what had been a cut—it did not look fresh, but like an old cut—that was the only cut I noticed on his head—it looked well, but I never touched him.
WILLIAM PYKE . I am sixteen years old—I was on board the Emily Augusta—I joined at Liverpool—Captain Walters was the captain—we sailed to Bahia and afterwards to Akyab, where the Lascars came on board—Sheik Abdoolah looked all right and seemed well enough when he came on board—I remember his being put to the wheel to steer, and after that I saw the captain strike him several times with a piece of leather, and once with a belaying pin on the back—he struck him with the belaying pin all over—I have seen him strike him a good many times with the leather—he seemed weak and feeble before he died—I saw him when he was dead—there were three or four big cuts on the top of his head, and his ears were swelled up and full of dirt and matter—I first noticed his ears a month or so before he died, and when he was dead I noticed that his arm was swelled up to the shoulder and was black—there was one cut on his face by his nose
or under bis eye—he often told me that he ate opium, but I never saw him—he spoke about it before he died; he said that he had had no opium for three days, and he felt sick.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I have been at sea eighteent months—this was my first voyage—I went on board at Liverpool, and went out with the ship to Bahia, and then sailed with her till we took in the Lascar sailors—I had plenty of work to do; they kept me hard at work because there was nobody else—Sheik Abdoolah could steer, but sometimes he did not steer right—I have seen him asleep at the wheel three or four times when I was on the poop, and have had to take his turn when he could not or would not work—he was not always falling asleep, but when there was nobody around he used to be asleep; if he was left alone for three or four minutes he always went fast asleep—three days before his death he told me that his opium was finished, and his belly was sick—we had the worst weather off the Cape—the captain gave the men medicine from time to time—he gave me medicine once when I wanted it—if the crew wanted it they used to come up in the morning and get it—it was some stuff he used to mix—Fugeer Ali also had his ears swelled up in the same way, and so had a man named Oozman—I did not see the captain lance the men's ears—I have got a touch of the rope's end.
Re-examined. I have seen the captain strike the other Lascars who had bad ears—Fugeer Ali has since died—Oozman is outside as a witness.
KHALLEE KHAN . I was third tindal on board the Emily Augusta—I joined at Calcutta with a number of other Lascars—I knew Sheik Abdoolah when he came on board—I saw him a short time living in Calcutta—his health was all right when he joined the Emily Augusta—I went in the steamer with him from Calcutta to Akyab, and saw nothing the matter with him—I remember his being put to the wheel to act as secunnie—I did not see what the captain did to him, but I saw him with a broken hand, and. nose, and head—I saw the captain hit him that time what day he did die—he left the wheel at 8 o'clock and went to sleep in his bunk, and he came forward and got his breakfast, and he had finished his breakfast and went to sleep in his bunk, and afterwards the captain came and said—"Where is Abdoolah?"—somebody told him he was in his bunk, and he pulled it out on to the floor, and kicked his backside and kicked him out, he fell with his head on the floor, and the captain said "Go and finish your mat" Abdoolah said "My hand is broke, sir, my one hand, sir, I cannot finish my mat"—the captain said "Go and finish your mat"—he said "I can't, master," and the captain hit him five or six rope's ends—after that he fell down again, and then the captain said "Go and finish your mat"—again he said "My one hand broke, I can't, sir"—the captain then told the second mate to go and make fast that man, and he made fast the man to the forecastle with both hands to the belaying pin—that is close to the windlass—he was made fast with a belaying pin; that kept him fast—the captain then struck him four or five ropes on his head, and neck, and backside, and his head fell on one side—the captain took one rope when he was tied up and he hit him four or five ropes—I saw his head fall on one side, and the captain told one man to get two or three buckets of water to throw over him—they threw the salt water over his body; he did not stir his head, and the captain told them to unbind that man—the second mate, I think, untied him, and he then fell on the deck, and the captain kicked him and said "Get up, get up, "but he could not get up that time, and he kicked his backside
and then he went aft, and in one or two minutes Abdoolah sat down on bus backside close to a spar drawing himself along, crawling as far as from here to that table, and when he got to the spar he laid down like that to die—after that I was working in the fore rigging, and what time he die I see him, and I said to the chief mate "Go and see," and he looked himself, and he saw he was die—the captain told the mate to carry him away, but I do not know what they did, and after that they fetched him on deck again close to the fore brace, and he had a broken head in three or four places, and bus nose also—the captain said "You see that;" I said "Yes, that is all I see, sir"—Before we got to Cork I went into the captain's cabin, and he said "Khallee Khan make him understand, that man"—he said "What I write on the paper make him understand, that man"—the men came in one by one, and he told me to make them understand "what he read—he read one book, a log book, and I make him understand, and when I did not understand I said nothing—I spoke Hindostanee to him—I did not under-stand all the captain said, but what I understood I spoke to that man, and what I did not understand I said nothing—seven or eight men came up altogether, not together, but one after one—I did not sign the paper myself, but the Burra Tindal signed for me—the same thing took place with each of the seven or eight men who were called in; the captain spoke to them, and I spoke to them in Hindostanee—when we got close to Cork the captain said to me "We are going to London, do not go to a Magistrate, and I will give you fifty-eight rupees"—a rupee is about 2s.—that was before the men were called in—Abdoolah had one shirt with blood, and I kept it in my chest with Mahomed the Serang's shirt—I went ashore, and when I came back I could not find it—I don't know when the captain opened the chest.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I have been at the Strangers'. Home—Abdul, the man who was called as a witness yesterday, was there too—nineteen Lascars, I think, have been at the Home. Mahomed is my uncle—he is the man who got the crew together at Calcutta—I do not know that my uncle was struck on the voyage by one of the Lascars—I knew Sheik Abdoolah about two years before in Calcutta—I do not know that he was in the habit of taking a great deal of medicine—it is correct that I saw that bus ears were rotten about twenty-five days before his death—it was about six weeks after the ship left Akyab that the captain put Sheik Abdoolah to the wheel—I recollect O'-Niel, he was not a Lascar, he shipped as a secunnie—I do not know that he was turned away from the wheel—I saw Abdoolah eat opium before we left Calcutta, but not on board the ship—I said when he came in the boat I saw him—he actually bought opium of me—I do not eat it, but I had it to sell to the others—he owed me twenty-eight rupees at the tune of his death, and the captain told me that I should have them, and fifty-eight rupees the captain would give me, and then he would write another paper—I was to get the twenty-eight rupees besides the fifty-eight—what the captain said was that he would give me "a 5l. note" if I did not go before the Magistrate, that is fifty rupees, but I figured it at fifty-eight rupees—it was that I should not go before the Magistrate, not that the other men should not go—I sometimes hit the Lascar with a rope's end on his back side, when he made me a boatswain—I made him work; and sometimes, to make him work quick, I hit him—I did not see the captain's left arm strapped to his side on the day that Abdoolah died; but Abdoolah's arm was swelled—I don't know anything about the captain's arm—I said
that Abdoolaha's arm was bad—when I saw the captain with the book in the cabin it lasted more than one day—it was a thin book that he had; a little blue paper in a book—I was in the cabin the whole time—it was at 2 or 3 o'clock in the afternoon he called me aft and one man, and he was reading and writing—I was there when Abdul was in the cabin, the Burra tindal, and he signed the name for me—I cannot write—the captain said something to me to tell it to the men, and the men answered—he tell me, and I answer in Hindostanee.
Re-examined. I was in the cabin when Abdul signed the names.
By A JUROR. The shirt was full of blood, it was all round here, more on the shoulder—the captain overhauled everybody's chest.
By THE COURET. I remember Abdul being brought into the cabin—the captain told me to ask him questions and I asked him when he first knew or met Sheik Abdoolah—the captain spoke to him and what the captain said everybody said "Yes "to, he could not say "No," or he would kill him—I put the questions which the captain told me—I did not see Abdoolah's ears when he-was coming in the steamboat—I cannot remember that in the captain's cabin Abdul said that he saw in the steamboat that the man's ears were bad.
JURY. Q. Did the captain put the question to you and did you say "Yes" to the captain—A. I don't know, I told the captain what the men said exactly—he did not wait to put it down, he had already written it before he called me down in the cabin, and then I saw Abdul standing there—the captain read out of the book that the man had bad ears when he left Calcutta, and then the men said." Yes"—the men simply assented to what the captain said—the blood came on the shirt from broke head—I never saw the captain hit him with the belaying pin; all the time I was working forwards while he was at the wheel.
ABDUL (interpreted). I was Burra tindal on board the Emily Augusta—I went from Calcutta to Akyab and joined the vessel there—I knew Sheik Abdoolah when he came with me in the ship—he was well when he joined—they gave him work at the wheel—once I saw his nose broken and another time I saw his head broken—I did not see that done—I did not see anything myself before the day of his death; that day he went on watch at 4 o'clock, and on coming off watch at 8 o'clock he had his breakfast and went to sleep, after which about 9 or 9.30, the captain came forward and said "Where is Abdoolah"—answer was made to the captain that he was in his berth, whereupon the captain went and pulled him out and kicked him several times; he brought him to the foremast and then said to him."Make these mats"—he replied "My arm is broken or injured, how can I make mats?"—then the captain took the end of the top gallant sheet, which is a, rope, and beat him several times over the back—then he struck him several times on the head with a belaying pin and he fell down—I was there and saw it—he then ordered the second mate to tie him up to the windlass bit with the belaying pin that was there for the jib sheet; the rope was passed round him and fastened to this belaying pin; then the second mate went away and the captain came and beat him with the end of the jib sheet while he was tied up; he beat him on his back—then his head fell on one side, and he called the to pas, that is, the man of the crew that does the dirty work, and ordered the to pas to get some salt water, and they poured three or four buckets of water over his head—then the captain ordered him to be untied—I am not quite sure whether it was the first or the second mate that untied him—when he
was let go he sank down; the captain beat him to make him get up, but he was not able—then he laid down and he kicked him or brought him as far as a spar that was lying there and he lay down at full length on the spar—then the captain went aft—Khallee Khan was the first man who thought he was dead—he said "Holloa, that man is dead," and then they saw he was dead—they told the second mate and he went aft and told the captain—it was about ten minutes after the captain went aft that Khallee Khan said he was dead—I have seen Abdoolah come forward at the wheel and show all the people his head bleeding and blood all over his clothes—I remember going into the captain's cabin before we got to Cork, the captain was on the poop; and he said "I want you to sign a paper"—I said "Why should I sign a paper"—then the captain took a belaying pin and said "What! You won't sign," and he hit me over the head and made the blood run out—then he said "Go forward and clean yourself and come into the cabin," and I went into the cabin, and he ordered me to sign a paper—I said "What paper am I to sign, how can I sign a paper that I don't know"—the captain held a pistol to me and said "If you don't sign I will make you sign," and I signed in fear of my life—I signed at the same time several other men's names, three or four I think, besides my own (looking at the paper), as many as there are on this paper, those are all my writing—this "Abdul Tindal" is my signature, that is the deposition before Khallee Khan's—I know nothing about what is written here, all I was told was to sign the paper, I know nothing about it except that I signed it. (It was read over to the witness). I never said anything of that kind—I know nothing about the contents of this paper, it was not even read over to me, but I signed in fear of my life.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE, All the men were working near when the captain struck me on the poop—Dewan Ali saw it, he is here; both of the Alis saw it—I was alone with the captain in the cabin when he produced the pistol—I have been for a long time tindal and. serang of ships—the last ship I was in was either the Decca or the Oriental steamer of Mackenzie & Co.—in the cabin the captain held the pistol, and said "If you don't sign I will make you sign," or "I will sign you," or something to that effect; "I will kill you," "if you do not sign I will sign you; I will kill you."
(The learned Counsel then put direct to the witness, without the aid of an interpreter, the following question: "Can you understand me; supposing I was to say 'I shall shoot you with a pistol,' would you understand me?" The witness made no reply.)
Re-examined. He took the pistol out of his pocket and presented it at me—he addressed me in Hindostanee.
OOZMAN (interpreted). I was secunnie on board this ship—I have been a secunnie eight years—Sheik Abdoolah was a sailor on board—his health was good when he came on board at Akyab—afterwards he was made secunnie—I don't recollect how long that was after we had left Akyab—he was well when he was made secunnie—he was well at first, but be got sick through being beaten by the captain—I saw the captain beat him—he struck him on the head, ear, arm, nose, and other places; he struck him with his fist, or with a belaying pin, and bis nose was broken like mine—the captain did that to me—his nose was broken with his fist—I remember the day before Abdoolah died; he was at the wheel that evening from 6 till 8 o'clock—I went to the wheel after him—the captain was there at the
time I relieved him; he took hold of Abdoolah by one arm with both his hands in that way (describing), and flung him away on one side, and he fell over a piece of wood they make things fast to, a projecting piece of wood on the deck—the fall made a boom, a hollow noise, and he became senseless; he fell on his head—the captain then struck him with a belt, and kicked him also—he struck him as he lay, over the body, with the belt, and the brass fastening of the belt was broken—Abdoolah was lying senseless—the captain said "Get up, you son of a bitch," and he kicked him to make him get up; but he did not get up for fifteen or twenty minutes—when he struck his head as he fell, the blood went up, but I did not see any blood, or anything from the beating.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. The captain used to speak to us in English—I know very little English; enough for just the orders of the ship—the captain understands Hindostanse very little, he did speak Hindostanee to the men: he could give orders such as "Come here," "Go there," "Pull in that brace," just ship's orders.
PETER BROWN . I was cook on board the Emily Augusta—I joined at Calcutta—I went in the steamer from Calcutta to Akyab—I knew Sheik Abdoolah—I had known him about two months before I went from Calcutta—he was a goodish, strong man—I went in the steamer with him to Akyab—I remember his being put to the wheel to steer—the first day the captain told him to go to the wheel, the man said "I can't go to the wheel, sir"—then the captain took, a rope and hit him, and then that man said "I did not sign for secunnie, I signed articles for the tindal"—then that man go to the wheel—the captain had a strong ring on his finger, and he hit him on his face, and he had a mark—the ring cut him, and the blood ran—Abdoolah did not say anything—he can't say anything—after that the captain told him to wash the blood off—the blood ran all over—this was about two months before his death—I remember the day he died—I saw him that day—he was in the galley—he made a noise—something was the matter with his forehead—the captain took a belaying pin and hit him on the leg, and he fell down—then the captain told him to get up—he could not get up, and the captain sung out for the second mate, "I say, Mr. Cook, come and look here, this man says he cannot get up, make him fast to the windlass"—the second mate made him fast to the windlass—then the captain threw some water on the top of the man's head—as soon as the second mate could make him fast, they threw the water—the second mate had gone to his dinner at that time—the man's head fell down like this (leaning bad:), and that man threw the water on the top of him—he did that to make him well—after that I do not know what took place—I went to the galley—in two minutes I came round the other side, and I saw the man laying down on the floor—after that, the captain hit him again with the belaying pin in the same place, and said "Get up, you d——son of a bitch"—that was while the man was lying down on the floor—he could not speak anything—he got up—the captain kick him up, and make him sit down on the top of a big bar—he tried to make him sit down—he could not sit down, and he fell down this way (describing)—then the captain go aft after that—after that, I go inside the galley again, to look after my business—and after that, the second mate finish his dinner, I go to the second mute, and say "Look here, that man is dead"—he said "Is he and I said "Yes"—he was dead on the bar—I afterwards saw the captain take him away inside the room—I saw his head—the captain said "Cook, look at that
man's bead"—I look—the captain skid "What do you think of it, cook?—I said "I think it smell bad"—the captain said "I think so"—I said "Yes, sir, can't you see; can't you smell, I can smell rotten or something"—about two hours after Abdoolah was dead, I go inside the galley, and the captain come inside, and say "I say, cook; do you know anything about this?—Sir, I said, "I don't know nothing at all"—after that, the captain said "Well, I told that man make mats, I take a belaying pin, and he fall down die, I don't know what I do, cook."
By THE COURET. He said "I tell that man to make mats, that man he could not make mats, he would not—he say one hand bad, then I take a belaying pin, I hit him in the back side, and he fall down and die, I do not know what I will do"—he said "I will send some dinner for you" and he asked me what I would have for dinner—I said to the captain "I will send some dinner for you" and the captain said he did not want any dinner.
By MR. POLAND I came to London in the vessel to Millwall Docks and in the docks I saw the captain go inside the forecastle, open the man's chest, take out some bloody clothes, and throw them overboard.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTIE. I did hot hear him say anything when he threw them away—I can't tell you what clothes they were, trousers, shirt, I can't tell you anything, all the men were ashore at that time; he told the man to open his chest and he and the shipmate were inside the forecastle, and he took some bloody clothes put them in something and roll them overboard—I stand inside the galley and look—I could not tell you out of what box he took them, I don't know whose box it was, I know. he opened the box—I have been stopping at the Stranger's Home the last three weeks, with the rest of the Lascars, the whole of them; some have left—I have told the same to-day that I told the other day—I am not a Lascar, I am a cook—I come from Madras, they are Bengalese.
CUDIR (interpreted). I joined the Emily Augusta at Calcutta—I did work down below, sometimes I went up to help with the sails—I knew Sheik Abdoolah when I came into the ship—I was passenger in the steamer—I first saw him when he signed in the office with the rest—when I saw him on board he was not at all ill, he was well—I saw in the ship that his ears were bad after the captain had struck him—I saw the captain strike him with his fist on the ear—Sheik Abdoolah did not say to me at the office when he was signing articles "I am going to sea, but I do not think I will live."
ALFRED HANSOM (Police Sergeant K). I produce a paper which I took from the captain's breast pocket on 20th September—it purports to be an extract from the official log of the 'Emily Augusta—he objected to my taking it away, saying that it was necessary for his defence—I took It before the Magistrate, it was produced in evidence and attached to the depositions.
GEORGE YOUNG (Police Inspector K). I have produced here to-day the wooden belaying pin, I took It out of the ship Emily Augusta; she was then lying in the Millwall Docks—I found on board the vessel the ordinary log that has been produced here to-day, the one that is in the mate's writing.
JAMES FARNALL . I have produced the official log of the Emily Augusta, also the English articles and the Lascar articles—in the Lascarafticles Sheik Abdoolah is entered as "Sheik Abdoolah, Lascar"—there are somen men entered as secunnies—"Lascar "means an ordinary sailor—sccunnie is quartermaster—the topas are the men that sweep the deck—there is only one secunie, that is Abdul—all the ses cunnies ought to appear here, the rank of every one
on board the ship is here, and there is only one secunnie. "Abdul, thirty-five years of age"—the secunnie gets higher wages than a Lascar, as a skilled man.
ROBERT SHURTZ (re-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE). I know Abdul, the burra-tindal—I was present when he signed the paper in the captain's cabin, and I saw the other men touch the pen after he signed their names; that was the mode of verifying it—I was not present when Abdul first came into the cabin, when I came in there was Khallee Khan and another man, and Abdul used to sign the names for them—when it was found out that they could not write and sign their names Abdul was called in to sign their names for them—I did not see or hear a word about the pistol; I never heard of it until I got here to this Court.
By MR. POLAND. When I went into the cabin Khallee Khan was there, not Abdul and another, there was only two at the time, and me—I can't say now which was the first man that came in, I was in there with about five of them I was not there with Abdul and the captain alone, when I went in Khallee Khan was there with another man; Abdul was there, the captain, and Khallee Khan, when I first went in, when this affair got on of interpreting and signing names, there was none signed—I saw the first name signed—I have seen the statement here to-day, it is in the captain's writing—the first statement about Abdoolah's death, what is an extract from the official log, I did not see him write, but what the rest of them said I saw him writing that down. By the Court. The statement purports to be the statement of several men and each statement purports to be signed by the person who made it—each statement was signed according as it was made, as the interpreter gave it—what the crew said I could not tell, because I cannot talk the language, but as the interpreter gave the statement the man made it was put down and the signature was put underneath it—if the man could not write the hurra tindal was called to put the man's name there, and the man touched the pen to it—I saw the signatures made—I could not tell whether Abdul was in there alone with the captain, he had plenty of time to be alone with him before I got there, but I could not tell whether he was or not—a reef point is a little cord or rope that hangs down from the sail when it is expanded and which is used for tying the sail when it is reefed—there is a difference in the size of a reef point and a halyard—a reef point is at the most 2 inches and a halyard will be 3 inches; the hal. yard is the larger in circumference, there would be an inch difference, sometimes an inch and a half; a reef point might only be an inch and a half sometimes.
By THE JURY. I did not see the captain strike Abdoolah after he was cast adrift, I went away immediately, I did not see it—when I came back to the fore rigging where the man was I did not notice that he was dead at first, I was told so by Khallee Khan.
GUILTY of Manslaughter— Recommended to mercy by the Jury, considering the very difficult position in which he found himself, with so utterly inefficient a crew and many of his acts of violence being committed under provocation.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
There was another indictment against the prisoner for the wilful murder of Kalu which was not proceeded with.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, November 25th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution; and Mb. Cavanagh the Defence.
