CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SECOND SESSION, HELD DECEMBER 14TH, 1874.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS & SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, December 14th, 1874, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. DAVID HENRY STONE, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir JOHN RICHARD QUAIN , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; The Hon. Sir RICHARD PAUL AMPHLET , Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE , Knt., and WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q. C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir THOMAS WYATT TRUSCOTT , Knt., and JAMES FIGGINS Esq., 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. SECOND 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, December 14th, 1874.
Before Mr. Recorder.
PLEADED GUILTY — To enter into recognizances to appear and receive Judgment when called upon.
MR. STRAIGHT, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
There being no proof of an actual deficiency in the amount of money received, the Jury were directed to find the prisoner
NOT GUILTY .
KING and KNOTZ PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. ST. AUBYN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against
VERNON— NOT GUILTY .
King and Knotz received good characters, and King was recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.
KING— Three Months' Imprisonment.
KNOTZ— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Rogers, and MR. RIBTON defended Roberts.
the evening, I left my horse and cart standing at Weston Street, Dartford—I was absent about ten minutes, and when I returned I missed my horse, cart, and harness—I saw the cart again at the Hackney Police Station on the Saturday week following, the 21st—my horse I saw at Peckham Green yard on Thursday, the 26th—I have never seen the Harness—the horse was what I call a brown, some call it a bay—it was a dark bay—there was a wrapper in the cart when it was taken, and a rug which I had thrown across the horse—the value was something like 40l. altogether.
WALTER TILNEY (Policeman 63). On Monday morning, 16th November, I found a horse straying in Gordon Road, Peckham—it had no harness on—I took it to the Green Yard—about ten days afterwards, the 26tb, I think, it was shown to the prosecutor, and he identified it.
CHARLES CRISP (Policeman N 417). On Thursday, the 19th November, between 10 and 11 o'clock in the morning, I was in Chatsworth Road, Priory Fields, Hackney—I saw Rogers there—there was a grey horse and a roan mare there—the mare was hobbled—Rogers stooped down in front of her legs and did something to her—he then walked away—between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon Rogers and Roberts came to the same place and looked at the mare; they went away again, and I hid in a shed—between 8 and 9 o'clock that night the prisoners and two other men came there—at that time there was a cart behind the shed and some harness—the cart was the same which was afterwards identified by Mr. Shackleton—Roberts brought the roan mare up to the cart, which was close to the shed where we were—the other men harnessed it; Rogers had hold of the bridle and put it on, and they led it away—as they led it away, I went out with Chapman and Howsden, the constables, who were with me—we commenced to on after the cart, and the prisoners and the others ran away—I stopped the horse and cart—I afterwards saw Roberts brought back by Chapman—next day I went to Smithfield, where I saw Rogers, and took him into custody, and told him it was for being concerned with others in the unlawful possession of a horse and cart, he said "All right, let me walk in front, I don't want to be shown up to my pals"—the night of the 19th November was a bright moonlight night.
Cross-examined by MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. They all ran away as fast as they could—I don't know that Rogers is lame, I know he is not the best on his pins for walking or running either; he was about 60 yards from us—I am not a fast runner, but I went as quick as I could—I knew Rogers lived at Homerton, but I did not know that night where it was—I have seen him with a horse on the fields—I did not know that the grey horse was his at the time—I know it now.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. It was a common where the cart was where any one could put horses—the roan mare which was hobbled, and Rogers's grey horse was there—I first saw Roberts between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon with Rogers—they walked into the field together, and they looked at both the horses—I did not hear any conversation when they came with the other two men at 9 o'clock—Rogers brought the roan mare up, and it was harnessed.
GEORGE CHAPMAN (Policeman N 376). I was in the shed on Thursday, the 19th November, with Crisp and Howsden a little before 9 o'clock at night—I saw the prisoners and two other men come there—Roberts took a cord off the roan mare, and she was led up close to the shed where I was—I could have touched them—the cart was brought from the corner, and the
mare was put into the cart and harnessed—when the cart started we went after them—when they saw us following them they went one way and the horse and cart the other—I followed Roberts round a clump of buildings—I went through a garden and got out first, and caught him—I told him I should take him into custody for the unlawful possession of a horse and cart—he said he did not know anything about it—it was about a quarter of a mile from the shed to where I took him into custody—I took him to the station—it was a light night—I was reading a newspaper while I was waiting there, it was that bright—I went with Crisp the next day to Smith-field, when he took Rogers into custody.
Cross-examined. I had the Standard, and read it by the moonlight by the shed door—it was a little before 9 o'clock, and it was light enough to read the newspaper—I could see that they ran pretty fast, and I ran fast too—Rogers said after he was taken that he had a horse on the fields, and had been there twice that day.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. The cart was outside the shed before the mare was put in—they were not right off the ground when the cart was stopped—they went about 60 yards before they saw us—they had not got into the road, they were making for Pond Lane, and were about 10 or 15 yards from it.
EDWARD HOUSDEN (Policeman N 568). I was in the shed also and saw the two prisoners and two other men come there—I saw Rogers put the bridle on the horse, and Roberts was assisting to put on the saddle—I ran after Rogers, who ran along side of the off wheel—I followed him until I slipped and fell, and I then lost sight of him—I saw him distinctly that night—I swear that—I was present the next morning when he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. I saw Rogers about 9.35—I knew him by sight;
GEORGE HARDING FIELD . I live in Chatsworth Road, Stepney—on Thursday morning, 19th November, about 7.45, I saw Rogers and another man—they went into a piece of ground which is called the Crescent, where there was a grey horse and a roan mare, which I thought was a bay—they went and unhobbled her, and took her out of the ground a quarter of a mils towards Mr. Brandon's—I followed and saw a cart turned upside down against a shed—I pulled it up, and found a set of harness in it—there had been a name on the cart, but it was scratched off—two men came up to me at the time and said "Holloa, you did not find the plant first"—I know who they were, and I gave their names—they were not the two prisoners—