JOSEPH BUCK . I am the manager in my father's business, a saw and tool warehouse, on the Holborn Viaduct—on the 20th October I came into the shop and found the prisoner there—he was looking at a sawing bench, and asked me the price of a lathe, and the length—I told him, and a moment after he asked me again "3 feet is it?"—I looked up, and he was looking very suspiciously, and I then found the stocks and dies in his hand—they were in a parcel—they had previously been in a rack on the wall—I sent for a constable—he tried to get away from me, and put his hand in his pocket and dropped a packet of files on the floor—the constable then came and took him into custody.
Cross-examined. I had been in the shop about two minutes when this happened—I caught hold of the prisoner and held him quite fast, and would not let him go—I never held his right hand—I held him by his collar, I suppose, with both hands—I never let go of him—my sister and one or two customers were in the shop—they were 10 yards away, and never took any notice particularly—they were examined at the Police Court—my shop is one of a set of new premises, and we have been there about seven or eight months—it has a 12 feet frontage—it is a tolerably large shop, larger than this room—when I seized the prisoner he was right at the back of the shop, and so was I—it is a retail shop, and has a good stock in trade—I have not had anything stolen from me in that shop before; it was his manner that made me suspect him—he took out of his pocket two dozen files which he had already got in his right hand pocket—I was on his left side "when I held him.
Re-examined. It is a well stocked shop, but not so full that parcels would walk into a man's pocket—I saw him do all that I have said.
By THE JURY. I have got my own marks on the stocks and dies—I went to answer his inquiries as to certain articles—the shop was well lighted—it was about 10 minutes to 5 o'clock, or something of that kind.
HENRY SMITH (Policeman 288). I was called in to Mr. Buck's on the 20th October, when the prisoner was given into my charge—I searched him at the station-house and found upon him a small Church Service (new) and a tape measure, and 1s. 2d. in money—he declined to give his address.
Cross-examined. He had a rug on his arm when I took him.
MR. LILLET conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. Besley the Defence.
CHABLES FREDKRICK BAXTER —I am an accountant having offices at 27, King Street, Cheapside—I am instructed by Mr. Smart to manage an estate in which a public house, the "Shakespeare," in Wheat-sheaf Alley, is included—I hired the prisoner on the 27th June—he commenced his work about the beginning of July—I did not at that time give him instructions as to the management of the house—I had a barmaid then—I subsequently discharged her, and made another hiring with the prisoner as barman and. cellarman, at a salary of 12s. per week, with his board—the bar and cellar were entirely under his management—he had a lad to assist him, but I told him he would be responsible for everything, that he was to be careful in keeping the cellar door locked that led from the bar to the cellar, and
that in consequence of the accounts of the barmaid not being correct, I should have the till made to lock up, and that all the money he received was to be placed in the till, with the exception of what he took for wine and cigars, those being small items, he was to put that by separately, and he would have a sovereign in change, and to purchase any little things that might be requisite for the purposes of the business, and such disbursements he was to enter in a book, and produce vouchers for the same, and the money would be made up to him on the following morning from the money in the till, so that he might always have a sovereign intact each day—he said he could not obtain vouchers for everything, but he did for a great many—he was not to pay for anything, according to instructions, without a receipt—I used to open the till and take the money for the first month—I used to go every morning to the bar, open the till, and take an account of the money, and enter the receipts in the prisoner's book, and deduct from those receipts any expenditure he may have made, and then from the till money make good the amount he had spent, and replace the sovereign—when I discontinued doing this I put a clerk of mine named Howse in my place—on Saturday, the 31st October, I communicated with a detective named Lythel—I did not see him markthe money—on the Tuesday, 3rd November, Lythel called at my office—I went to Bow Lane Police-station to see Lythel—I did not go down to the house with him—the prisoner was usually paid his wages on a Monday morning—during the month I had charge of the bar, I allowed him to pay himself on Sunday out of the sovereign, thinking he might want the money, and made it good on the Monday morning—I gave instructions to Howse.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether only 12s. 5 1/2 d. was found on him including all the marked coins—I did not notice whether he had a surplus beyond the wages paid him—I did say before the Magistate that I had ordered the cellar door to be locked, that there was to be a little book, and the till was to be constructed to lock up and a sovereign's change was to be kept, but that was not taken down—I had given those instructions to the prisoner when he was cellarman—it was part of his engagement that he was always to keep the cellar door locked because cellars are often left open—Mr. Smart is trustee of the estate of Mr. Merioni, and I am acting for Mr. Smart—he is a gas engineer—the prisoner when found with the marked money said he had had to pay for soda and pork pies and biscuits to the amount of 1s. 9d.—he gave that explanation to his solicitor—there is an ice shop in connection with Merioni's, business and Ware was the person in charge of that shop—I did not provide him with any change—if the ice shop wanted change they had to get it from the Shakespeare or from a waiter or send out for it—I never heard that Ware constantly had to ask the prisoner for change because there was not enough change there—I have heard it since—I have not heard that he had to give change to the ice shop out of his own money—on the Tuesday morning in question I had the petty cash book, in which he would have entered the 1s. 9d., at my office—it always went away every week—he used then to write down his memoranda on a piece of paper and give me the following morning—I suppose Mr. Smart will continue the management of the ice shop and public-house till young Merioni comes of age, about three years hence I think it is—I swear that I told the prisoner that vouchers would be required for every payment—I have not sworn that the persons we dealt with were Meredith for biscuits and Watling for pork pies—I was
present at the Police Court and heard James Pope, employed by Messrs. Watling, examined—I did not swear that Watling gave vouchers for everything if only for a penny—I swore this, that Watling had always given vouchers to the girl in the front shop, and if he had given it for 6d. or 1s., which vouchers I can produce, he could have done so with the prisoner if he had looked after it—I cannot say as to Meredith—Watling gave vouchers for everything supplied to the front shop—I know now since I gave my evidence at the Police Court that Watling was not in the habit of giving vouchers at the Shakespeare—at one shop they do and at the other they do not always give vouchers—I have ascertained that the prisoner spent 2d. for soda himself—Scaife, one of the servants, fetched the soda with money given by the prisoner—he did not say it was 3d. made up of soda 2d. and sand 1d.—I did not go to Meredith's people to see the boy who left the biscuits.
Re-examined. I cannot say that the prisoner gave me vouchers of Watling's from time to time—I cannot say they came to my hands from the prisoner—I do not think I have any vouchers for the bar for goods supplied to the Shakespeare—I asked Scaife about the pork pies after I had heard the account the prisoner gave of the 1s. 9d
FRANK HOWSE . I am clerk to Mr. Baxter at the office in King Street, Cheapside—I first had to do with the Shakespeare about the 1st September—I took the money there out of the till—the till was locked—I kept the key—I put the amount of money down on paper—I paid the prisoner his wages—he gave me a statement of the affaire that went on from one week to another—he never claimed any money from me as having been spent out of his own pocket for the establishment—I continued from the 1st September to the 3rd November—I heard Mr. Baxter give the prisoner directions as to paying money, namely, to pay out of the change at the back, a shelf behind the bar—he was not permitted to pay out of his own pocket—I paid his wages on Tuesday, the 3rd November, at about 10 o'clock in the morning—I paid him all in silver—there was no 3d., or 4d. pieces or sixpences—I did not see the till opened on Tuesday by the Detective Lythel—I removed all the money from the till when I settled up with the prisoner—he made no claim against me for money paid out of his own pocket.
Cross-examined. Directions were given to the prisoner to pay for little things out of the change on the shelf, about the time the till was made a locked till, after the barmaid had gone—the money left for change was 20s.—on the Tuesday there was only 2s. left, which was in coppers—I had taken away the small petty cash book the day before, on the Monday.
Re-examined. I was there the morning after he was taken—he had had but 2s. since the 28th October.
By MR. BESLEY. I was not there at the time he was taken into custody—I was there the next morning at about 10 o'clock—meanwhile the shop had been opened.
JAMES WESTROPP . I am managing clerk to Mr. Baxter—I communicated with Detective Lythel on the 3rd November, and I was present when he marked the money, which consisted of eighteen pieces of small silver coin—there was nothing larger or of more value than 6d—I went to the Shakespeare at about 9 o'clock on the evening of the 3rd, in company with Lythel and Gilbert—I called the prisoner out of the bar into the coffee-room, where Lythel and Gilbert were—Lythel asked him to empty his
pockets—the "prisoner turned some money out of his trousers pocket, which he said was all his, his wages—he said that was all the money he—Lythel then asked him to turn out his other pockets, that that was not the money he wanted—the prisoner then turned out his watch-pocket in his waistcoat, and produced three 3d. pieces a ad two 6d. pieces, all marked money, and a shilling not marked—this was part of the money I had seen Lythel mark—the prisoner was then given in charge.
Cross-examined. When the marked coins were found, the prisoner said he had bought some things for the business that morning, and had paid himself back out of those moneys as he had taken them.
Re-examined. That was said on the evening of the 3rd—I cannot remember any other remark that he may have made—he said nothing further than that all the money found on him was his own—I believe Gilbert was there the whole time.
SAMUEL LYTHEL (City Detective.) I received instructions on Tuesday the 3rd November, at about 2.30 in the afternoon, and I then marked some money in the presence of Westropp and another officer named Gilbert—I marked some 3d. pieces, 4d. pieces, and 6d. pieces, eighteen in all, and gave instructions to various persons (amongst others a man named Clarke and a man named Dunn), and they went into the Shakespeare—I had given them some of the marked money—I had distributed the whole of the eighteen pieces—I know that sixteen of the pieces were taken into the house—I saw the persons go in to whom I had given the money—at about 8.45 the same evening I saw the prisoner in the coffee-room—he was called from the bar by Westropp—I saw him in the presence of Westropp and the other officer—I told him I was an officer and suspected him of having stolen some money, and I asked him to turn out the money he had in his pockets—he then took from his trousers' pocket 10s. 3 1/2 d., consisting of bronze and silver—I said "You have some more;" he said "No, I have not;" I said "I know you have; turn it out, or I shah have to search, you"—he then took from the watch-pocket of his waistcoat three 3d. pieces, two 6d. pieces, and one shilling—I looked at the 3d. and 6d. pieces, and at once identified them as being some of the coins I had marked in the afternoon—I told the prisoner so, and he said it was his own money—I conveyed him to the station, and he was charged—the money he turned out of his trousers' pocket consisted principally of penny pieces and florins—there was one half-crown, I think—there was 2s. 3 1/2 d. in bronze, a shilling, two forins, and a half-crown—I produce the marked money (produced)—I did not look at that time on the shelf behind the bar—this took place in the coffee-room—I tried the till afterwards; I found it could be easily opened without the assistance of the key.
Cross-examined. I never saw the till on the Tuesday at all—it was Tuesday I took him into custody, but the question of the till occurred some days previously, before the money was marked—I cannot say as to the the on Tuesday—when the marked coins were produced, he said it was his own money—I don't think anything else was said in the house at the time—on the way to the station he said "I never stole it, I bought some things to-day," I then took him to the station, where the charge was read over, and he said "I bought some things to-day, pork pies and biscuits"—there were nine persons I employed altogether to go in with the marked money, and I saw them go in—I did not see the persons who had the other two" coins go into tho house; they went in that direction—there were eleven
marked coins found in the till, and the five produced make up the sixteen.
Re-examined. I did not look at the back of the bar at all—I believe Wesitrop did.
FREDERICK CLARKE . On Monday, the 2nd November, I was in company with John Dunn and Detective Lythel—Dunn received some coins from Lythel, and I did, on Tuesday night, and went down to the Shakespeare, and spent it—the prisoner served me—he put the money on the shelf be hind the counter—I paid away four 3d. pieces and four 6d. pieces—they were all placed on the shelf.
Cross-examined. They were not marked at that time—I received some money from Mr. Clarke on the Tuesday—I did not receive a halfpenny from Lythel—Mr. Clarke spent the money on Tuesday in my presence.
WILLIAM SCAIFE . I am a general servant at the Shakespeare, Wheat Sheaf Alley—I entered the service on the 3rd June, 1872—I was still servant there on Tuesday, 3rd November, and I was in the house when the prisoner was taken into custody, just putting the shutters up and waiting to turn off the gas—the keys were given me to close the house and to go in the next morning—I put the keys in my pocket and took them home—I opened the house on the following morning at between 8 o'clock and 8.30, the usual time—Frank Howse came a little before 10 o'clock—until he came I attended to the business and served the customers there; I had orders to—I saw some bronze" on the top of a case of stuffed birds—I was asked for a pint of 6d. ale and I took 3d.—I do not know what remained after I took the 3d.—I do not know what was in the till—I laid the money I took on the shelf before Mr. Howse came—I did not know where to put it—I told Mr. Westrop of it and Mr. Howse.
Cross-examined. MR. BAXTER has put questions to me as to whether it was true that the prisoner laid out 3d. on the Tuesday—it was 2d. soda and 1d. bird sand for the parrot—he (Prisoner) gave me 6d. and I went for the change—that would be on Tuesday, I think—I have been there since—I was there for about fifteen days, I think—I have not seen the boy who came with the biscuits lately—he came from Wright's, not Meredith's—I do not know that the boy is ill with rheumatic fever—I have not made inquiry about it—I was not present when the prisoner paid for the biscuits—I was very seldom there.
Re-examined. A boy called from Watling's when I went into the bar—I do not know who called before that—I fetched the soda and sand together.
FRANK HOWSE (re-called). I cleared the till on the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday mornings—I cleared night and morning—about 5 o'clock in the evening—I have my book here—I think 2s. were left on the shelf on Tuesday morning—I do not remember the evening.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JAMES POPE . I was examined at the Police Court when the prisoner was committed for trial, on his behalf—I am in the habit of going round with pork pies for Messrs. Watling—ou Tuesday, 3rd November, I went in due course to the Shakespeare tavern—the prisoner said he wanted two pork pies—I gave them to him and he gave a half-crown and I went on to the Woodin
Shades and supplied them—I had to receive a shilling from the prisoner and I took him back 1s. 6d. change—I have only missed supplying the Shakespeare half a dozen times in the two years I have been engaged—I went three times a week—I have never given the prisoner a receipt.
By MR. LILLET. I called with the pies three times a week—there was a man in the cart with me, but I generally got down to serve—if I was on a different round the young man would either send a young boy down or go in himself—the young man went in once or twice when I was with him, but not often—I have served the pies for two years—I cannot say how long, I have served at the Shakespeare—the pies the prisoner had were always one price—I may have served him forty or fifty times, or more or less—I did not see where the money came from with which he paid me—I laid the change down on the counter and did not see where he put it—the vouchers (produced) are from Watling. and Son—such vouchers are given now at the Shakespeare—these goods (referring to vouchers) were not delivered at the Shakespeare, but at the confectioner's, I expect—"William Morgan "is the signature to the receipt—we had a man in our employ of that name—he has told me he has been driving the cart on that round for the last ten years—I have seen him write receipts, but not those—I never gave a receipt to the prisoner—I said at the Police Court that those vouchers came from the ice shop—I believe I said that I understood receipts were given when the money was paid out of the prisoner's own pocket—I do not exactly remember—the prisoner has asked me for receipts and I told him we did not give bills for rather small amounts.
EDWARD WARE . I am employed by Mr. Baxter at the premises in Wheat Sheaf Alley—part of the premises consist of a beer shop and part an ice shop—I have had to apply to the prisoner for change and he has not been able to give it me from the money behind the bar, and on a Sunday he has given it me out of his own pocket when I have been outside with a stall for ginger beer.
By MR. LILLEY. The coins I asked change for that I remember were a half-sovereign and a half-crown—I do not recollect any other coin—it was not always on a Sunday—I did not say the half-sovereign was on a Sunday—my applications for change were generally made on a Sunday when I was outside with the ginger beer stall—I cannot tell you of any more than those two instances—I cannot tell how long I have been there—it was last summer I believe, when I went into the employment—that is the nearest date I can give—I cannot tell the date that I took the half-sovereign in to be changed there are other shops round there—lam not known by all the people in the neighbourhood.
HARRY TOM BURTON . I am a draper's assistant, and live with my father at Islington—I went into the Shakespeare refreshment shop on the 3rd November—the prisoner was serving—some one came in and tendered a coin and I lent the prisoner id. as he had not enough change—he repaid it to me in coppers—I cannot say whether any other customer came in then—about the same time some one else tendered a half-sovereign and the prisoner applied to me for change but I had not it, so he took all the money from the shelf and the rest from his own pocket—he had to send out to change the half-sovereign immediately afterwards and he put back what he had taken from behind.
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
SUSANNAH CURTIN . I am the wife of Thomas Curtin, a porter, and live at 28, Morgan Street—the prisoner lodged in my house—I had a child named Joseph William Curtin, about two months old—on the 24th October I had just come home with my husband and child and the prisoner was quarrelling with some neighbours and when I came to the door she said "Here is my b——y landlady," and struck me on the head—she struck again and the baby received the blow on the top of his head—I was going into the door and she jammed m? and the baby in the door, and jammed the baby's head in against the door post—I screamed out "Oh, my baby! my baby!" and a neighbour opposite came and took hold of the baby with her left hand and pushed open the door, the prisoner still holding it—my husband followed in the passage and said "You have done it last; you have killed my baby," and she ran upstairs making use of some very bad language—she said nothing about the baby then—the other woman took tie baby into the back parlour and it was stunned for a time—she stayed with me till after 12 o'clock—the next morning I took it to Dr. Ray and he gave me a lotion—it died about 8 o'clock on Friday night, the 30th—the Sunday after the baby died, the 1st November, I was taking my husband's breakfast and came out of the room crying, and the prisoner said "You have got a lot to cry for, you ought to go down on your knees and thank God that I have killed your b——y little bastard"—I made no answer—there is a young man who keeps company with my daughter and it was his mother the prisoner had been quarrelling with—there is no truth in the assertion that that young man kicked the prisoner.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not fall down myself with the baby coming in on Saturday night—I walked straight to the door.
SARAH BRIGGS . I am the wife of Richard Briggs, living at 37, Morgan Street—on the night of the 24th October, about 11 o'clock, I saw the prosecutrix at the door of her house with the baby in her arms—the prisoner was there—she was swearing and calling Mrs. Curtin bad names—she struck Mrs. Curtin and in doing so again the blow caught the baby on the head—the prisoner went inside and shoved the street door and said "Go out you b——y cow"—the child's head was caught between the door—I got hold of the child with my left hand and shoved the door with my right shoulder—I heard Mrs. Curtin say "Oh, my baby! oh, my baby!"—the prisoner kept on swearing—she tried to keep the door shut with the baby there—I got it open.
By THE COURET. I know Robert Evans—I had seen the prisoner before, but had never spoken to her since I lived in the street.
JOHN WILLIAM RAY . I am a surgeon, and live at 118, Commercial Road I saw the body of the deceased child—when it was first taken to me it was suffering from brain symptoms—it had an external mark on the forehead, a dent like the edge of a door—such a mark would be caused by its having been jammed between a door—the child died on Friday—I made a postmortem examination and found a clot of blood on the brain sufficient to cause death—the other organs were healthy—it may have been caused by violence such as has been described.
The Prisoner. MR. RAY knew the child was dying from its birth. Witness. I delivered the woman—it was a delicate baby, but the organs were healthy.
Prisoners Defence. On Saturday night about 11.45 my sister asked me to go and get haif a pint of beer, and the young man who keeps company with Mrs. Curtin's daughter ran out and deliberately kicked me. My sister stood with her hand on the bannisters and said "Never mind, go upstairs." On the Sunday morning after the child died my son, who lives in the New North Road, asked me to dinner, and I went out of the place and stopped there all Sunday, and when I came home again they began abusing me. On Thursday the officer came with a summons in the name of "Turner. "He stopped at the door several minutes and said "That is the woman who is summoned," and I said "You had better take it in." When I got home the following Monday I found a warrant from the Coroner for ill-using the child. That was the first I heard of the child.
ANN DELAMORE , I am a widow, and live at 2.8, Morgan Street, the same house as the prisoner—she is my sister—I was at home all the evening of the 24th October, Saturday—about 9.30 Mr. and Mrs. Curtin went out, and about half an hour afterwards my sister came down in the kitchen to me—she stopped with me about ten minutes—she then went upstairs, and I saw no more of her for some time—I saw her at 11.45—I went up to the street door to buy some candles—she came down to the street door—I asked her to go and get me half a pint of beer—she went, and was not gone five minutes, and when she came through the passage the young man, Robert Evans, in the parlour, courting the young woman, Sarah Curtin, kicked my sister, and kicked all the beer over—my sister cried, and went partly upstairs—I picked up the can and said "Never mind the beer"—I saw no more of my sister that night—I heard Mr. and Mrs. Curtin come home at 12.30—I heard a great many come in—I didn't go up from my kitchen—they were all drunk, and there was a great quarrel, which lasted till 2 o'clock in the morning—I did not see anything of Sarah Briggs that night—I have lived in the neighbourhood thirteen months—my sister came down to me on Tuesday morning at 6 o'clock and complained-of the kick, and I said "That is a bad job"—she was out all day Sunday.
ANN TOWNSEND . I am a single woman, and live at 27, Morgan Street, the opposite side to the prisoner—on Saturday, the 24th October, about 12.30, Mr. and Mrs. Curtin went indoors—the prisoner was standing at the door quarrelling with a man—he called her fearful names, and I heard her say "No, you and your mother," and Robert Evans threw her on her back in the passage—I saw this from Mrs. Curtin's other door—I went and stood at the door—Mr. and Mrs. Curtin were indoors—they passed the prisoner in going in—the baby was not with them when they went indoors—when the prisoner got up she said—"When a policeman comes I willlock you up"—Robert Evans's mother came over and pushed the prisoner indoors, and shut the door, and then the prisoner went upstairs—I saw her come down again—Mrs. Curtin came out and opened the door with the baby in her arms, and stood on the doorstep—the prisoner came down stairs again and said "Robert Evans pushed me on my back in the passage," and then she says "On Monday morning I will take a summons out against you"—Evans was there then—he called her bad names again, and then she walked indoors—Mrs. Curtain said "Oh! the baby"—I did not see Sarah Briggs go, in—
the door did not shut completely—I saw nothing, more that night—I am sure about the time, because I was waiting up for the barrows which we let out, and all the houses were shut up—the prisoner did not strike Mrs. Curtin—I did not hear her say "Here is my b——y landlady" the prisoner was quarrelling with Evans before Mrs. Curtin came home, and was doing so still when Mrs. Curtin came up—I saw when the baby was hit—I saw the door pushed to—I was not at home at 11 o'clock, and I don't know what happened at 11 o'clock—all I saw was after 12 o'clock.
SUSANNAH CURTIN, JUN . It was 11 o'clock when all this happened—I was away from home at 11 o'clock—I was not asked to tell what I knew about it—father told me to come here because I saw it—I don't know who told him anything about it—I told him what I had seen before the child died—there was a row every Saturday night—it was after a summons was taken out against the prisoner that my father told me to come up for her—I was the only one in my family who saw it—I was waiting up for the barrows—I was examined before the Magistrate after the warrant was out for killing the child—I did not go before the Coroner—I have only been examined once.
Cross-examined. When I was examined at Arbour Square I was not asked as to whether the bad names had been made use of by Evans then—I did say that Evans had called her bad names—I heard Mrs. Briggs had the baby, but I did not notice Mrs. Briggs go in—I was talking to a young girl.
SUSANNAH CURTIN (re-called). This young man Evans did court my daughter—he did not quarrel with the prisoner that evening, for we were all out from 8 till 11 o'clock, and when we returned home I had been unable to carry my marketing, and I took my daughter with me to carry it—it might have been at the time that Mrs. Briggs had the baby—what happened then I cannot say.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES BRIGHTON . I live at 19, Lombard Street, Mile End New Town, and am a stableman—the prisoner had been lodging with me, and was so still, up to the 26th October last—that night my wife, self, and children went to bed at about 11 o'clock, at which time all was safe and right—about midnight I was aroused, and found my sitting-room on fire; the Venetian blind and work-table were burning—the sitting-room was the ground floor back—there was a wainscot partition between the passage and the back room—we put the fire out with the help of two young men—the prisoner's room was at the top, and when we went there we found the sheet, bed, and everything burnt—the prisoner was not then in the house—he did not sleep there that night—we worked at the same place—I have heard since that there was some ill-feeling between the prisoner and my wife—she is here—the prisoner had a key, and could let himself in at once ; there was a candle in his room upstairs—there were no matches up there—the prisoner would have to pass the partition in coming into the house.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I can't say that you set the house on fire—my wife told me you had an ill-feeling against her—she told me that
you went to the school to enquire about one of my children in the afternoon—in the evening the prisoner came home to tea as usual, and one of the little ones says "Jim, I see you at school this afternoon"—his name is William Goodsall, but I know him as "Jim"—he wanted to ask about one of the boys, and my wife wanted to know what right he had to go to the schoolmaster about one of her children"; she said she could do that, or his father, if he wanted it, and she was rather angry with him for doing it—he said he didn't go at first—then she told the boy not to tell his father about his interfering at the school—he then wanted my wife to let him have 2s., and she would not let him have it, and he got very cross about it and slammed the door.
JOHN MCKENZIE (Policeman H R 22). At about 7.30 on the morning of the 27th October the prisoner was given into my custody on the charge of setting this house on fire—I told him what he was given into oustody for, and he said "Quite right, I have done it"—he made some statement to the Inspector at the time, that whatever came into his mind at the lime it was bound to occur—the Inspector asked him if he did it by accident or wilfully, and he said he could not swear—I examined the house, and discovered two distinct fires, one in the bed-room and the other in the sitting-room.
JAMES WAYLING (207, Metropolitan Fire Brigade). I was called on the 27th October, about 1.25 in the morning, to go to Lombard Street, Mile End New Town—I went, and found a fire had been put out in the house, No. 19—I examined the premises, and found there had been fire outside and inside the partition between the passage and the parlour—I went into the bedroom on the first floor, and found a hole burnt in the back of the bedstead, two distinct fires—there was plaster on one side of the partition on the ground floor, and sacking and paper on the other—it had been fired on both sides—the plaster was next the parlour, and the other side next the passage—the paper on the inside of the plaster was burning—it was plastered and then papered—you could see through it; the hole was burnt through.
Cross-examined. It was some kind of linen hanging from the bed that had been burnt—your statement made at the police-station was that it was one of your own shirts—I could not say whether the place was set on fire wilfully or by accident—my first impression was, that some one had jumped out of bed hurriedly and set it on fire.
By THE COURT. That would not set fire to the partition in the parlour. (A statement by the prisoner was read, to the effect that he had been in the army, and had a fall from his horse, the result of which was, that if he had a glass of anything to drink he could not help doing anything thatcame into. his mind.)
Prisoner. I believe the statement made was that the fire broke out at 12.30. At 12.30 I was outside a public-house, talking to my brother; the public-house was closed. I had been sitting in the public-house with my brother, and I could not have been indoors.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT—Wednesday, November 25th, and Thursday, November 26th, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
There being no evidence offered, the Jury found a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CROOME conducted the Prosecution; Mr. Charles Matthews defended
Rust, and MR. A. B. KELLY defended Booth and Coomb.
HEKRY CARNE . I live at Finchley and am a clerk in the Bank of England—on Sunday morning, 1st November, between 12 and 1 o'clock, I was in St. Paul's Road, Highbury, going to a friend's house in Dalston—I met the three prisoners there—at that time I had a parcel in my hand—the prisoners stopped me as I was running along by pushing up against me—I am sure Rust was one of them and I think Booth was the next man to him—when they pushed against me I turned and wanted to know what they meant by it—they commenced insulting me and asked if I wanted to fight—I told them I should be very happy to knock them down if they wished it, and after a few more words I crossed over to the' cabman and asked him if he would hold my parcel for me—the cabman refused and I went back to where the prisoners were on the pavement—Rust was taking off his coat and Booth and Coomb pushed me-about and then I received a blow in the chest, I believe from Booth as he was nearest to me—it sent me into the road—I went back on to the pavement again and they asked me jeeringly to go home—I turned to go home and they all! ran up St. Paul's Road towards Islington—I felt in my pocket to see if' my watch was there and found it was gone—I ran after the prisoners—I believe I called out "Stop you villains" or something of that sort—I over-took Booth—he had not gone more than 20 or 30 yards—I threw him down and I saw the cabman driving after the others—they were brought back shortly after by the cabman and a policeman to where I was with Booth—Booth said if I would let him get up and not strangle him he could tell me all about it—that was before the others were brought back—when they came back Booth said that the watch was in the garden, he had thrown it away in the garden—after that I went to the station and charged them there—I saw my watch on the following Monday at the Police Court in the hands of the police—this (produced) is it.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. This was between Saturday night and Sunday morning, a few minutes past 12 o'clock—I was going to my friend's house to sleep—I said I should be happy to knock them down—I am not given to that kind of thing—I dare say if you came and pushed against me 1 should knock you down—Rust commenced to take off his coat—I believe that was what prompted me to say I should be very happy to knock them down.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. It did not occur to me at first that there was any desire to rob me; I should not have returned after going to the cabman if I bad thought that—I could have passed on; going back was my own act.
Re-examined. I did not strike any blow myself.
JOHN PYCROFT . I am a cabman—early on the morning of Sunday, 1st November, I was walking home—I saw Mr. Came and the three prisoners—they were all on the pavement close together having words and were talking about fighting, and Booth struck Mr. Carne and drove him into the road—Mr. Carne came to me and asked me to hold his parcel—at that time Rust was taking his, coat off—I declined to hold the parcel and Mr. Carne went back to them—they were telling him to go home after that—he turned to go home and then the three prisoners ran in the opposite direction—he turned immediately and said "Stop you scoundrels," and ran after them—I jumped on to a cab and went after them—another cabman drove and I rode by the side of him—I saw Mr. Came take Booth and drove after the other two—I took Rust first—Rust and Coomb were together and the policeman took Coomb—we took them back to where Mr. Came and Booth were—I heard Rust, say to Booth "You know all about the watch, why don't you say where it is, we don't want to get into trouble, if you tell the gentleman we could go back and find the watch?—Booth said "I know where the watch is," and after that he said be believed he could find it again.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. I heard Rust say to the prosecutor at the commencement "You have knocked me down"—they were on the pavement and the cab was on the other side—Rust also said "If you know all about it why don't you tell the gentleman."
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. Booth said "I will go back and try and find it"—there was no stand up fighting at all, there was only one blow struck, and the prosecutor said "If there was a policeman here I would give you all in charge for assaulting me.
RICHARD MITSON (Policeman N 558). I was in St. Paul's Road between 12 and 1 o'clock—I saw a crowd and went up and saw the prosecutor and the three prisoners—the prosecutor charged them with stealing his watch—I took them to the station, with the assistance of another constable—I afterwards went back to the garden of 182, St. Paul's Road, and found the watch just behind the iron railings, about 10 yards from where I saw the crowd.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. The watch was close to the wall—it was not covered with anything.
MARK WALLACE (Policeman N 134). I took Rust to the station—he turned round to Booth and told him if he knew where the gentleman's watch was to tell him, so that he could get it—I did not hear Booth say anything—I was in front with Rust.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate were read at follows:—Rust. "I know nothing about taking the watch. I turned to Booth and. said If you know where it is, why don't you tell the gentleman. "Booth." Rust and Coomb know nothing about the watch; I saw it lying on the pavement and picked it up and threw it into the gardens" Coomb, "I said I was very sorry, and asked the prosecutor not to prosecute me as I did not know anything about it."
Booth and Coomb received good characters.
Recommended to mercy by the Jury. Four Months' Imprisonment each.
39. HERBERT VYSE (30), and ALFRED JUDD (35), were indicted for various offences under the Bankruptcy Act—Vyse for obtaining goods "by false pretences, and for not truly disclosing his property—Judd for aiding and assisting him. Other Counts.—For joint conspiracy to defraud.
MESSRS. BESLEY and Straight conducted the Prosecution; MESSRS. MONTAGU.
WILLIAMS and CHARLES MATTHEWS defended Vyse, and MR. A. B. KELLY defended Judd.
NEHEMIAH LEAROYD . I am a member of the firm of Learoyd and Learoyd, solicitors, of Huddersfield, Yorkshire, and Moorgate Street, City—in 1869 I was the solicitor representing the assignees in the bankruptcy of Judd—his debts were, in round figures, about 2,000l—these are the proceedings in Judd's bankruptcy (produced)—I believe his trading related to one single year—I find on the proceedings several orders for Judd to file cash and deficiency accounts; they were all made upon my application—there was ultimately an order of the Court, of December, 1870, that the discharge of the bankrupt should be adjourned sine die, and he was to file a cash and deficiency account—the prisoner Judd is the man to whom these proceedings refer—in 1873, acting on behalf of Messrs. Mallinson & Co., of Huddersfield, I recovered a judgment against Vyse for 181l. 8s. 6d.—a writ of summons was issued in reference to that, but we were unable to serve it, and an order of substituted service had to be obtained—execution was afterwards issued upon that judgment, and placed in the hands of the Sheriff—we have got nothing.
RICHARD SPARKS . I am a clerk in the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce the proceedings in the bankruptcy of Herbert Vyse, of 28, Noble Street, and also the proceedings in the bankruptcy of Alfred Judd—Vyse describes himself of 28, Noble Street, City, warehouseman—the date, of the petition for adjudication is the 24th of February, and the adjudication was on 23rd March, 1874—Mr. Samuel Barrow was appointed trustee on 17th pril—the 28th of May was the day appointed for the bankrupt to appear and pass his public examination—I find a note that the bankrupt did not attend, and no excuse was alleged for his non-attendance—I also find on the proceedings an affidavit dated 27th of March, signed by Vyse—I do not know Vyse's handwriting—I also find the examination of Alfred Judd attached to the proceedings of Vyse's bankruptcy purporting to have been taken on 8th May, 1874—there is no statement of creditors in Vyse'a bankruptcy attached to the proceedings—I find a notification of the first meeting of creditors—that was the only meeting held before the adjudication—I don't see that Mr. Catlin attended on behalf of the bankrupt as his solicitor.
SAMUEL BARROW . I am an accountant, at 24, Gresham Street—I was appointed trustee under the bankruptcy of Herbert Vyse—Mr. Ditton was the solicitor who represented me, and Mr. Withers, his clerk, had charge of the bankruptcy on his behalf—I have not received any statement from him with reference to Vyse's affairs at all—I have not received any information as to how he incurred the liabilities or disposed of the goods he obtained—I have not received any books of account of any sort or kind—application was made on my behalf to the Court of Bankruptcy as to the prosecution of these persons.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I never had occasion to apply to Judd for. any information.
JOHN WITHERS . I have been acting in this matter—I produce the judgment paper of the 29th November, 1873, being the judgment in the Mayor's Court of Messrs. Horandt & Muller, of Basle in Switzerland, for
173l. and 3l. 8s. 10d. costs—execution was issued'upon that—I went to 28, Noble Street on the 24th December; that was after Mr. Fitch had taken possession—there were some large empty packing-cases, some cardboard boxes, and some large brown paper parcels—I opened nearly all of them, and found they contained straw principally—when they were tied up they represented a large quantity of goods; that is what I should have taken them to be—there was no stock there at all—the things were not taken away under the execution; there was an interpleader—they were claimed by Mr. Watson, Mr. Vyse's solicitor; he alleged he had purchased them sometime before for 7l.—that was the whole contents of the office—they were sold by Mr. Hay wood, who is here—a summons in bankruptcy was issued shortly before the levying of the execution—a debtor's summons was also taken out—I made efforts to serve—that on Vyse—I. went several times to Noble Street, and I sent every day—I saw Judd there on two or three occasions, and at other times the door was closed and locked—I asked Judd where Vyse was; he said he was not in, he did not know where he was, or anything at all about him—we got leave to substitute service on. the premises—the 24th February, 1874, was the date of the petition in bankruptcy being filed—I again made efforts to find Vyse, and went there on several occasions—I was at 28, Noble Street on the 5th March, when the broker was in possession—there was no difference in the place at that time—this affidavit is signed by Vyse, to the best of my belief—he there says "I am prepared to satisfy the petitioning creditor, as well as any other creditor who may have any claim; I say I am not indebted to any person beyond the persons in the due course of my business"—that is dated the 27th March—on the 25th March at 5.30 I saw Vyse and Judd come from Mr. Catlin's—they went into the Castle Tavern, in Gresham Street, and from there to the Raglan Hotel, in Aldersgate Street, and then to the refreshment bar at Aldersgate Street—they got into a Midland train, and I got into the next compartment—the train stopped at Farringdon Street, two or three persons got out of the train—after the the train had started Vyse suddenly opened the door, and jumped out—I jumped out too, and Judd went on in the train—Vyse went up to the refreshment bar, and had some refreshment; then he went to a public-house opposite—he had some refreshment there—he came out of the public-house, and got into a Hansom cab—I followed, and he went to Red Lion Street, Holborn—a young woman was waiting for him there, and he went with her into a public-house—they came out of there, and went to a kind of coffee shop in Red Lion Street, where they had tea; they then went into a public-house in Princes Street, Red Lion Square—they afterwards went to the Raglan "Music Hall where he remained till 10 o'clock—he then went again to the Stockbridge public-house, in Red Lion Street, where he waited till he was turned out at 12 o'clock; and then he went towards the Haymarket, and finally to the Turkish Divan, and I did not see any more of him—in the course of my inquiries I traced Vyse to 285, Hdlborn—I found out on the following day, the 26th, that was where he resided—I went there, and after making inquiries I went back in the evening—I found "Apartments to let" up then—I did not find Vyse there—I attended the first meeting of creditors on the 17th April, 4874; Mr. Catlin, Vyse's solicitor, also attended, and he produced this statement—at that time all that is written with ink was on. it; the pencil writing is my own, and is the names of the creditors I found out subsequently—when the paper was produced it contained nine
creditors only—the officer of the Bankruptcy Bourt refused to take it, and handed it over to me for the trustee—I endeavoured to see Vyse again, and went two or three times to Holborn and once or twice to Noble Street, but I was not able to see him—I did not write—he never attended to give any information about his affairs—no books, papers, or documents of any kind relating to his affairs have ever been produced by him to me—I sought to have him examined at the Bankruptcy Court, and got an order for that purpose—the 8th May was fixed for his attendance, the same day that Judd was examined, but he did not attend—I was present when Judd was examined, and his examination was taken by Mr. Barber, a shorthand writer—a public examination of Vyse was fixed for the 21st July, but he did not attend on that day—a warrant was granted by the Court on the 8th June for not attending on the 17th April, and was placed in the hands of Mr. Reed, the officer of the Court—I tried with Reed to discover him, but was unable to do so—Vyse was present on the 27th March, the same date as the affidavit—I asked Mr. Catlin whether he had 50l. in his pocket, the bankrupt was there, and Mr. Catlin said he had—the bankrupt did not attend the public examination in July, and a further appointment was made—on 3rd October I went to 285, Holborn, and searched the room, and found a number of memoranda, and also this letter in the handwriting of Judd.
By MR. KELLY. I know Judd's writing, by having seen him write on 27th December, when I was at the office in Noble Street—I only saw him write on that occasion, but besides that he has admitted the handwriting—I only saw him write an address on an envelope—I can swear this is his writing, without the slightest hesitation.
By MR. BESLEY. This is the letter—"Saturday, 1.30. Return at once, do not delay, say where I can meet you, at Peckham or somewhere out of town before you go to No. 285. Don't send anything to No. 9. Will explain when I see you." I also produce three pawn tickets which I found at 285, Holborn, and also some cards and invoices and a directory—I did not see Vyse from 27th March till he was in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I never saw Judd at 285, Holborn—I saw him on two or three occasions when I called at Noble Street, and he stated that Mr. Vyse was not there—I had no reason to suppose he was not there, but I have heard persons in there when the door has been locked—there was nothing that I saw that was inconsistent with his being a clerk.
CHARLES LEGGATT BARBER I am a shorthand writer appointed to the Court of Bankruptcy—I attended on the 8th May and took down in shorthand the examination of Alfred Judd—I transcribed the shorthand notes and this is the transcript on the file—he was summoned there in the bankruptcy of Vyse and was called as a witness upon those proceedings—the examination was before Mr. Registrar Brougham, the witness was examined by Mr. Ditton, and Mr. Catlin appeared for the witness. (The examination was put in and read at length, also certain memoranda and orders for goods which were referred to in the examination and which are also referred to in the evidence).
JOHN WITHERS (recalled). Cross-examined by Mr. Williams. I was present when Mr. Catlin handed over the statement of accounts on the 17th April—this is the statement—the pencil marks on it are mine—the total amount of the account is 2,127l.—two or three of the parcels I saw
at 28, Noble Street contained wadding, but the others all contained straw—I don't know that on several occasions Vyse has been absent from England on the Continent during the time he was trading—I have not ascertained that fact—I don't know that he was travelling on the Continent for orders—I have never seen him write.
ELI MALLINSON . I am a member of the firm of Mallinson and Sons, of Hudderafield—we supplied goods to Vyse in June and September, 1872, to the amount of 181l. 8s. 6d.—these are the invoices of the goods—on the 6th June we sent 198 yards of woollen cloth at 3s. 1d. and 106 and 99 yards—on the 28th June we sent 205 yards, and on 10th September. 50 1/2 yards, 416 1/2 and 46 yards—we never received payment for those goods—we took proceedings against the bankrupt: a writ was issued—we put the matter in the hands of our solicitor—this is the judgment—it is for 188l. 5s.—I produce five letters received by our firm from the bankrupt between the 28th May and 9th September, 1872.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I speak to these on the same ground as I spoke to the others, that I saw him write an address once on an envelope. (These were letters asking for patterns and ordering the goods).
EMIL HORNER . I am a silk agent and merchant at 2, Carey Lane—in May, 1873, I received instructions from my correspondents, Messrs. Ritchie and Co., of Zurich, in consequence of which I took proceedings against Vyse—I produce the judgment paper. (This was dated 1st July, 1874, for 169l. 15s. 8d. and 5l. 15s. costs, and was a judgment on an acceptance of Vyse of 25th February, 1873.) I did not realise anything from that judgment—I produce some letters which have been handed to me by Messrs. Ritchie. (John Withers. These letters are in the handwriting of Judd,) One of them is to Mr. Liverton, my solicitor—I was also agents for Messrs. Bessent Bros., of St. Etient, France—some goods were ordered from them, but I prevented them being sent.
WILLIAM HOPCROFT . I am a member of the firm of R. and W. Hopcroft and Sons, Nottingham—we deal in hosiery—in April, 1872, we supplied goods to Vyse, of 28, Noble Street, to the amount of 66l. 14s. 2d.—the first parcel was 17l. 5s. 8d. and the second 10l. 6s.—the last delivery of goods was on the 29th April—I afterwards sued for my debt aad I produce the judgment paper—the amount is 100l. and 11l. 11d. costs and is dated 6th September, 1872—we put it in the hands of Messrs. Sole and Turner and got 30l.: on October 5th, 1872, 15l., and December 21st, 1872, 15l., leaving the balance, 36l. 14s. 2d., unpaid—these are the letters we received in the course of the transactions. (John Withers. With one exception, these are in the (handwriting of Judd.) Those invoices contain a correct description of the goods—the amount of my bill before the law costs was 66l. 14s. 2d. and in October and December 30l. was was paid leaving 36l.
WILLIAM FIELD . I am a member of the firm of W. and J. T. Field, of Shelburn Park—we deal in fancy vestings—we supplied the firm of Vyse and Co. with goods in September, 1872—we got the order a month or two before that, but the goods were supplied on September 11th—I produce four letters received in the course of the transactions. (John Withers. Three of these letters are in the handwriting of Judd.) The first parcel was despatched on 11th September; that consisted of four pieces of silk vesting, 130 yards at 3s. 2d., and four pieces 130 yards at 2s. 2d.,
amounting to 35l. 3s. 1d.—the order was larger than that, but we did not deliver the remainder; we found out what the parties were—they wrote for patterns first and we sent them some—I took proceedings, the amount with costs being 50l. 15s. 9d.—received 7l. from the sheriff, leaving a balance of 43l—I have never known goods of that description sold at 35 1/2 per cent, discount.
WALTER WADE . I am a woollen cloth manufacturer in partnership with my father at Portobello Mills, Wakefield—I received these two letters. (John Withers. One is in the handwriting of Judd, and the other is in the same handwriting as the others to which I have not spoken). (This stated Your account shall receive attention at the beginning of next month") Previous to the receipt of that letter in 1874 we had supplied Vyse and Co., of 28, Noble Street, with goods in November, 1873—these copy invoices accurately describe the goods which were sent—the amount altogether is 91l. 2s. 6d.—I applied for payment and the letter which has been read is one that we received in reply—we afterwards instructed our solicitors and a writ was issued; that was the latter part of January, 1874—we never got any money.
JOSIAH CHARTER . I a member of the firm of Uphill, Charter and Co., of 3, Little Castle Street—we are agents for Messrs. Warner and Co., hosiers, of Leicester—we had nothing to do with the supplying of the goods by Warner and Co. to Vyse, but we were requested to obtain payment, and with that view I went to the office at 28, Noble Street—I think that was in April, 1873, and I continued going up to the time that they left—I should think I went fifty times altogether—sometimes I found the premises open and sometimes closed—I have seen both the defendants there on three or four occasions or more—I remember on one occasion asking Judd if Mr. Vyse was in—Judd said "No"—I asked if he had been in and he said "Yes"—I said "Will he be here any more to-day?"—he said "I don't know"—I heard a rustling of some paper and went and opened the counting-house door and Vyse sat there—I said "Oh, you are here, are you?"—he said "I am busy writing, I am too busy to attend to you"—I said he was not too busy to get goods, but he seemed too busy to pay for them—there was a great deal of conversation and he ran downstairs—I ran after him and he came back again—there was some more conversation, but I got no money—I got a letter from Mr. Watson in consequence of what I had said, threatening me with an action—I afterwards saw Messrs. Warner's goods at Town-end's in Wood Street, about May, 1873—they are wholesale dealers.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. When I went to Noble Street I went to see Vyse—I always asked for him—I understood the transactions to be with him, and when Judd said he was not at home the moment I saw Vyse he said he was too busy to see me—Judd promised me payment several times; he said if I would wait till 20th August he would prove to me that Vyse was an honest man and I should be paid—I could not tell what Judd was, I only know he was on the premises.
WALTER FRANCIS FITCH . I am agent in London for Messrs. Wemklyn and O'Hagan of Manchester—I produce three letters. (John Withers. Two of these are in the handwriting of Judd, and one in the same writing as the letters of which I have not spoken). (These were letters ordering patterns and goods). These copy invoices accurately describe the goods that were sent—I had samples of the goods—the amount of the two invoices is 200l. odd—Messrs. Wemklyn and O'Hagan sued Vyse and Co. for the amount—our
solicitors, Messrs. Phelps and Sedgwick have got the judgment paper—I have seen Judd—I called with Mr. O'Hagah in October, 1872, after the goods were delivered; Mr. O'Hagan applied for the money; Judd said that Vyse was out, but that he was certain when the account was due that it would be paid—we told him the account had been due two months—he said he could not do anything in the matter as Vyse was not there—I waited with Mr. O'Hagan from 2 till 8 o'clock, but Vyse never came—I went afterwards with the man who served the writ—the writ was served on Judd the day after our visit—we instructed Phelps and Sedgwick that afternoon, and I went with the man next morning to serve the writ—I have not been since the money has never been paid.
THOMAS BARTON . My firm is G. and T. Barton, of Macclesfield—we have had transactions with Vyse and Co., of 28, Noble Street, and have supplied goods—we commenced nearly three years ago and supplied goods for nearly six months to the amount of between 400l. and 500l.—we sued them afterwards and we got altogether about 200l. both before and after the sueing—I think they are indebted to us now about 300l., but I have got no particulars.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. I believe some of the money that was paid was paid under an arrangement by which Vyse was to pay 10l. a month—White and Co., of King Street, were the persons who received that—I don't know when the instalments commenced.
HENRY BORCKENSTEIN . I am a merchant, at 8, Moorgate Street, and am London agent for Messrs. Kaiser—I produce a judgment paper. (This was dated 10th December, 1873,for 177l. 11s. 8d. debt, and 7l. 8s. 2d. costs, on an acceptance drawn by Kaiser & Co., arid accepted by Vyse & Co., payable three months after 10th October, 1873, for 168l. 10s. 8d.) I issued execution, but got no money.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. Messrs. Kaiser sent me the bill—I don't know of any arrangement made between them and Vyse—I know no arrangement has been made subsequently to the bill being sent to me, because they have written to me repeatedly to enforce payment of the bill—I can't say whether they have had 50l. on account of that acceptance.
Re-examined. The bill was first circulated and came back protested, when it was sent endorsed to me" Try and get the money"—I put it in the lawyer's hands, and it seems that the judgment is in my name.
JOHN WITHERS (re-called). I have received a judgment paper and certain letters from the clerk of Messrs. Pritchard and Englefield, the solicitors—those letters are in the handwriting of Judd—this is the judgment (This was a judgment in the Lord Mayor's Court, dated 21st October, 1872, for 16l. 12s. and 3l. 15s. 8d. costs against Vyse).
WILLIAM KEMP . I am a partner in the firm of Thomas Kemp & Sons, silk merchants, of Spital Square—we supplied two parcels of goods to Vyse & Co., 28, Noble Street, in February, 1872—on February 2nd; 32l. 12s. 6d., and on the 9th, 17l. 0s. 9d.—I did not see either of the defendants before I supplied the goods, my brother did—about June, 1872, three months after the goods had been delivered, I went to 28, Noble Street, and I continued to go at frequent intervals during the whole of the year 1872—I went perhaps eight or ten times altogether—I went in the usual business hours, and about twice out of three times I found the place closed—when the place was open I saw Judd and asked him with reference to the payment of the account which was due, and on all occasions I have been promised that we
should receive the money—eventually I received 3l. from Vyse—I met him in the street with Judd, and he promised we should have the account—I said "You had better let me have something on account," and he gave me 3l. from his purse—that was on 20th March, 1873—I have not had any more on account of his debt: the rest is due to me—the description of the goods was on 2nd February, 182 yards of black silk, suitable for mantles and dresses, and on the 9th 87 yards of silk of a similar character.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. Nothing was said about a monthly arrangement when the 3l. was paid—Mr. Vyse said he would pay the rest as soon as he could.
LOUIS JUDAH ABRAHAMS . I am buyer and manager to Mr. Mark Josephs, at 139, High Street, Whitechapel—I have known Judd about three years and Vyse not quite so long—I believe Judd was a commission agent at first—I never saw Vyse in Aldermanbury—I have my books and invoices here—I have an invoice here of the 27th December, 1871, 524 yards of silk at 1s. 3d.—that is in Vyse's handwriting, and was written by him in Aldermanbury—I must have known him in Aldennanbury, and I was wrong in what I said just now—the first transaction with Vyse was on 27th December, 1871, 524 yards of silk at 1s. 3d., 32l. 15s.—this is his receipt—I paid that money to Vyse—I think Judd introduced him first, and I think he brought us samples—the next transaction was the 30th January, 1872, 7l. for two sewing machines—I produce the cheque—I forget whether I saw Judd in that transaction—the next was on March 1st, 1872,18l. for 90 1/4 yards of silk—the next is March 6th, three pieces of coating, 173 1/2 yards, 20l.—I produce the invoice, receipted, and the cheque—I believe I paid Vyse, but I really don't know, except the invoice has the signature of who ever I paid—there was also 51 3/4 yards of black union, on the 6th March, for 4l.—I gave him a cheque for 24l.—this is the cheque in respect of that transaction—the next was the 14th March, 165 yards of black union cloth at 4l. 8d. a yard, 13l. 15s.; that was not a pledge, but a sale outright—the 22nd was the next, six pieces of fancy coating, 257 3/4 yards at 5s., 65l. 10s. 3d.—a cheque for 40l. was paid and cash 20l., discount 5l. 10s. 3d.—the next transaction was on April 3rd, 171 yards of coating at 3s. 2d.,27l. 1s. 6d.—I paid that to Judd—the next was April 4th,10l. for 90 1/4 yards of silk—that was received by Judd—the next was May 2nd, forty dozen of cotton hose at 8s., and forty dozen at 11s., 38l.—there was a discount of 17 1/2 per cent., amounting to 6l. 13s.—I paid a cheque for 26l. 7s.—I made a mistake in my examination at the Bankruptcy Court—I said that the discount was 11l. 13s., instead of which it was 6l. 13s.; the invoice is right, and I am wrong in my book—I only gave a cheque for 26l. 7s., and the remainder was in cash—that was paid to Judd, and the receipt was signed by him—the next transaction was May 27th, 267 yards of coating, 33l. 7s. 5d.—I believe that was paid by cheque—this is the cheque, "Pay Vyse & Co. or order," and endorsed Vyse & Co.—I paid that to Vyse—the 28th May was the next, sixteen dozen pounds of thread at 1l. per dozen, 16l.—I paid that cheque to Vyse—there was no discount off that—June the 3rd is the next, for some linens, amounting to 53l. 14s.—that was paid to Vyse—June 15th, 401 1/2 yards of fancy doeskin at 2s. 1d., 46l. 16s. 4d.—I paid a cheque for 45l. 13s., and discount 1l. 3s. 4d.—June 21st is the next, that is a long invoice of some odd sample dozens of hose, amounting to 24l. 14s. 5d.—35 per cent discount was taken off that.
MR. WILLIAMS here stated that he could not resist a conviction against Vyse
upon some of the counts, and that he would plead GUILTY .) The next transaction was on the 3rd July, 205 yards of doeskin, 23l. 13s., receipted by Vyse; 11th July, 40 large silk shawls, at Us., 34l., receipted by Vyse; 12th July, 1,872 1/2 yards of flannel at 10d., 78l. 0s. 5d., and wool rugs, 8l., receipted by Judd for Vyse & Co.; 13th August, 14 pieces of black silk velvet, 1,408 yards for the lump sum of 110l. nett, cash—I have missed 1st August, there is not an invoice of that; 13 pieces of black neck-handkerchiefs, and 2 pieces of sarsenet, for 30l.—29th August, 100 railway rugs for 33l., paid to Judd for Vyse & Co.; 30th August, 2 pieces of Japanese silk and 3 pieces of sarsenet, 80l.; 10th September, 4 pieces of black velvet, 9l. 10s.; 12th September, 10 pieces of fancy Tweed, 523 yards at 2s. 6d., 65l. 3s. 6d.; 20th September, 816 yards coloured Japanese silk and 327 yards of sarsenet, 73l. 9s. 6d., 8 pieces of vesting, 264 1/2 yards, 35l. 3s. 1d.—I believe the invoice is in Judd's handwriting, it is receipted by Vyse and paid by cheque—I have no particular means of knowing Judd's handwriting, except by the invoices and constantly dealing with him—I can't say that he came with the goods—I have seen him write some invoices—the next transaction is 9th October, 81l. 8s. 2 1/2, discount for cash, 79l. 8s.—the next is 17th October; 40 woollen wrappers, nett cash, 12l. 10s.—21st October, 13 pieces of white sarsenet, 69l. 3s.; 23rd October, 1205 yards of sarsenet, 74l. 1s., discount 1l. 17s. 2d.—4th November, 8 pieces of union cloth and 120 railway wrappers, for 81l. 9s. 8d.; 19th November, 1184 yards of sarsenet,74l. 10s.; 26th November, 647 yards of sarsenet, 31l. 11s.; 18th December, 299 1/2 yards mixed Devons, 18l. 4s.; 13th January, 1873, 20 dozen half hose, it. 10s.—that is signed by Judd for Vyse & Co.—6th February, 120 dozen half hose, 21l. 18s. 6d.; 25th February, 161 1/2 yards of Devons at 15d., 10l. 1s. 11d.; 7th March, 942 yards of black silk, 125l. 12s.; 20th March, mohair and flannel, 39l.; 9th April, 120 dozen half hose, 20l. 18s.—then there is nothing between that date and 22nd October, 1873, 120 pieces of Swiss book muslin, 47l., 33. per cent, off 61l. 6s. 8d.—the body of that invoice seems to be in Judd's writing—13th November, 199) yards of black union, 97 1/4 yards different patterns, 54l. 2s. 8d.; 26th November, 207 3/4 yards of black union at 4s. 2d., 41l. 1s. 5d.; 10th December, 471 yards of woollen shirting, 31l. 8s.—these are the receipts, and I produce the cheques in respect of the different transactions—in all the transactions the goods were brought to our place in a truck in the ordinary way, and sometimes by a porter—they were always unpacked when they came—I was not always there when the goods came, to see who came with them—I have seen different porters bring them—I have not always had the transactions with Judd when the invoices have been in his handwriting—they have been together sometimes—I have not seen Judd bring pieces—I have been to 28, Noble Street, but I could not say how often; it might be once a week or twice a week, sometimes a month might elapse—I could not give you any definite times—sometimes I have seen Judd there, sometimes Vyse, and sometimes both—I might have been there in the interval between the 9th April, 1873, and October, 1873—I have seen a ticket on the door, 'Be back by a certain time.'
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. From first to last in the transactions I have spoken to, I supposed I was dealing with Vyse—Judd always seemed to be a subordinate—if he showed me samples, and I made him an offer for a piece, he always said "Well, I must submit it to Vyse."
Re-examined. I had dealings with Judd as a commission agent before he
introduced me to Vyse—he did not owe me anything—I was acting for Mr. Josephs; he is a woollen draper and Manchester warehouseman—we do with a good many tailors, and they would have sewing machines, and the sarsenets are suitable for caps—we must have been Mr. Vyse's principal customer.
WILLIAM DAWES . During 1871, 1872, and 1873, I was employed as porter by Mr. Brock at 28, Noble Street—Vyse had a room there on the second floor front—I know both the defendants—I went on duty about 7.15 in the morning, and remained till 6, and sometimes 7, and sometimes 9 o'clock in the evening; it depends upon whether we were busy or not—I saw Judd there sometimes—I have been there when goods and parcels have been brought by the railway vans—Vyse & Co.'s office was not always open—I have known goods arrive when the office has not been open, and they were then placed on one side till Judd came, and then they were taken in by him—I have seen goods unpacked and taken upstairs, and I have seen goods go away again—a man came with a truck, and took them away—I did not know the man; he came with Judd—it was not always the same man—it was not the same man twice to my knowledge—the men were brought there by Judd—sometimes the goods were taken away in an hour, or an hour and a half, or two hours after they were brought by the vans—I never had any conversation with Judd as to where the goods were going—Jndd was most frequently at the place of business—on one occasion he left me an order to authorize me to take in goods when the carman came and he was not there—this is it: "To-Chaplin & Horne, from Vyse & Co., to the carman; please leave the truss for us with bearer, who will sign for it on our behalf"—sometimes Vyse has been absent from the place of business for three weeks or a month; I have not seen him sometimes fox that time, and Judd has been there while he was away—I have seen the door locked when people have come there and left a memorandum or message in the box, and I have heard someone inside, but I did not know who it was—there has been a paper on the door when I heard somebody inside.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I have frequently seen Vyse there as well as Judd—I looked upon Vyse as the master—I never heard Vyse say that he was going abroad.
SAMUEL HAYWOOD . I am one of the officers of the Sheriff of London—on 10th August I had a fi fa to levy on the 12th on the goods of Vyse & Co., 28, Noble Street, for 55l. and 1l. 5s. costs, at the suit of Henry Walker against Herbert Vyse—I went to 28, Noble Street, to the office on the second floor front—I am not positive whether I got in or not—I think I met the defendants in the street—I spoke to them, and I afterwards accompanied one or both to Mr. Watson, their solicitor, and he went with me to Mr. Leoroyd, and an arrangement was made as to the settlement—I am not sure that Judd went with Vyse and myself to Mr. Watson—on the 27th. November, 1872, I had a warrant, at the suit of Mr. Field, for 50l. 15s. 9d. and 1l. 9s. costs—I went to the place then and levied—I think I found Judd there—I sold the whole of the contents of the place for 7l. 7s. 6d.—they were chiefly samples—Mr. Watson was the purchaser—the next execution I had was on the 2nd December, 1872, for 48l. 10s. and 1l.-6s. costs, for Mr. Ingram—I tried to get in, but there was nothing there beyond what I had seized before—the next was a committal orderon the 25th May, 1873, for 6l.—I saw Judd several times, and told him my business—there was another on the same date for 1l. 6s. 8d., and they were both satisfied—the next was on the
14th July, 1873, for Mallinson—that was a fi fa—I think I entered then, but not finding any more goods than I seized before, I returned "No" goods"—I can't say whether I saw Judd there the last time I went.
THOMAS COOMBS . I am a house-agent and furniture dealer and distraining broker—the landlord of the room occupied by Vyse & Co. instructed me to levy—I hold the warrant now—I levied on 28th February, 1874, for 10l. 13s. 9d.—I found fourteen wooden boxes and packing-cases, contents white paper, sundry pieces of canvas, about sixty dummies and paper boxes empty, patterns, and other things of that kind—they were condemned by Thompson, an appraiser, of the Cambridge Road, for 25s. 6d.—I sold them for 14s., and took away the patterns because I could not find a purchaser—I saw nothing of Vyse during the whole seven days I was on the premises; Judd came backwards and forwards on several occasions—whilst I was in possession I got this letter (produced).
JOHN WITHERS (re-called). This is in the handwriting of Judd. (Read: March 3rd, 1874. Please give the bearer any letters you may have, also be good enough to keep the door shut as we may probably arrange with the landlord to withdraw in a short time. Vyse and Co. A. J."—three of the cheques which have been produced by Mr. Abrahams are endorsed "Vyse' and Co." in the handwriting of Judd—they are dated 3rd April, 2nd May, and 2nd August, 1872.
MURRAY RUSSELL . I saw Judd with respect to taking an office at 9, Goldsmith's Street, Wood Street, at an annual rent of 25l.—he said It was for Vyse—I think it was about March this year, but I can't give you the exact date.
GEORGE COOPER . I am clerk to Messrs. Allen and Co., silk mercers, and linen drapers, 69 and 70, St. Paul's Churchyard—I have kept the bought ledger for some years and I have carefully examined it for the past seven years—I find one transaction with Vyse and Co, of Noble Street, during that time—that was May 15th, 1873, and the amount was 1l. and 6d.—that is the only transaction.
WILLIAM WALLIS PARTRIDGE . I am salesman in the trading department of Howell and Co., St. Paul's Churchyard—I know Judd by sight—in April, 1872, he purchased some goods to the amount of 6l., have got the invoice—there was no other transaction but that one—I don't know Vyse at all.
Cross-examined. Our firm might have transactions which would not come directly under my notice at the time, but they would come to my knowledge afterwards.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am buyer to Charles Meeking and Co., Holborn—I know Judd by sight—on 2nd May, 1873, we had a transaction with him to the amount of 6l. 18s.—I produce the invoice—we have had no other transactions with Vyse and Co.—I never saw Vyse till he was in custody.
JAMES CHAPMAN . I am clerk to Messrs. Hitchcock, Williams and Co., St. Paul's Churchyard—I have searched through the bought ledger and the other books and I find one transaction with Vyse and Co., 28, Noble Street—I produce the invoice and receipt—I don't know either of the defendants—20l. 10s. 9d. is the amount—it is receipted "For Vyse and Co. A. Judd.".
is in Court—we have never had any transactions with the firm of Vyse and Co., 28, Noble Street, and I do not know either of the defendants.
JUDD— GUILTY on the Conspiracy Counts— Judgment Respited.
VYSE— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, November 26th, 1874.
Before Mr. Baron Pollock.
MESSRS. BESLEY and MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LESLIE . I was master of the Satsuma on her last voyage from Cardiff to Table Bay—she is a British ship, her owner is W. R. Abbey, of Knaresboro', she hails from Sunderland, her register is 355—on 13th December last she sailed from Cardiff with coals on a voyage to Table Bay—the crew consisted of twelve, all told—Richard Jewell was the chief mate, James Willey the steward, William Jones an able seaman, the prisoner who went by the name of Anderson, Robert Nelson the cook, Prospero Beltram an able seaman, and Richards second mate—Willey, Jones, Anderson, Nelson, and Beltram were engaged in this transaction—on the voyage, about 20th January, information was given me by William Dunn, able seaman, that Willey was wasting the ship's stores—I spoke to Willey about it and told him I should have him punished for it at the Cape—some time previous to that the prisoner had thrown overboard a dog belonging to the ship, and I called him aft and told him I should have him punished on our arrival at the Cape—he said the dog had come into the berth and eaten his food—I don't know whether that was so or not—Jones and Beltram had been disrated before this; they were not fit for able seaman's duty, not even fit for ordinary seaman's duty, useless, fellows—nothing more transpired until the morning in question, everything was quiet and right—on the morning of 29th January we were in latitude 31.8 South, longitude 23.38 West, we had passed the island of Trinidad a few days before—we had got about four days' sail from Trinidad and were about 1,000 miles from the nearest mainland—I went to bed at my usual hour that night and everything was as I believed calm and proper—at 5 o'clock in the morning Anderson, Willey, and Jones were in my berth; when I awoke hearing a noise in my berth I raised my head, which was hardly clear of the pillow when a rope with a slip noose was put over it and hauled tight; that was done by Jones—I turned round and saw him, it was a small newly-tarred rope, it sunk into my neck, it was a splice, not a knot, a noose, it would cut your head off if it was hauled tight enough; I felt it hauled tight—Willey had a revolver pointed at my face and the prisoner had a small hatchet belonging to the vessel—I made a dash at them and burst through them, endeavouring to get to Jewell the mate's cabin for assistance—his berth was in the fore cabin—my berth was in the after cabin; there was a communication between the two, down below and I tried to get by that communication forward to his cabin—I was struggling all the way, dragging Jones who had hold of the rope round my neck all the time—before I got to the mate's cabin I received three or four, I could not exactly say how many, blows from the prisoner with the hatchet, cutting my head open and covering my head with blool—Jones was tugging at
the rope all this time, it was still round my neck—I cried out for help to the the second mate knowing that it was his watch, and one of them I am not sure which replied 1" He is all right," which led me to believe that he was over-board or killed; I got no answer from him—the chief mate heard the noise and sprang out of his berth to my assistance; he warded off several blows aimed at me by the prisoner—Willey was still there with the revolver, threatening all the time, but he did not fire then—I was almost exhausted when I arrived at the chief mate's cabin—I was covered with blood, and nearly suffocated, I could hardly breathe—I made a rush at the companion, the staircase up to the deck, and dragged Jones with me, who had hold of the rope round my neck all the time; the other men followed up after—when I got on deck Beltram was at the wheel steering, it was his watch—I asked him to render assistance; he would not—there was a good deal of struggling on deck, but I was unconscious for about a quarter of an hour, and hardly knew what took place—the next thing that I remember was some one calling "Look out"—I had cut the rope off before that in the struggle, but I can't say exactly whether it was with a cutlass or an axe that I cut it—I took the axe out of Anderson's hand; the rope lay across the top of the companion, and I cut it that way as far as I remember—I had very great difficulty in taking it off my neck; it was sunk right in—I was struggling on the deck with these three men, the mate was there also; it was then I heard the cry "Look out"—I then saw Anderson with a large handspike uplifted coming down on my head, and I either fell or jumped down the companion stairs, I don't know which, to avoid the blow—I don't know whether the blow missed me—the same blow smashed the top of the companion, the wood work made of teak; at the same instant a revolver was fired—I turned round and saw the mate lying on the side of the poop deck—I thought he was shot—I went into the after cabin and sat down exhausted—I hardly knew what to do—I was sitting on a chair with my head on, the table covered with blood—the next thing I remember was the sky-light being raised up nearly above my head—I looked up and saw Willey pointing a revolver down into the cabin—I can't say where Anderson was then—Willey said he was going to leave the ship, and asked what boat should he take; but before that, he sent Nelson, the cook, down to hand up six rifles which were in the cabin—Nelson came down and handed them up—I was not then in a condition to resist—I could not do anything; that was before the mate joined me; I thought I was the only person there free—Willey said "What boat shall we take?"—I said "Take the one on the port side"—we had three boats—the rifles were handed up through the sky-light, and they handed up a quantity of provisions—Willey called down the sky-light "Are you much hurt"—I said I was nearly dead or half dead—he said several times "l am a gentleman, I am a gentleman"—when I said I was half dead he said he was sorry for it, but if I had not struggled so much I should not have been so much hurt, or I should have come better off, or words to that effect—Willey sat on the sky-light and gave bis orders in a cool and able manner—he gave orders to lower the boat and provisions and called for everything he wanted—I heard him crying out for Dunn, and he said he would hang him at the yard arm before leaving the ship—Dunn was an able seamau, who remained faithful, but where he was I did not know—I begged Willey not to commit murder, and he said he would shed no more blood; it was Dunn who had told me about the wasting of
the stores—they had a sort of log book written against me, some stuff or other—after this the chief mate called out that the boat was gone, and I went on deck and saw her sailing away about a mile and a half off—I was all covered with blood, consciousness had returned—I found the sails all aback and no one at the wheel—I afterwards missed a number of stores—I am not sure whether the boat had the name of the Satsuma on her; she was peculiarly painted, I never saw a boat painted in the same way; she was a kind of jolly boat with a lug sail—the five men I have mentioned went in her, the prisoner being one—I had a gun on deck—I found that was spiked when I came on deck, and all my arms were gone—I did not know of the men having a revolver, it was not one belonging to the ship; they had several revolvers, I believe, but not that I knew of until this—there were only seven left on the ship, including myself, and two boys out of that—if a gale of wind had come on and we had been near land, the ship would have been endangered, and the lives, in consequence of the shortness of hands; fortunately we encountered no wind, we had a clear voyage out—they cut away the lashings of the boat, and some of the running gear of the ship was cut—some time after I heard a voice crying out, which I knew to be that of the second mate—Mr. Jewell released him—I saw Dunn come out of the fore hatch covered with coal dust—we arrived at Table Bay on 23rd February—I had then entirely recovered from my wounds, they had healed up—I still felt giddy and very nervous—I eventually got two hands from a Swedish ship to navigate my ship—I spoke an Australian vessel called the Trevilian, and the captain came on board and took a copy of my official log of this occurrence.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did your work on board well enough as a sailor—I did not give you any work that you were not able to do—you did your work like a man as far as I saw; you were treated better than any man I ever saw—I was not on deck at the time you threw the dog overboard, I was in the fore cabin at breakfast when I was told of it—I was not drunk, I never was drunk—I remember the day before New Year's eve—I don't remember the mate trying to jump overboard, or his going into the galley and beating the cook—I was not so confused when you came into my cabin that you had to catch hold of me to make me fast—the thing was done instantaneously, if I had taken time you would have had my head off or I should have been shot—I swear you had a hatchet and Willey a revolver—it was you who struck me and cut my head open and would have killed me, I suppose, had not the mate interfered—I did not threaten to throw you overboard when I heard of the dog being thrown over; I said you ought to be served the same as the dog, but I would wait and punish you at the Cape—the provisions that were wasted were flour, sugar, tea, butter, and others—I know they were taken away, for after Dunn told me I went and looked and found more than a month's stores gone, taken into the forecastle—Dunn told me that he had used some of the stores himself, but he said it was such a shame—I did not go into my cabin and smoke my pipe after this occurrence—the night Dunn told me of the wasting of the stores he brought a book to me, it was full of lies and I threw it overboard; I did not read it; Dunn told me it was a lot of lies—I did not go into the cabin and seize the steward by the throat—I did not on the Saturday before this Sunday go into the forecastle and drag anybody out.
Re-examined. There is no pretence for any of the questions that have been put to me, it is a tissue of lies—when the men came into my cabin I
was collected enough to know who they were and what had happened, I had not tasted spirits for a month.
RICHARD JEWELL . I was chief officer on board the Satsutma—she left Cardiff on 13th December—nothing occurred until the 29th Jauua-y—no complaints were made before that—it was the second mate's watch—at 5 o'clock in the morning I was in bed in my cabin—I was awoke by a noise; I looked out and saw the captain covered with blood and struggling with three men, Anderson, Willey, and Jones—Jones had hold of a rope which was round the captain's neck, it was a small piece of rattlin line; he was trying to strangle him—the captain was blue looking and all covered with blood—the prisoner had a hatchet, Willey had a revolver, he was standing by pointing the revolver at the captain—the prisoner had the hatchet over the captain's head making a motion as if he was going to hit him down, but I grabbed hold of him and the captain rushed up the companion and I and the rest followed, all three of them; Jones had hold of the rope till he got up—I can hardly tell what then occurred, but the first thing I saw was the prisoner come with a handspike and was going to aim at the captain's head—this was on the poop close by the companion; it is not a flush deck, but a poop, the companion comes up on to the poop—I don't think the handspike hit the captain—I sung out "Look out!" and just at the time the captain fell down, I think, and the handspike broke the top of the companion and smashed it all to pieces—the captain went down the companion stairs—then somehow or other the prisoner and I got scuffing; he had a revolver in his hand then, sometimes it was-at my head and sometimes it was knocking against me, but he could not discharge it—he had not got the hatchet then; I don't know what had become of it—I was trying to save myself and he threw me down and I lost the revolver somehow—when I came to myself I got up as quickly as I could, seeing I had nobody to take my part I rushed down to the cabin and just as I went clown somebody discharged a shot, I think it was Willey; it flashed past my eyes—after that I went into the cabin to the captain—he was lying with his head on the table exhausted—I whispered to him—Willey, who was at the companion with a revolver pointing down, ordered me away, and said "I know what you and the captain are talking about"—the captain was not able to speak—I then went into my berth and stopped there—I could not see from there—I heard Willey send down Nelson, the cook, to pack up things, all kinds, brandy and whiskey, the boat's sails, and everything they required—they took six rifles first—after a while Willey sung out and asked the captain which boat they should take—the captain said the one on the port side—after a while I heard that they had gone, but they were an hour or more before they went—they asked me for a South Atlantic chart—I said I had not got one, I had one for the Brazil coast—they said that would do, and I passed it out to them—Willey like made game, telling me that I dared not refuse them because they had us in their power—he also asked me for tobacco, pipes, and matches, and they took a bag of bread, tins of preserved meat, and a new log line—when they had gone away I found the second mate down the after hold with his hands and feet strapped together and tied round the body and legs as well—I released him—I think the name of the ship was on the boat which they took away—they took black and white paid, and I missed some paints and brushes after they had left—I cut the, hair off the captain's head and put some sticking plaster on the places, and
dressed his wounds—they were such wounds as would be produced by the hatchet I saw.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The captain did not kick Beltram about one Saturday morning in the forecastle, he never kicked or touched anybody to my knowledge; he did not tell the men to scrape down the fore-to pmast—I remember George Simmonds being sick—I did not go in to his berth and haul him out; I was not tight—I never put my hald to one of you, but you pretty well killed me—I never went into the galley and beat the cook—I did not try to jump overboard—you did your work as well as you could; there were many things that I could have done better, you did the work very carelessly—I don't think I ever spoke an uncivil word to one of you while you were on board, I am certain I did not—you had plenty of everything to eat and drink—you were never kept short of anything—I did not on the morning of New Year's eve come to you at the wheel with the steward and ask you what work had been done for a couple of days that I might make up the log—I did not have a cutlass to defend myself on the morning of the mutiny, I never had a cutlass in my hand—I did not see one with the captain, you took us by surprise—I twisted the revolver out of your hand somehow or other, but you threw me on the deck and broke my knuckle over it, and my hand was bad for sir weeks after I got to the Cape, I had to go to a doctor.
Re-examined. The ship was very well found in stores for the crew, there was plenty of. everything that was reasonable for them to have—I have been at sea thirteen years mate of a ship, and master one voyage, I took a new vessel out—this was a good ship, and well provided.
By THE JURY. There was no drunkenness on board—the captain is a sober man—I was never tight on board.
THOMAS PORT . I am sixteen years old—I was an apprentice on board the Satsuma—I slept in the after house with Usher—on the morning of 29th January I was in' my berth asleep—I was disturbed by the captain coming in and singing out for James Usher; his face was all covered with blood—I did not see anything that the men did before the boat went away—I went on deck and saw Willey sitting on the skylight with a revolver in his hand pointing it down the skylight—I did not see where the prisoner was—I was told to get out the boat—I saw the prisoner with a handspike in his hand—I did not see him strike any blow with it—Willey made me go down and pass up the boat's sails—I was frightened a little—Nelson, the cook, asked me to come in the boat with them, but 1 would not go—he ordered me and some of the others into the forecastle, and I went with Simmonds and Usher—Dunn was down in the fore hold; the prisoner spiked the gun—I saw him—that is all I know about it—I stuck to my ship.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I don't remember the captain beating Beltram on the Saturday forenoon—I don't remember the mate hauling Simmonds out on deck when he was sick—I am telling the truth—I don't remember seeing the captain drunk on Christmas eve—I never saw Dunn drunk while I was on board—I know nothing about the provisions being wasted; that was what Dunn reported—I saw you throw the dog overboard—I think the mate was on deck then; his face was not cut—I had a boil on my arm, and I went into the forecastle, for you to poultice it—I don't remember the mate coming in and you saying you had thrown some whisky overboard that Dunn had stolen.
By THE JURY. I never saw the captain or the chief officer the worse for
drink during the voyage—the captain was kind to the men—we had plenty of good provisions.
JAMES WOOD USHER . I was an able seaman on board the Satsuma—I remember the 29th January, when the boat went away—I was asleep in my bunk about 5 o'clock, I was awoke by a noise—when I got on deck I saw the mate struggling with the prisoner—I did not see what the prisoner had in his hand; I afterwards saw him with a handspike, and also William Jones, the American, I think, had one in his hand—the captain came into my berth and called me upon deck—I noticed blood round his face, and he had a hatchet in his hand—he was bleeding from the head—Willey and the prisoner had revolvers—Willey pointed his revolver at me, and ordered me back into my berth again, and shut the door—I heard him say that he would hang Dunn at the mainyard arm before he left the ship—Dunn went down forward in the coal part—I saw the prisoner go down there with a revolver in his hand, and afterwards heard two shots fired—when the boat went away the prisoner took a bag of clothes, a pair of sea boots, and an oilskin belonging to Dunn—I saw the prisoner spike the gun, he drove one nail in first with a hammer, and then he drove in another at the side—Simmonds, Purt and I were ordered into the fore house—after the boat went away we got out at the sky light, we could not get out at the door, it was closed.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not notice which of you it was that shut the forecastle door on us, but I think it was Willey—you did not shake hands with me over the boat's side as you were leaving—I and Dunn did not come into the cabin one morning and steal some bread and pork—I was never drunk while I was on board, and never saw any one else drunk—I swear that it was a revolver you had in your hand—I saw you go towards the forecastle with it, and 1 heard it fired off—a block falling on deck would not make the same noise—I did not see the smoke, I was not there at the time, I was amidships when I heard the firing—I don't remember the captain beating Beltram or any one; I swear that, at least I did not know—I did not see the captain haul him out of the forecastle on Saturday forenoon—I don't remember the captain hauling the steward out of his berth one Sunday night—I had a dog on board, I gave it to the ship—I used to feed it—I did not see the steward and the mate set the dog and cat to fight.
Re-examined. I went on with the ship to Ceylon and afterwards came home in her—I found everything comfortable on board, and" I would not care about going with the captain again if he would take me.
RICHARD WOOTTON (Thames Police Inspector.) In consequence of a telegram received by the superintendent from Australia, on 7th July, I went on board the City of Florence at Gravesend and found the prisoner there—I came up with the ship to Victoria Dock; Inspector Sayer came on board there, and I pointed out the prisoner to him—Sayer told him that he was an inspector of police and asked him if his name was Johnstone—the prisoner said "Why?"—Sayer said "You were in the Satsuma"—the prisoner said "This is a bad job"—I then accompanied him to the deck-house of the ship and Sayer said that he should take him in custody for mutiny on the sea—he made no answer—he afterwards said to me "How did you know about me?"—I said "We hear of things," and asked him where he left the Satsuma—he said "At sea"—I said "How did you get to Melbourne"—he said "We were picked up by the Kate Kearney"—I said "Did she take you to Melbourne?"—he said "No, there were three of us in the Singalea or Singalese
(I am not certain which) and she took us to Melbourne"—I then took Mm to Wapping station—I there said "How many of you left the Satsuma"—he said "Three"—I said "Where are the other two?"—he said "Bill Jones and the Spaniard Beltram went to Hong Kong in the Kate Kearney"—he then said to me "How do you think I shall get on?—I said I don't know"—he said "How is the captain and mate?"—I said "You ought to know best, how did you leave them?"—he said "All right; the mate gave us a bottle of beer and some rope yarn to bring the sail to when we left the ship; one day the captain and mate were drunk, they beat two of the men and threatened to throw me overboard; if it had not been for the whiskey this would not have happened"—he afterwards said he told them in the Kate Keurney that he had been cast away in the Laura and she had foundered—on the 8th I took him to Bow Street, and in passing St. Paul's in a cab he looked out and I asked him if he had seen the building before—he said "No, I was never in London before"—he afterwards said "I had a pistol on board the ship, I sat on the skylight and kept guard, but I did not use it, I suppose I shall get off with two years"—this was a voluntary statement on his part.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I don't wish to say anything. I have no witnesses to call—if any of the rest of the crew are taken they will be witnesses for me.
The Prisoner, in a long address, reiterated his assertion that the captain and officers were constantly drunk during the voyage, and that the men were ill-treated; that in consequence of this they made up their minds to leave the ship, but that they did not intend to injure the captain, and would not have done so had he not resisted.
GUILTY — DEATH Recorded.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, November 26th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
BOAKER— GUILTY of Unlawfully Wounding— Eighteen Months Imprisonment .—BUCK, NORMAN, and VANDERSTEIN NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Baron Pollock.
WILLIAMS the Defence.
HUSSA ADI MAHOMET (through an interpreter). I was a sailor on board the steam ship Pekin—she came into the Victoria Docks on a Saturday—I know nothing about the days of the month—I came ashore about 6 p.m.—the lamps were alight—my little brother was with me—near the railway station where they are building I saw Cassin, who I knew as a steersman the prisoner was also a sailor on board the same ship—I saw him and eard him say that he wanted to quarrel with four men, Cassin, Alli, Dean, and this man—Alli was also known as Barlow—Dean and Alli were also sailors on board—when the prisoner went to quarrel with them I went to him, took hold of him, and told him he should not quarrel, and was taking
him away to the ship, but Cassin was passing along coming away from the ship, and the prisoner pushed me away and ran and seized hold of Cassin's clothes who said "I don't want to quarrel with you," and tried to get him to go away—they spoke together in the Malay language and I don't know what they said. (The witness spoke Hindoslanee.) Cassin pulled off his coat and said to the prisoner "You strike first"—he said "No I will not, you strike first," and then Cassin struck him on the head with his open hand, a gentle blow—after that the prisoner drew out his knife, held out his fist, seized Cassin by the hair and struck him with the knife, and in about half a minute he turned round and fell—I went and looked at him and saw a little blood from his temple and the knife sticking in his head just above the ear—I could not see the blade only the handle—I spoke to another sailor and told him to take him—when Cassin fell the prisoner used a very offensive word which it is impossible to put into English.
Cross-examined. I am not a Malay, I came from Deccan—the other three men were Malays and so was Cassin—the prisoner is a native of Siam—I saw the prisoner alone first and I saw Cassin in the middle of the road with his hands on his hips—the prisoner only struck one blow—I had not been to a public-house with him, I only met him in the road and was only with him half an hour—I did not see the knife in the prisoner's hand when he struck, but I saw it in the man's head afterwards—I never saw Malays fight with knives.
Re-examined. There were forty-three of our men on board the ship, but there were two crews—Cassin came from the ship, I noticed him when he was as far off from me as that wall—he walked as steadily as I should.
HENRY MARTIN . I am a labourer of Bell and Anchor Cottages, Victoria Dock Road—on the Saturday night I was opposite the dry dock in North Woolwich Road and saw the prisoner and other men were with him—I saw Cassin going towards him and he pulled off his jacket and went up to the prisoner—they were talking their own language which I could not understand, and the prisoner struck Cassin on the head—I did not see anything in his hand nor had he hold of him in any way—I did not see Cassin do anything to him—it went into Cassin's head and he fell—I was close to them and saw the handle of a knife which was sticking in Cassin's head just by the left ear—he did not speak after the blow—the prisoner walked away and I followed him till I met Cross and Golding, two officers, and told them to take him into custody—I then went back and found Cassin still lying on the spot where he had fallen—he was taken up and carried into a building belonging to the Bell and Anchor—neither Cassin nor the prisoner appeared at all the worse for what they had taken.
Cross-examined. When I came up other foreign sailors were standing there—I don't know what took place before I went up, but I only saw the prisoner strike one blow—the deceased was taken to the Bell and Anchor just before twelve o'clock and to the dead-house after the doctor had seen him—it turned out that he was not dead after all—I do not know how long he lay in the dead-house before he was taken to the hospital, I went away.
Re-examined. I said before the Coroner "He was stripping in the road for a fight," meaning the deceased.
STEPHEN WOODING . I am a labourer, of 5, Victoria Dock Villas North Woolwich Road—on Saturday night, 24th October, I was opposite the Dry Dock, and saw the prisoner standing on the footway, and seven or eight coloured men round him—Cassin was in the road in a fighting attitude
the prisoner done one blow—I was 10 yards off, and that one blow done him, and he fell directly—I then saw the prisoner, as I thought, in the act of cutting Cassin's throat—they said "Go away, go away," and I did not go near him; but it appears that he was trying to get the knife out—on going up I saw the knife in Cassin's head—I got hold of it, and the whole of the blade was in his head—I could not take it out because his head was on the ground—a doctor was called—I saw no blow struck except by the prisoner.
Cross-examined. The seven or eight men round the prisoner were all coloured men—I did not say before the Coroner "They were all coloured men stripped to their shirts, but not to their skins"—Cassin was the only man without his jacket.
ECCLES GOLDING (Policeman R 29). On Saturday night, 24th October, I was in North Woolwich Road with Cross—Martin came to me about 11.30 and pointed out the prisoner—I directed Cross to take him, and went with Martin to the Victoria Dock Road, where I found Cassin lying in the road on his back, and the knife still sticking in his head—the blade was completely buried in his head behind his left ear—he was insensible, and appeared quite dead—I sent for Dr. Norris, who took the knife from his head in the road, and removed him to a shed at the back of the Bell and Anchor, which they call a dead house—the doctor examined him in the shed and found he was still breathing—he found a large gash in his left arm also—he dropped a little brandy into his mouth—I went to the station and reported to Inspector White, and the man was removed to Poplar Hospital at about 6 o'clock—I read the charge to the prisoner of feloniously cutting and wounding—he said that he knew nothing about it—I found nothing on him—I measured the knife—it was rather over 4 1/2 inches long, and the tip of the blade was a little turned.
Cross-examined. When the doctor went to the dead house he believed that the man would not live five minutes—he was put there about 12 o'clock, and about 5 o'clock he was found to be alive, and was removed to the hospital.
WILLIAM CROSS (Policeman K 506). I took the prisoner by Golding's directions—on the way to the station I said "I think you have killed the other chap, man, that was with you"—he merely shuddered and said "Me? no"—I took him to the station.
ALLI MOSDEEN . I belong to Penang—I understand English—I was an able seaman on board the Pekin—there were six able seamen on board and forty-five Indians—I knew Cassin—he was about 35 years old—the prisoner was also on board the ship—I know of no quarrel between them, and I never saw them quarrelling—the voyage was three months and eighteen days—they were good friends all that time, as far as I know.
Cross-examined. I know that the Malays use knives sometimes when they are fighting with each other.
JOHN WILLIAM LAY . I was house surgeon at Poplar Hospital—at 6 o'clock on Sunday morning, 25th October, Cassin was admitted—he had a stab on his left arm 5 inches deep, and another on his head, just above his left ear—he remained insensible till he died—I afterwards made a post mortem examination—the stab on the left arm was 5 inches deep, going upwards—the wound in the head passed through both lobes of the brain, downwards to the base of the skull—I should think it penetrated 4 1/2 inches—this knife would produce it—the wound in the arm was also done by a knife, and a blunt-pointed knife.
WILLIAM WHITE (Police Inspector K). On Sunday morning, 25th Oc tober, in consequence of what Sergeant Golding said, I went to the Bell and Anchor and found the deceased alive and groaning in the dead house at the rear—Dr. Morris was attending him—it was then 3.45, and he had been lying in that dead house four hours—I said to Dr. Morris that as the man was living I thought he ought to have been removed to the hospital before, and he was removed.
Cross-examined. The doctor said "Very well, are you going to take him out of my hands," and he declined to interfere further in the matter—I have heard what the Coroner's Jury said on the matter.
By MR. BESLEY. I have no doubt that the Doctor remained with, him from 12 till 3.30.
DR. MORRIS being called, did not appear.
GUILTY of Manslaughter — Penal Servitude for Life.
MR. COOPER condtided the Prosecution; and Ma F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
WILLIAM TYLER . I am foreman to the Dock Company at West Ham—on 6th November, about 5 o'clock, the prisoner came to me at the office, where I was writing at the time, and told me that a keg of tongues was broken open, and I gave him directions to put them in the dock so as to have them coopered, which he generally did if anything was broken in the warehouse—I did not see the cask myself—I did not tell him to take any of the tongues out and put them in a handkerchief—he had no right to take any of the tongues.
Cross-examined. The head of the cask could have been put in without taking any of the tongues out, but if I had to do it myself I don't think I could have put the head on without taking something out—I can't say that the tongues were stinking—they had been there about sixteen months—they were left by some vessel which did not take all her stores on board—the Dock Company do not hold themselves responsible for those stores (MR. COOPER here withdrew from the Prosecution).
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES BARTON . I am shopman to Mr. Aaron Withers, a pawnbroker at Stratford—on 27th October, about 1.30, there was a pair of trousers hanging up in the shop on a rail by the door—I saw the prisoner about 3.30 or 4 o'clock at the corner of Victoria Street, about two minutes' walk from the shop—I spoke to him, and asked him what he had got under his arm—he said "What's that to do with you?"—I told him I should not let him go till I saw what he had got, and I found the pair of trousers wrapped in a wrapper—I took him back to the shop, sent for a constable, and gave him into custody—they were worth 9s. 6d.
By the Prisoner. I did not see you take them.
The Prisoner in his defence stated that he picked up the trousers dose by the shop— GUILTY .
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted, in July, 1868**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
47. WILLIAM SMITH (20), PETER DUFFY (25), ARTHUR BISHOP (25), ROBERT WINTER (20), EDWARD COSTELLO (20), and FRANCIS WRAGG (27), (soldiers) , Feloniously cutting and wounding John King with into to do him grievous bodily harm.
MESSRS. POLAND and Beasley conducted the Prosecution.
MAKGABET ROWLEY . I am the wife of Edward Rowley, a general dealer, of Woolwich—on 7th November, a little before 12 o'clock at night, I was in the Earl of Moira public-house, Shooter's Hill Road, Charlton, and saw three Artillerymen, of whom Duffy and Bishop are two, and a man in the Scots Greys, that was Wragg—Wragg asked me to have a glass of ale, but he had not the money to pay for it, and I paid for it myself—he then asked me for some nuts, but the landlord said "You had a glass of ale and did not pay for that"—it was 11 o'clock and the landlord said it was time to clear the house—I went out first, and the soldiers followed—a policeman named King, who was in the bar, came out last and stood on the steps—Wragg asked me for another penny for a pennyworth of nuts and I heard King say "l am a policeman," in answer to something which I did not hear—there was another soldier who I don't think was in their company—the artillery men struck King and knocked him down, and I saw Duffy and Bishop strike him with their fists and then they used their whips and then they kicked him and jumped on him—I saw five Artillery men and the Scots Grey man with his back to the door—I screamed out "Murder!" and called to the landlord to come and assist him and to the landlord's son, and Wragg said "Give him one" and two Artillery men, I can't say which because it was so dark, threw me into the ditch opposite the door of the house—I crept out at a corner of the ditch and heard Wragg say "Give the b——onions," and then he said "Give him coals"—I ran away screaming Murder!" till I got to the station.
JOHN KING (Policeman R 106). On" Saturday night, 7th November, about 10.45, I was in the Earl of Moira public-house, Charlton, in plain clothes, having a glass of ale—Wragg came in and five Artillery men after him, Smith, Duffy, Bishop, and Costello are four of them, and there was another who I believe is Winter, but I won't swear positively to him—I am positive as to the others—shortly afterwards Rowley came in with her nuts and asked whether they wanted any—the Scots Grey man asked her whether she would have a glass of ale—she said "Yes," and he called for one, but the landlord said that he had not paid for the one he had had—she said "You are a nice man to call for ale when you have not money to pay for it"—a pot of something was then called for, and the landlord said it was
time to close—they went out and I followed them out, and saw the six soldiers all round the woman as though they were trying to take away her nuts—she said "Don't take my nuts away"—one of them said "Who is he?" referring to me, and another said "It is a b——policeman"—Wragg said "Give the b——onions, kick his b——brains out"—I said "Yes, I am a police-constable, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to ill-treat that woman at this time of night on a lonely road"—the moment Wragg said "Kick the b——brains out" Duffy seized me, struck me on the side of the head and knocked me down, and the other prisoners all came round and kicked me and struck me with their whips until one of them said "I think we have given the b——enough"—I then got up and picked up this pair of gloves (produced) which were lying in the road where I was knocked down—I put them in my pocket and one of them saw me and said "'The b——has got our gloves, give the b——coals, let him have it again," and the whole six of them knocked me down and kicked me again, but I kept the gloves—they went away and I handed the gloves to Traveller, who came up, and I went up to the guard with him; we met the picket on our way with three soldiers in custody, but I don't know who they were—in the middle of the next day I found myself at the hospital with a wound on the back of my head—I was cut and bleeding, my hands were damaged, and I have been off duty ever since—I was in the hospital nine days.
Duffy. Q. How do you know me? A. I saw you in the public-house—it was not dark there—I became insensible in the guard-room.
Wraggs. I don't think he can say who knocked him down, it was very dark, it was 11.30. Witness. There were no other soldiers there but the six.
WILLIAM LEE HUXSTEY . I am the son of the landlord of the Earl of Moira—on 7th November I was in the bar when the house closed—there were five soldiers and one Scots Grey man there—Duffy and Wragg are two of them—the woman went out first, and King last—I closed the door, heard a noise, went upstairs, looked out at a window, and saw Duffy pilch into the prosecutor—he knocked him about with his fists, and knocked him down; and the others pitched into him when he was down, all but the Scots Grey—King halloaed out "Murder"—I did not notice the woman—I heard Wragg say "Give the b——onions"—he was then about 4 yards from them, and they were pitching into him—I called out "Leave off," but they would not—I ran down, went out the back way, and over a wall to the guard-room, and as I got over the wall they threw four flint stones at me—when I got over the wall the Scots Grey was at the bottom—the guard-room is 500 or 600 yards off—I fetched the Artillery picket, and as I came back with them we met three of the soldiers, about 500 yards from the public-house—the picket took them in custody; it was Duffy and two other artillerymen—they did not take the Scots Grey; he went across the fields.
Duffy. Q. How did you know me in the dark? A. By your voice—I had heard it before—I saw you pitch into him first, and you were the shortest man there—I saw you plan enough.
Wragg. Q. Had you ever seen me before that night' A. No. but you were inside the house—I am sure you are the man who used that expression about the onions.
officers, and some time after 11 o'clock the sentry reported to me cries of "Murder," proceeding from Shooters Hill road—I turned out the picket, went in that direction, and met the five artillerymen now before the Court three or four minutes' walk from the Earl of Moira public-house—they seemed in a very excited state, and they stopped still instead of coming on—I stopped them, and commenced to take down their names—I took down the names of Winter and Costello, and turned to take Bishop's name when King came up and the other two ran away—I detained Smith, Duffy, and Costello—I saw Traveller assisting King along—King identified Smith, Duffy, and Costello, and asked me to take them to the station—I said "I can't do that," and I took them to to the guard-room—I then went to the room where Winter would be, and found him just getting into bed—that was five minutes after he had slipped away—I told him to come to the guard-room with me—he asked what for—I said that I would tell him when I got there—King identified him, and I found a leave paper on him, which showed that he was on leave—I found Bishop's leave paper in the ward-room, showing that he had come in—King became very bad in the guard-room, and I ordered a stretcher, and had him conveyed to the station and afterwards to the hospital.
Bishop. Q. Did not you meet a single Artilleryman before then? A. Yes, I met you—I asked you what the row was—I stopped you just before the others.
Costello. Q. Where did you take me? A. About 300 yards from the guard room—I did not say "Halt, every man that has jackets on take him"—I believe Kent said "Take every man with a jacket on"—that was just before he was insensible—only three had jackets on.
HENRY SMITH . I am a labourer—on the Saturday night, about 11.40,1 was by the Earl of Moira with a friend and saw some Artillerymen fighting with King—I called them cowards all on one man; they had got him down and were kicking him—they said nothing to that but continued—King cried out "Murder,"-and while we were trying to get two sticks they all ran away—Traveller came up, we told him the direction in which they had gone and he went after them—I followed with King, but he fell down as he went along; he appeared very much hurt—I don't speak to the prisoners' identity, but I saw five or six and one of them had a red coat on—I passed him on the path about 20 yards before I saw the others, he was going towards Shooter's Hill, towards the barracks.
Wragg. Q. Was it me? A. I can't say.
EDMUND TRAVELLER (Policeman. A. R. 267). On this Saturday night I was at Shooter's Hill in plain clothes off duty and heard cries of murder proceeding from the Earl of Moira—I went there and saw King 10 or 12 yards from the house bleeding from the head and hands—I asked him who had assaulted him, he said some soldiers who had gone towards the camp—I went after them and overtook the picket with Smith, Duffy, and Costello in custody—King handed me this pair of gloves—he was assisted by the military authorities to the guard-room and afterwards to the hospital.
TILDERS HEADLEY . I am sergeant-major of the depot brigade of the Royal Artillery, Woolwich—these gloves are numbered 40,374, they belong to the prisoner Winter, that is his regimental number—they were shown to me on Monday at the Police Court and I saw blood on them.
Wilder. I lost those gloves five months ago, they have the name of Robinson on them.
THOMAS BUTT (Police Inspector R). On 9th November the five Artillery prisoners were handed over to me and I charged them with violently assaulting King with intent to do him grievous bodily harm, they made no answer—on the 17th Wragg was sent in and I charged him, he made no answer.
JOHN GEORGE HEADLEY . I am a surgeon of Woolwich—on Saturday night, 7th November, I was sent for to the Herbert Hospital where I found King perfectly insensible—he had a number of contused wounds on his head and a large one on the back of his head, his forehead was cut, scratched, and bleeding; his knuckles were scratched and he had various bruises on different parts of his body—he was in danger—the wounds might have been inflicted by kicking—he is out of danger now, but he will not be able to do duty for these two months.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Smith says: "I was going up to the guard room to give my leave in when I met Driver Bishop, and he said 'Come back, Ginger, there's an awful row up there.'" Costello says: "I was coming on Saturday night from Woolwich and I heard a row and a man shouting 'Murder!' and I ran as far as about 20 yards from the guard room, and a bombadier caught hold of me, and the detective said 'Take every man that has a jacket on.'" Wragg says: "On Saturday night I went to bed at 9. o'clock as usual, and I got up again at 10 o'clock or 10.30 to go to the water closet, and after leaving the closet I fell down, and lay senseless for a few minutes; I then felt better, and got up and went towards the sergeant's mess to get some brandy, and I met a non-commissioned officer of Artillery, and he said he thought the mess was closed. I then turned back and went to the Earl Moira. After being there a short time I came out and was going home, and I saw five artillerymen fighting a policeman. I looked at them a little while, and I said 'Don't kill the man, I think you have gave him enough.' I says 'Come on my onions, and let the man alone,' and I then went home to bed, and next day went into hospital."
Duffy's Defence. This woman swears that I kicked him—she said at first that she couldn't identify me.
Bishop's Defence. The man said that it was time to turn out of the public house, and I went out and heard somebody cry out" Murder!"—I met the picket, and they asked me what the row was; I said "I think it is some one fighting, it sounds like it"—he told me to go away—I went on 10 yards and met Bishop, who said "What is the row T"'—I said "There is an awful row, Ginger, don't go down."
Wragg's Defence. I could not go home without passing where the row was—I stood there for a minute or two, and then went home—I shouted to them to come away, but I was no nearer than 6 yards to them.
White and Costello received good characters.
DUFFY— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment. SMITH, BISHOP, WINTER, COSTELLO, and WRAGG— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
GRACE JOHNSON . I am the wife of William Johnson, and was lodging on the 29th October at a lodging house, No. 20, New King Street, Deptford—I had seen the prisoner during the time he had been lodging there (about
three weeks), otherwise he was a stranger to me—the factory bell rang about 8.30 in the morning, and I went into the kitchen to get my breakfast, and asked a young lad sitting by the fire for a piece of string—the prisoner was standing eating some food with a table knife in his hand—he heard me ask for the string—I said "Mind your own business," walking away up stairs to the bedroom, and as I got on the stairs he called me a b——y whore—I looked back and called him a "thing" or a "monkey," I cannot say which, and with that he up with his hand and knocked me up against the dresser, and attempted to shove a knife into me, and hit me on the left side of the head a violent back hand blow—I saw the knife in his hand, and when I came to my senses the wound was bleeding very much—I got up as well as I could, and then I went out of the side gate and saw two policemen.
RICHARD AUSTIN (Policeman R 49). On the morning of the 29th October, about 9 o'clock, I was in New King Street, Deptford, and saw the prosecutrix coming up the street with blood on her face—she told me to go to the lodging house, and I went up the back stairs and took the prisoner—the prosecutrix followed close behind and said "I give that man in charge for stabbing me"—I said to prisoner "You hear what this woman says," and he said "I didn't stab her, I did it with my hand, she called me a b——monkey"—I took him to the station—I found no knife on him—the prisoner was present when Mr. Henderson, the surgeon, dressed the wounds—the blood was streaming down her face—the wound was about an inch "long, such a wound as would be inflicted by a knife—I have known the prisoner to be charged two or three times with drunkenness—I never knew him in anything serious—he has been a hard working man.
(MR. HENDERSON:, the surgeon, was unable to attend to give evidence.)
JOHN TARRANT (by the Court). I am a gauger, and know this lodging house—I was there on the 29th October, in the kitchen, when the prisoner and prosecutrix were there—the prisoner was going up and down the kitchen eating bread and meat—he had a knife in his hand, and the prosecutrix asked for a bit of string to tie a dog up—the prisoner said "Go to your two fancy men"—she was up a few steps going into the back yard, and she came back and called him a b——monkey, which aggravated him, and he up with his left hand and gave her a back hand blow with the hand in which the knife was.
Prisoner. I had no knife.
Witness. The woman's face did not bleed just then, but she went down in the back yard, and when she came in four or five miuntes after, I saw the blood—I did not hear the prisoner call her a b——y whore.
MICHAEL MURPHY . I know the lodging house in New King Street, and was there on the 29th October—the prosecutrix and prisoner were there—I saw the prisoner using a knife cutting a bit of bread and meat, and she asked for a bit of string or a lace, I cannot say which—he said "Go to your two fancy men," and when she came back she said "What do you mean you b——y monkey?" and I saw him take up his hand and hit her a back hand blow in the face—I could not see whether it was the hand the knife was in—she went out in the back yard and came back about four or five minutes afterwards, and I never saw any blood till she came back—she ran out immediately she received the blow—I did not hear the prisoner call her any name, but only heard him speak of her "Two fancy men"—I do not Tecollect his calling her a b——y whore—I was having my breakfast, and not paying much attention.
Cross-examined. I only saw him strike one blow—I could not swear whether it was on his left or right hand, he is a left handed man.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. A. B. KELLY conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. Frith the Defence.
GESCHLINDA WOOLF . I live at 47, Green Street, Bishopsgate, and am a hawker of furs—I am a Pole, and have been only three months in England—I went into a beershop in Woolwich with my basket and furs—the public master said "Show what you have in the box"—I said "I have boas to sell"—I opened the box and showed them, and he wanted to buy one from me—the prisoners were in the bar—the man took a black one and put it in his pocket—I had three black boas, and I saw that I had only two—I said "Why do you take my goods?" and he said "Go on, I will fight you"—I said to the public master "He has got my boa, and does not want to pay me"—a policeman took him afterwards—I sold one boa to the public-house master for 1s. 4d. to give to the woman, that is, another woman—when I went into the public-house I had fifteen boas altogether, and one dozen, that is twenty-seven—when I got home I only had thirteen.
Cross-examined. I did not understand that the young woman said to the landlord "You buy the boa for me, you can buy it cheaper"—when I charged the man with stealing the boa he said it was a mistake, and I counted my boas and found I had only one gone—I had some drink with him—the public master wanted to" give me a shilling for the boa the man had.
JOHN DALDING (Policeman R R 27). I was called to this beerhouse in Woolwich, and the prisoners were given in charge by the Pole for stealing a boa—I asked him how many boas he had in his box—he said at first he had fifteen, and then he said "No, no, sixteen"—I said "Count them," and he counted them over twice, and there were fourteen there—he said that he would charge them—I said "Are you sure this man took one?" and he said "Yes "that he was selling one to the landlord, and he saw the prisoner go to the box and take one, and which he passed to the female prisoner, and she passed it to another woman, who went away with it.
GEORGE MORELAND . I keep the Free Trader beerhouse at Woolwich—I bought a boa of the Pole—the prisoners were in the bar when he came in—I gave the Pole 1s. 4d. for the boa, and I sold it to the male prisoner, and he gave it to the woman, she has it on now—the woman asked me to buy it, I could buy it cheaper, she said.
Cross-examined. When the charge of stealing was made I asked him to count them and he found the fourteen—he said he had fifteen when he came in and I had bought one—I offered the man a shilling for the boa which he said he had lost, and the male prisoner said "No, I would not give him a shilling for nothing."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution.
9th October, about 9 o'clock at night, the prisoner came and said he had come to take the apartments for his master's son, who was a merchant in Cannon Street—I showed him the room, and after that he stood talking to me in the parlour—he had a coat on his left arm—he stood very near me and I went round the table because I was suspicious of him, and I opened the parlour door because I was afraid of him—he followed me round the table and asked me for my address—he dropped something on the floor and I said "What have you dropped, a pencil?"—he said "Yes"—he followed me round the table again and stood laughing in my face—I never thought of my pocket—he wanted to go and see the garden—I did not see him do anything, but he stood very close to me with the coat over his left arm—he said that he thought the apartments would do very nicely and I was to be sure and ask a good price; his master was anxious to get his son there as he had a daughter residing at a surgeon's in the neighbourhood—he went away and I let him out—about half an hour afterwards I missed my purse from my dress pocket—it was there five minutes before the prisoner came—it contained 13s. and a foreign piece, a card, and a stiletto—I have not seen any of those things since—I gave information at the police-station directly—I afterwards saw the prisoner at Greenwich on the 15th or 16th.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am certain I had my purse five minutes before you came to the house—you are the man—my grand-daughter and husband were in the kitchen—I said before the Magistrate I was under the impression the man was going to knock me down, and I thought so—he was exceedingly civil, rather too civil—my grand-daughter brought the lamp into the parlour and it was on the table—when you went away I said "Thank God he has gone, that is a scamp"—I had put some money in the purse before you came—I did not ask my grand-daughter or my husband afterwards if they had seen the purse—I did not see or feel the purse taken.
By THE COURET. I had taken out my. purse to give my grand-daughter some money to pay some accounts about an hour before and then I put the receipts in it—she went out to pay the account, it was something more than a sovereign—I did not give her the purse—I gave her the money out of it.
LUCY SOPHIA WOOLLET . I am the grand-daughter of the last witness—I remember a man coming on 9th October—I saw him come and I saw him while he was there—the prisoner is the man—I have no doubt of it—I went out to pay some accounts for my grand-mother about two hours before the man came—she gave me some money.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was coming across the passage when the man came from the kitchen to the parlour—I brought the lamp into the parlour and went out again—I was standing at the kitchen door when the man went away—my grand-mother told me that she had lost her purse and we looked about everywhere and could not find it, and we came to the conclusion that the man must have taken it—my grand-mother suggested that.
By THE COURET. I had paid two accounts, a sovereign at one place and 2s. at another—I had one bill I think—grandmama gave me the money out of her purse—she gave me the sovereign about two hours before the man came and the 2s. about half an hour before—that was to pay for some boots—she was sitting in the parlour then—the girl brought the boots and I asked for the money to pay for them—I saw the purse at that time and she put it back in her pocket.
Prisoner's Defence. They gave me in custody on a charge and this lady
is brought to me to see if I am the man. I was placed with three men connected with the police, very much taller than me, and she was asked to select a man with whose face she was familiar. She said "I don't know, I don't wish to say," and then she was pressed by the police and her husband to look again, and then she said "The second man in the row," and I was the third man I am quite sure you will not convict an innocent person. I never took her purse, and there is no evidence to show that I did take it.
MART ANN WOOLLEY (re-called). I went to identify him—the detective asked me to go—when I went he was placed in the yard—my granddaughter saw him before I did, but I did not know that—they saw I was very nervous, and they said "Come forward, don't be afraid"—my husband was not with me—they asked me to walk down the front and look in their faces, and I said "No, I don't want to see his face again"—the Inspector said "Have you seen him there?"—I said "Yes, the second from the bottom," and he said "That is good, we never saw anything better; that is the man."
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment. There was (other case against the prisoner of a similar character.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. SAFFORD conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK JAMES SALMON . I keep the Star in the East public-honse, at East Greenwich—on Wednesday, 11th November, the prisoner was employed as a painter at my house—I noticed my bagatelle balls safe in the billiard room on that morning—after the prisoner had gone to his dinner I missed them—next morning, when he came to work, I accused him of having taken them, and told him to bring them back and I would not say any more about it—he said he did not know anything about them—I gave information to the police, a detective came, and I went to the station with him, where I saw the balls and identified them—I can speak to four of them by the spots on them—they are worth about 20s
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. It was on the Wednesday this took place—you went away, and did not come to work in the afternoon.
BENJAMIN POWLING . I am assistant to Mr. Phillips, pawnbroker, 62, High Street, Deptford—about 3.30 on the afternoon of Thursday, 12th November, the prisoner came to my shop with these nine bagatelle balls to pledge—I asked him to whom they belonged, and he said they were his—from what my foreman said to me, I went with the prisoner on the way to the station—he went into a public-house to get some beer, and escaped, leaving the balls in my possession—I went to the station, and gave a description of him to the police.
Prisoner's Defence. MR. SALMON says I was away from work; if the book was produced here, it would prove the contrary, that I was working all the day on Wednesday, having half an hour to dinner; and I never left the house from 7 o'clock in the morning till 5 in the evening.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in May, 1870*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GILL conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the
ROLAND VANHEINERS . I am the wife of James Vanheiners, and live at Pope Street Farm, Eltham—on Monday, 19th October, I was in a carriage on the Eltham racecourse—my sealskin jacket was lying in the carriage—I saw it there a little before 3 o'clock, and missed it some time afterwards—I gave information to the police—this is the jacket (produced).
Cross-examined. I was there with my little girl, and she had a sealskin jacket also lying on the same seat—that was not missed—I was standing up for the purpose of seeing the race—the jacket might have fallen out, but I should have seen it—I did not see anybody take it.
THOMAS KITNER (Detective Sergeant R 4). On Monday, October 19th, I was on duty on Eltham race course—in consequence of information I received I stationed myself at a turnstile, and saw the prisoner coming towards me with a bag with something in it—he went behind a refreshment booth—I followed him, and he went in amongst a lot of betting men, and opposite the grand stand he laid down the bag—I asked him what he had there—he said "Nothing"—I took him into custody, and he said then there was a coat inside, and that it had been given him by two men on the race course to mind—I took him to the station, and there found the sealskin jacket, wrapped up in this coat in the bag.
Cross-examined. He said the bag and its contents had been given to him by two men—I have known the prisoner as a hawker of fruit for three or four years, and never knew anything against him.
By THE COURT. It was about 4.5 or 4.10 when I saw him—he did not pass through the turnstile, he went round to the back of the booth—I did not see whether he had any fruit with him that day—he had no stand with him at that time.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Three Months Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU.
WILLIAMS the Defence.
CHARLES HUNT (Policeman X 164). On the 26th August Last, at 7.50 p.m., I rode inside the omnibus 1,304 of which the prisoner was conductor from Mount Street, Camberwell, to the Great Eastern Railway—there were seventeen inside passengers including myself, I was in plain clothes and paid my fare as an ordinary passenger—next day I rode outside the same omnibus at 8.52 p.m. from Shoreditch Church to Dover Road—there were twelve outside passengers including myself, the prisoner was conductor—I paid my fare 2d.—I made the entries in this book each time.
Cross-examined. I made seventeen journeys altogether on this road for the purpose of watching the conductors—I could not tell without referring to my book—I was also engaged for the same purpose on the route from London Bridge to the Royal Oak, I made twelve journeys on that route—I
made my entries on each occasion about a minute or so after leaving the omnibus, I always made them in the street—when I rode inside I generally sat about the middle of the bus, and when I rode outside I sat on the roof near the driver—I never saw a gentleman get outside to oblige a lady—I never heard of the police being allowed to travel free.
WILLIAM RAW (Policeman X 181). On 26th August I travelled outside the omnibus 1,304, the prisoner was the conductor—I got in at 7.57 in the evening at the Walworth Road and got out at Holywell Lane, near the end of the journey; there were seven outside passengers—I was in plain clothes and travelled as an ordinary passenger—I made an entry in my book about two minutes after I got out—next day I travelled inside the same bus at 8.47 p.m. from Shoreditch to the Elephant and Castle—there were fourteen passengers—I travelled for the express purpose of counting the passengers.
Cross-examined. I may have made fifteen or sixteen journeys on this road for this particular purpose and seven and eight on another road—on each occasion I made the entry after I got out—when inside I generally sat near the middle, and when outside on the knife board about the middle—I never saw a gentleman get outside to oblige a lady while I rode inside.
WALTER ANDREWS (Policeman X 149). On 26th August, at 9.48 in the evening, I rode inside the omnibus 1,304 from Camberwell Gate to Camomile Street, Bishopsgate—the prisoner was the conductor—there were sixteen passengers including myself—I was in plain clothes and travelled as an ordinary passenger—on 27th August I got up in the Walworth Road at 7.55 p.m. and got down at the Shoreditch Station—the prisoner was conductor—there were fourteen inside passengers including myself—I made the entry immediately afterwards—I have a note that I rode outside on that occasion, but I returned the passengers that rode inside.
Cross-examined. I was then sitting quite at the back on the roof, nearest the door, there was another constable with me—I could not tell you how many passengers there were inside on the 26th, when I got in, or where I sat—I made about fourteen journeys on this road and about twelve on another—I rely entirely on the entries in my book—I made the entries in the street almost immediately after I got out—one night it was wet, some-times passengers get from the outside to inside and from inside to outside—I don't remember getting confused as to the number of passengers.
GEORGE DOWDELL (Policeman X 335). On the 26th August I rode outside the omnibus 1,304 at 9.50 p.m. from Camberwell to Shoreditch—the prisoner was the conductor—I counted the number of outside passengers—there were twelve including myself—I was in plain clothes and paid. my fare—next day I rode outside the same omnibus with the prisoner as conductor from Amelia Street, Camberwell, at 7.55 p.m. and got down at Shoreditch at 8.25; there were four outsiders with myself—I made these entries in my book after three or four minutes after each journey as soon as I had a chance.
Cross-examined. The entries are in pencil—my book is not like the others, it is my own property—I got up very shortly after the beginning of the journey, I sat on the roof, sometimes in one place and sometimes in another—I always made these entries in the street—I never altered any of the figures; here is one place where 10.50 is written over 9.50—I travelled on this road four or five times and on another road also for the same purpose—I never remember a passenger on this road get from the inside to the outside to oblige a lady—I never did.
CHARLES CHABOT . I am an expert in handwriting—I have seen these signatures "W. Hughes" in this book and paper and I have also seen the signature on these way bills (produced)—I have no doubt they are in the same handwriting.
Cross-examined. My attention has only been drawn to the signatures—I could not now form a judgment as to the figures, I have not had time to do so, I only speak to the signatures—other experts have differed from me, but my opinion has always stood.
WILLIAM CLATWORTHY . I am a clerk in the service of the London General Omnibus Company, Limited, and am engaged at the Shoreditch Office—I have known the prisoner about six months as a conductor in the Company's service—in August last he was conductor of omnibus 1,304—we give out way bills similar to these; a sufficient number for the day's journeys; this omnibus had eight journeys each way, between Shoreditch and Camberwell—there is a place inside the door in which these forms are placed—it is the conductor's duty as each passenger pays him to mark the figure against the fare paid, at the end of the journey to put the way bill in a box at the office, and at the end of the day to make a summary of his way bills and return it with the money to the office the following morning—it is the duty of my assistant, Mr. Pilkington, to go through the way bills to see that the summary agrees with them and enter it in the book; he checks the way bills and I take the money and the summary—I have here the summary of the 7.45 journey from Camber well Gate to Shoreditch on 26th August; the entry is three 1d. passengers and fourteen 2d., making together seventeen, and the amount 2s. 7d.—the next journey, 9.48, from Camberwell to Shoreditch is stated as fifteen 2d. passengers, 2s. 6d—on 27th the 7.45 journey from Camberwell Gate to Shoreditch is two 1d. passengers and eleven 2d., 2s.—the 8.43 journey is three 1d. and thirteen 2d., making sixteen passengers, 2s. 5d.—I produce the summary for these two days and they agree with the way bills.
Cross-examined. The General Omnibus Co. receive the whole of the amount that appears here—there are twenty-one omnibuses altogether on this route; seven belong to the Company the others belong to Mr. Woods and Mr. Tibbins and they divide the profits—all the twenty-one omnibuses use the same class of way bills, they are all put into the same box—they are reversible, one on one side for the up journey and one on the other side for the down journey—as each passenger gets out the conductor has to make a mark on the way bill, that is the only way he has to keep the account—I don't know whether the two other proprietors are prosecuting their cases.
Re-examined. If a person travels free with a pass it would be the conductor's duty to put down the name and number of the pass on the way bill.
EDWARD PILKINGTON . I am a clerk in the London General Omnibus Co's. service—after Mr. Clatworthy has examined the summary, I enter into this book the amount of money received—the amounts entered on 26th and 27th August for these two journeys as received from the conductor are 2l. 3s. 6d.
and 2l. 2s. respectively—these way bills are given out in blank to the conductors.
MR. WILLIAMS submitted that there was no proof of embezzlement, there being no evidence of what fares were actually paid to the prisoner bub only of the numbers of passengers. The Recorder that it was for the Jury, wheather upon the whole evidence they were of opinion he had received more than he had accounted for. Mr. Willams further submitted that there was no proof that the money belonged to the General Omnibus Company as they shared the profits with other persons. The Recorder. "The prisoner receives the money as their servant and has to account to them; their having an agreement to divide with others afterwards would make no difference, it is their money when he receives it."
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment
MESSRS. POLATD and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT. the Defence.
CHARLES HUNT (Policeman X 164). On 31st July I travelled inside omnibus 1,236 from Kingsland Gate at 3.15 p.m. to Bang Street, Borough—the prisoner was the conductor—there were twelve inside passengers, including myself, I made an entry of the number in my book immediately afterwards—I was in plain clothes and paid my fare in the ordinary way—on 25th August I again travelled outside the same omnibus from Kingsland Gate at 9.50 p.m. to King Street, Borough—the prisoner was the conductor there were fourteen outside passengers, including myself.
Cross-examined. I made the entries in my book at the time—on 31st July 1 sat about the middle of the bus—that was the first journey—I did not travel by the same omnibus again until 25th August—I did not see any fare paid by any passenger.
WALTER ANDREWS (Policeman X 149). On 31st July I travelled outside omnibus 1,236 from the Canal Bridge in the Kingsland Road at 3.15 to the Borough—there were fifteen passengers outside with myself—I was in plain clothes and paid my fare 3d.—the prisoner was the conductor—on 25th August I again rode outside the same bus at 10.45 to the Canal Bridge, Kingsland Road—there were eighteen outside passengers, including myself—I paid my fare, 3d. on 26th August I rode inside the same omnibus at 7.40 p.m. from the Canal Bridge to the Borough—there were twenty-one passengers, including myself—I paid the full fare—the prisoner was the conductor—I made these entries in my book after each journey.
Cross-examined. On the 31st July I rode on the roof, not alongside the coachman, I can't say where exactly, nor whereabouts I sat inside on the 26th August—it was a wet night
THOMAS DOVE (Policeman X 69). On 31st July I travelled inside the omnibus 1,236 at 10.45 p.m. from Kingsland Road to High Street, Borough—the prisoner was conductor—there were thirteen passengers, including myself—I was in plain clothes—I paid my fare, 2d. or 3d.—I afterwards made a memorandum in my book.
Cross-examined. I sat on the knife board, about the centre.
GEORGE DOWDELL (Policeman X 335). On 31st July last I rode outside omnibus No. 1,236 from the Borough at 10.50 to the Canal Bridge, Kings-land Road, 11.22—the prisoner was the conductor—there were ten passengers,
including myself—I paid the full fare—I was in plain clothes and went as an ordinary passenger—on 25th August I rode inside the same omnibus at 10.42 from the Elephant and Castle to Canal Bridge—there were twenty passengers, including myself—on the 26th August I rode outside the same omnibus from Kingsland Road to the Borough at 7.30 p.m.—there were eighteen passengers, including myself—I paid the full fare, 3d.
WILLIAM RAW (Policeman X 281). On the 25th August I rode inside omnibus 1,236 from Kingsland Road at 10 p.m. to Union Street, Borough—there were seven persons inside, including myself—the prisoner was the conductor—I made a memorandum of the number immediately afterwards—I was in private clothes and paid the full fare as an ordinary passenger.
Cross-examined. I have not looked at the figures—I have no figures to compare them by.
WILLIAM CLATWORTHY . I produce the way bills of omnibus 1,236 on 31st July 3.6 from Kingsland Gate—twenty-four passengers are returned by the conductor, which amounts to 4s. 3d. in the way bill for 10.45 from the Borough to Kingsland Road—the conductor returns twenty-one passengers that way and the amount in money is 3s. 8d.—on the 25th August, 9.30 Kingsland Gate, the seventh journey, the conductor returns seventeen passengers and 3s. 2d—on the same day, 10.42 p.m. from the Elephant and Castle, the number of passengers returned is twenty-seven and the money 4s. 10d.—on the 26th August, 7.15 from Kingsland to the Borough, the number of passengers returned is thirty, twenty-six at 2d. and four at 3d., 5s. 4d.—3d. is the whole fare—all these amounts are properly carried out on the total bill—Mr. Pilkington enters the amounts in the books—I compared the money with the total bill and it was correct.
Cross-examined. The conductor has to make the entries on the way bill in the omnibus itself with a pencil, look after the passengers, take their money, and so on—I have no means of telling how many passengers he carried or whether these are correct or not.
EDWARD PILKINGTON . After the daily returns are handed in I enter the amount in a book after Mr. Clatworthy has examined them—I have the book here—the amounts entered there on the 21st July, 25th, and 26th August tally with the daily summaries—when a passenger rides free it ought to be entered on the way bill, or if he has a pass the number of the pass.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. Besley the
CHARLES HUNT (Policeman X 164). On 18th July I travelled inside omnibus No. 765, between Kingsland Gate at 4.20, to the Elephant and Castle—the prisoner was the conductor—sixteen passengers rode inside
including myself—I was in plain clothes and paid my fare in the ordinary way—I made a memorandum of the number who travelled immediately afterwards—on 20th July I rode inside the same omnibus—the prisoner was the conductor—I got in at Kingsland Gate at 11.50 a.m., and got down at the Elephant and Castle—thirteen passengers rode inside including myself—I made a memorandum of. the number immediately afterwards—on 24th July I again rode inside the same omnibus—the prisoner was the conductor—I got in at Kingsland Gate at 11.55 a.m., and got down at King Street, Borough—twelve passengers including myself rode inside—I made a memorandum of the number immediately afterwards.
Cross-examined. I. have no memory except what I have written in my book—I saw the prisoner write some of the payments on the way bill—on 18th July I wrote down sixteen, the number of passengers, at the corner of St. George's Church, where I got down—up to that time I had carried it in my head—the book was given to me by the Omnibus Co.—I put the heading for the columns at home the evening before I rode at all—no one told me to make those columns, it is my own idea—I said at the Police Court "I can't say how often I counted the passengers from Kingsland Gate to the Elephant and Castle, it might have been 150 or 200 times"—I also said "I did not notice any monies whatever paid to the conductor"—I sat about the centre of the omnibus—I made a note of where I sat.
THOMAS DOVE (Policeman X 69). On 18th July I rode outside the omnibus of which the prisoner was the conductor from Kingsland Road at 4.27 p.m., to the Borough—twenty passengers including myself rode outside—on the 20th July I rode outside by the same omnibus, from Kingsland Road at 11.55 a.m., to the end of the journey—there were ten passengers including myself—on 24th July I—travelled outside the same omnibus from Kingsland Road at 12 o'clock, to the Borough—ten passengers including myself rode outside—I was in plain clothes each time and paid my fare and afterwards made the entries in my book.
Cross-examined. I was engaged on this for several weeks, riding and making notes at different times, and in different omnibuses—I should think I had been occupied in this way for six or seven weeks altogether—I did not see Hunt at all—these books are supplied by the Company—I ruled the book and put the heading to save time in the street—I made the entries in the street in a quiet place—I have no recollection except that I know what is in the book is correct—I think it rained on one occasion, but I can't tell you when that was—I don't recollect how many children there were or how many grown up people—I know no policemen in uniform rode or I should have noticed them—I should not know the omnibus servants if they rode.
WILLIAM STROUD (Policeman X 345). On 18th July I rode inside omnibus, No. 765, from Newington Butts at 5.20 p.m. to Kingsland Gate—eleven passengers rode, including myself—I paid the full fare—I was in plain clothes—I made a memorandum immediately after—I travelled again on 20th July outside from the Borough Road at 12.55 p.m. to Canal Bridge—thirteen passengers rode outside, including myself; the prisoner was the conductor—I paid the full fare—I was in plain clothes, and made the memorandum when I got down.
Cross-examined. I have said I saw no money pass—I mean in other omnibuses besides the prisoner's—this book was supplied to me—I ruled it myself—I did it from a book which had been used previously by another
man—I put down whether they rode inside or out, but not whether they rode the whole journey—I carried it in my head while I was on the omnibus—I can't say whether children rode or whether it was raining—I did not see any dispute about the fares.
WILLIAM RAW (Policeman X 281). On 18th July I travelled outside omnibus 765, from St. George's Church, Borough, at 5.23 p.m. to Englefield Road, Kingsland Road—the prisoner was conductor—nineteen passengers rode outside, including myself—I was in private clothes—I rode inside the same omnibus on 20th July—the prisoner was again the conductor—I got in at 1 p.m. at Union Street, Borough, and rode to Canal Bridge, Kingsland Road—twenty-two passengers rode inside, including myself—I was in plain clothes—I paid the full fare, and made a memorandum immediately after I got out.
Cross-examined. I entered in a book supplied by the Company—I have no recollection of anything occurring on those journeys except what I have put down—I have been engaged at this several times during the last year—it may be as many as five or six weeks; riding in different omnibuses—I occupied my time during the whole day doing it—I ruled the form on the book—that was my own idea—"Entered at" means getting on the omnibus as well as getting inside—the other officers had books like this—I lent them the form to copy—when I put the number down I was about 70 yards from the Canal Bridge, I should think, in the street—the omnibus was out of ray sight—I wrote the whole entry right across at the same time.
GEORGE DOWDELL (Policeman X 335). On 24th July I travelled by omnibus 765—the prisoner was the conductor—I rode outside—I got up at Canal Bridge, Kingsland, at 4.24, and got down at the Borough at 5.11—. eleven passengers rode outside, including myself—I was in plain clothes, and paid the full fare—I made this memorandum immediately after I got down.
Cross-examined. I have been on other occasions—I ruled my book myself—I have no other recollection beyond what I have in the book—one of the men showed me a form in the first instance—I wrote the one entry all at one time—I did not write the heading at the same time—I did not think it was necessary to write the heading in ink—I made the entry in the street very shortly after I got off the omnibus—no one was present—the omnibus was out of sight.
WALTER ANDREWS (Policeman X 149). On 24th July I rode in the omnibus of which the prisoner was the conductor—I got in at the Canal Bridge at 4.20 p.m., and rode inside to the Borough—twelve passengers rode, including myself—I was in plain clothes, and paid my fare as an ordinary passenger—I afterwards made an entry in this book.
Cross-examined. I have no recollection except the entry I made in the book—I made the entry in the street.
CHARLES CHABOT . I have seen the prisoner's signature, and have examined the way bills and daily summaries—the signatures to those way bills and daily summaries are in the same handwriting as the signature on the paper produced, to the best of my belief—I have no doubt at all about them.
WILLIAM CLATWORTHY . The prisoner has been a conductor in the Company's service about five months—I have the prisoner's way bill for 18th July, fifth journey, 4.25 from Kingsland Gate to the Elephant and Castle—
he has returned thirty-two passengers, and the money carried out is 5s. 8d.—I have the way bill for the 5.20 journey, the other way from Newington Butts to Kingsland Gate—he has returned twenty-six passengers and carried but 4s. 8d.—on the 20th July, 11.50 journey, from Kingsland Gate to the Elephant and Castle, he has returned twenty-one passengers, and the money is 4s.—on the same day, 12.53 from the Elephant and Castle to Kingland Gate he has returned twenty-four passengers, 4s. 11d.—on the 24th July, journey 11.55, he has returned nineteen passengers, and carried out 3s. 6d.—on the same day, journey 4.20, he has entered sixteen passengers, and carried out 3s.—I also produce the summaries for those three days—I have examined them, and find that the money referred to in those way bills is accounted for in the summaries of 18th, 20th, and 24th July—the money is returned the following day with the summary, and I examine it to see if it is correct and agrees with the way bills, and then I hand them to Pilkington to write the amount in the book—if a person travels free it is the conductor's duty to put it on the way bill and the number of his pass.
Cross-examined. Each conductor makes eight journeys a day on that line of road, sixteen times over the ground—the prisoner came to us with a very good character.
Cross-examined. I am at the Shoreditch office—I don't know how many offices the Company have altogether—I don't know that there is any register book of the persons who are entitled to travel free—I don't know that they always allow the police to travel free.
The prisoner received a good character.
Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth and 'good character.— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD SAMUEL WHITING . My father keeps the Hercules public-house, Hercules Buildings, Lambeth, and I manage his business—on 26th October an old man came in about 8 o'clock in the evening—he gave me 3l. in money, and I gave him this cheque—it is not in the same state now as when I gave it to him—the "Three" has been altered into "Thirty," and the "under 20l. "has been made "under 40l.;" an additional "0" has been added to the money—the remainder is in my own handwriting—I was sent for to the London and Westminster Bank about 3.15 the next day—I saw the prisoner there—I said the cheque was a forgery, and sent for a constable—the prisoner was taken off to the police-station at once—at the police-station he gave a rambling account that he had got the cheque. from an old man who was drunk—he said he left the old man in a public-house in Lambeth Walk, and that he could neither read nor write.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I can't swear that you mentioned the name of Dryden—I have an idea you said something about Dryden, but I have no distinct recollection.
WILLIAM DAVID NICHOLLS . I am a cashier in the Lambeth Branch of the London and Westminster Bank—on 27th October, about 3 o'clock, the prisoner presented this cheque—I did not pay it—I saw it had been tampered with—I said "What should you like?"—he said "Gold"—I said
Who do you bring it from?"—he said "Gilham "(or "Gillingham"), who keeps a public house in Lambeth Walk"—I wrote on the cheque, and said "I think I shall have to trouble you to take this back"—he said "Oh yes; it is for a Mr. Driver through Mr. Gillingham"—at that moment Mr. Whiting entered the Bank, and the prisoner was given into custody and taken to the station—he had a bag in his hand, to put the gold in.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I went to the back of the Bank, but you still remained—I kept my eye on you the whole time I was away, for it was only the other side of the office—I should say you certainly had not an opportunity to go out, because if you had attempted to go I should have called to people to stop you—I said I was surprised you did not attempt to get away.
WILLIAM POPE (Policeman L 72). I took the prisoner into custody at the London and Westminster Bank—he said that an old man between fifty and sixty gave him the cheque at a public-house in Lambeth Walk—he said the old man was so drunk he could not come himself, and asked him to go and cash the cheque for him—I afterwards went to the public-house he described to me, but could not find any such man—when the Inspector asked him at the station he said he could neither read nor write.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You mentioned the name of Dryden or Driver—I went round to your employers-, and found you had been doing nothing for the last ten months; they gave you a reference for the time you were there—I found you gave a correct name—I have not found out anything different since you have been locked up to what you said then.
The Prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate, and also in his defence stated that the cheque had been given to him. in a public-house by an old man, to cash, who told him where the bank was, and said that he was too drunk to go himself; that he went to the bank with the cheque, not being aware that there teas anything wrong with it, and that he had given a description of the man, which was all he was able to do.
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE RICHARD ROBINSON . I live at 57, Cleveland Street, Fitzroy Square—I am at present out of business—on the night of 15th October, at a little after 6 o'clock, I was standing under the Waterloo Bridge, in the Waterloo Road, for shelter—an old gentleman came up to me—the prisoner was standing behind with another man—they were strangers—we got into conversation, and I went into a public house with the old gentleman—the prisoner and the other man followed—the prisoner produced a roll of what appeared to be bank notes, and some coins in a purse, and said he had come in for a lot of money, and had drawn 200l. that day—he said he was a stranger in London, and had come from Yorkshire, that he had had three solicitors, and after the case was over, they had won the day for him, they asked him what he was going-to give them for their trouble besides the expense, what he was going to make them a present of—one solicitor showed 30s., and he doubled it—he gave one a guinea hat and the other a ring—the old gentleman then asked me what money I had on me—I told him I had 7l. 15s.—he then asked me to treat them to something—
I did so—I pulled out my money, which was loose in my pocket, and hesaid "Don't show your money to everybody, you don't know who is about"—the prisoner was willing to stand a bottle of port, but the old gentleman declined and said we had had quite sufficient—we then got into a lengthy conversation, and the prisoner wanted me to show so much money, and he would double it—he asked me how much I could get—he said he was going home by the 11 o'clock train to Yorkshire the following morning, and his luggage was up at the station on the platform—the old man took out some notes and coin in a purse, and the prisoner said he would double what I could show—I said "I won't show it to-night, bat I will try and get some more money by to-morrow morning"—I told him I had 7l. 15s. in my pocket, and by going home I could get another 5l.—the old man said "What is your watch and chain worth?" and I said I had not brought it with me—he wished me to hand him the 7l. 15s., and he said "This gentleman will double it"—that was the prisoner—I said "We had far better wait till the next day, I should be able to get 20l. perhaps"—the old man said "Now is your time to make some money if you choose, I will be a friend to you, that man has a lot of money, and we might just as well have it as any one else"—I told him my father was a clergyman at Sunbury, and I could get some more money by the morning—I said I would write to my. father—the old man said "Don't write to him, keep it secret"—afterwards he said "All right, don't part with your money to night, don't show it, but come on the following morning to Great Portland Street, we will meet there at 9.30"—they did not say they were strangers to one another, but they appeared to be—the prisoner could hear all that was said and so could the third man—the old man said it would be a good thing for me if I could get 20l. by the next morning, so as to get it doubled, and he would lend me a 10l. note or so, in order to make more of it—I said I would be at the appointed place by the following morning at 9.30—we had something more to drink, and left the public house, and they took oaths that they would be at Great Portland Street at 9.30; they crossed hands and said "So help me God I will be there"—they asked me to take the oath, but I said I would be there, and I did not take it—the prisoner then bade the old gentleman and myself good night, and he and the other man walked towards the station—the other man did not take any part in the conversation, but he overheard everything that was said—I left the old gentleman by the York Road—I bade him "Good night," and watched him go down to the station and join the other two—they were in conversation and put up their hands and I thought they were showing how they took the oath together—they were under the arch—I went and spoke to a constable—he went up to them and the prisoner and the other man ran down Church Street and the old man passed me, crossed the road, and went down the other street—the constable ran down Church Street and brought back. the prisoner—I recognised him and charged him—he said he did not know me—I should say I was with them from first to last about three quarters of an hour or an hour—I am positive the prisoner was one of the men—I charged him with trying to obtain money from me.
DAVID CRIGG (Policeman L 79). I was on duty at Waterloo Station on the night of 15th October—Robinson came across the road and spoke to me—he pointed out the prisoner and two other men who were in conversation under the Railway Arch—I went towards them and when I got with in
about two yards two ran across the road down Church Street and one ran behind me down the Waterloo Road—I pursued the two into Church Street and caught the prisoner—I said "You come back, I want you"—I brought him back and the prosecutor identified him as being one of the three—I took him to the station, searched him, and found this metal chain attached to the lining of his waistcoat pocket, a pair of spectacles, half-a-crown, and a shilling.
THE RECORDER was of opinion thai in the absence of any overt act there was not sufficient evidence.
MESSRS. METCALFE, Q. C., and SLADE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GOODMAN the Defence.
CHABLES JAMES STEPHENS . I am attached to the Missing Letter Branch of the General Post Office—on 16th November I addressed a letter to "Mr. John Latrielle, 99, Lorrimore Street, Walworth, Surrey"—I placed ninety postage stamps in that letter and put them in an envelope in the usual way—I sealed it with gum and also with sealing wax—I posted the letter about 12.15 at the South Eastern District Office, having previously drawn the attention of the inspector to the letter—that letter should have been delivered by the prisoner in Lorrimore Street between 2 and 3 o'clock the same afternoon—at that time I went to Mr. Latrielle's house and waited behind the door—about 3 o'clock the prisoner knocked at the door and 1 saw him place some letters in the hands of Mr. Latrielle's sister—I immediately took possession of them—I examined them, but the letter which I had addressed to Mr. Latrielle was not there—I came out into the street shortly after and saw police constable Butler, and after waiting twenty-five minutes I saw the prisoner come down the street—we walked in the direction he was going and followed him home to 24, Cardigan Street, Kennington Lane—I went and knocked at the door—it was immediately opened and I walked in—he was sitting at the table—I said "I think your name is Meads"—he said "Yes"—I said "I am attached to the Post Office; I wish to ask you two or three questions; have you finished your delivery?" V—he replied "Yes"—I said "Have you delivered the whole of your letters?"—he said "Yes, with the exception of two or three which I can't deliver" he gave me four letters from his breast pocket—Mr. Latrielle's letter was not amongst those—he explained his reasons for the non-delivery of the four letters, the first was an unoccupied house, the next was not known as directed, the third was addressed 49 or 59, Lorrimore Lane and the party was not known at either place, and the fourth one was at Camden Town—I said "A letter addressed to Mr. John Latreille, 99, Lorrimore Street, is missing; do you know anything about it?"—he replied "No"—I said "Have you got it about you?"—he said "No"—I then directed the officer to search him, and I saw him take from his trousers' pocket a pocket handkerchief, and underneath that was the letter which I had been speaking to him about, crumpled up, doubled into three—I said "That is the letter that is missing; how came it in your pocket?"—he said "I don't know; it must have dropped there,—he was then taken into custody—the letter was opened before the magistrate, and the stamps were found in it—Mr. Latrielle advertises recipes to
produce whiskers and moustaches, and he has a large number of letters; and in consequence of losses I had to investigate the mutter.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate there was no difficulty in feeling the stamps in the letter, and there would not have been—I enclosed a written letter, and put the stamps inside the sheet of note paper—I have learnt since the prisoner has been in custody that he has been in the army in India about eighteen years—he would not have been employed by the Post-office unless he was of good character—I have not heard of any accident that he had in India, or that he fell from a camel and injured his head—I have got three of the letters which he accounted for not delivering, the fourth was re-directed—I don't attach any fault to him for the non-delivery of those letters—there was nothing in the pocket the letter was taken from but his handkerchief—he made no difficulty about being searched—he seemed to be. a little nervous.
SAMUEL REED . I am Inspector of letter carriers at the South-Eastern District office—on 16th November I took this letter from the letter box at 12.15—I stamped it with the date stamp at the back, and placed it with about fifty letters, which were tied up and placed in the Walworth letter bag, and that bag was tied up and placed in the Kennington bag, which was tied and sealed—I saw the bag despatched.
CHARLES FILMER . I am overseer at the Kennington Branch Post-office—the prisoner was a letter carrier in that office—on the afternoon of the 16th of this month he was on duty for mid-day delivery—he would take the letters out received at the Kennington office at 12.45, and take them out for delivery about 1.15—if he had any letters which he could not deliver, it would be his duty to endorse at the back the reason why he could not dispose of them, and then tie them up together and post them in a pillar box, or take them to a receiving-house for a further trial—he would know that as postman.
Cross-examined. I have not noticed that the prisoner has been forgetful at times—I have not had to call him to account for little acts of forgetfulness.
EDWIN BUTLER I am a police constable attached to the Post-office—on 16th November I saw the prisoner go to 99, Lorrimore Street, Walworth, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon—he delivered some letters there, and then went into a public-house in the same street—he remained there about twenty minutes—I saw him leave, and I and Mr. Stephens followed him to his house—about 4.30 we went in and saw him—I heard Mr. Stephens question him about a letter, and I searched him—I found this letter, addressed to Mr. Latrielle, in his trousers' pocket—it was unopened, but crumpled up as it is now—it was underneath his handkerchief—his tunic was unbuttoned when I searched him, but when he was delivering the letters he had it buttoned up, and had his belt on—the skirts of his tunic quite covered the pockets—Mr. Stephens examined the letter, and told the prisoner it was the one he had been asking about, and he asked, him how he accounted for it being in his pocket—he said he did not know, it must have dropped there—I charged him with stealing it, and he made no reply.
Cross-examined. There is Lorrimore Street and Lorrimore Road—they are both long streets, and run parallel with each other.
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. Straight the Defence.
MICHAEL DODD (Policeman L 138). On the night of the 25th of October I was called by Catherine Vann to 4, Victoria Court, Broadwall—I saw Henry Vann and his wife standing there—I went inside, and was shown a bed in the back parlour, it was soaked with water, and a window looking into the back yard was broken—I returned to the front door and saw the prisoner, he was bleeding from the forehead—Mrs. Vann said she wished to charge him with breaking the window—I persuaded her to take out a summons, and also to send for the landlord to see the damage that was done—the prisoner charged her with striking him on the head with a poker at the front door—she said she had not struck him at all at the front door, but she had struck him at the back window—as the prisoner was bleeding, I took the charge against Mrs. Vann—I asked if there were any persons present who saw it done, and two women came forward and said they saw it done—Mrs. Bassett was one—I attended at the Police Court next morning, and heard the prisoner cross-examined—I afterwards went to Vann's house and saw the wall between his house and Cole's—I should say it was about from 4 to 5 feet high.
Cross-examined. I did not know Mrs. Vann before that night—I don't know that she has since been charged with an assault—there was a deal of blood on the prisoner's face—there was a scar, but it was an old one, and had re-opened.
TEMPLE MARTIN . I am one of the clerks at the Southwark Police Court—I was present on 26th October when the charge against Mrs. Vann was heard—I took a note of Cole's evidence—this is it (reads: "James Cole, 3, Victoria Court, Lambeth, costermonger, says, 'The prosecutrix is a neighbour—last night she and my wife were quarrelling—I went out to part them, and as soon as I got to the door I was knocked down by the prosecutrix with a poker—I had not laid hands on her; she hit me twice with it.
Cross-examined. I was not in the back yard at all—I never touched the window—I did not throw water inside."
HENRY VANN . I live at 4, Victoria Court, Broadwall, and am a stoker—on the evening of the 25th October I was in my front room, and heard Mrs. Cole speaking to my wife; I believe my wife answered her again—after that, Mrs. Cole made use of some unpleasant expressions to my wife—I came to the front door, and heard the prisoner trying to take his wife away—she did not go away—she called my wife several foul names, and my wife told her to go away—after that the prisoner came to my front door, and tried to get in—I pushed him back, and shut the door—he kicked the door, and tried to push it in—at that time my wife had no stick or anything in her hand—no blows were struck at the front door at all—the prisoner went away from the front door, and the next I saw of him he was coming in at my back door, that opens into our yard—I pushed him away, and shut the door; he then pushed up the window and tore the curtain down, and tried to get in at the back window—I believe my wife hit him with a stick to keep him out—he then threw a washing tray with some water on the bed—I sent my daughter for a constable—the prisoner, hearing that, got over his back wall again—at the time my wife struck him with the stick he had hold of the bedstead, and was trying to get in at the window, and he said he would scatter her brains out and ransack the place—when the constable came, he charged my wife with striking him with a
poker—she had no poker in her hand—the stick she hit him with had a knob to it; she hit him with the knob end.
Cross-examined. I did not hear the prisoner say to my wife that she was a foul-mouthed woman, and it was a great pity she could not keep a still tongue.
CATHERINE VANN . I am the wife of the last witness—on this night the prisoner's wife and I had some words—the prisoner came and pulled her away; and then came back, and said "Is that b——mare interfering with you again?"—she said "Yes"—he said "Where is her b——man? I will fight him"—my husband slammed the door in his face—he then came round to the back—my husband pushed him out, and fastened the door; he then rose my bedroom window up and tried to pull himself in by the bedstead, and said "You b——mare, I mean doing for you to-night"—I said "If you do, I will mark you," and I struck him with the stick on the left arm—he stooped down and picked up a tray with some water, and threw it on the bed where my baby was lying, and drenched the bed with the water—I struck him again with the stick several times, no less than ten or twelve times, every time he tried to get in—my little girl called out "The police are coming," and as he was going I struck him very hard on the back, for I had a fair blow at him—the constable came, and I charged the prisoner with breaking my window and violence and threatening me; and then he charged me with hitting him with a poker at the front door I did not strike him at the front door—I did not use a poker that evening; if I had had one I would have used it.
Cross-examined. I have cut open the head of a man named Moore, not with a poker, with the same stick, he deserved it—I might have given the prisoner more than twelve blows—I did not count them.
CATHARINE VANN, JUNIOR . I am the prosecutor's daughter—I saw the prisoner when he came to the front door—my father shut the door against him—my mother did not strike him at the front door, she had no poker or stick with her at that time—when he tried to come in at the back window she hit him with a stick.
Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury— Two Months' Imprisonment.
No evidence was offered.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
61. GEORGE THORNE HAMMOND (31), PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling and stealing 10s., and other sums, of Thomas Shepherd, his master, and also to conspiring to obtain money by means of false pretences— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. THORNE COLE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILDEY WRIGHT. the Defence.
Before Mr. Baron Pollock.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 14TH DECEMBER, 1874.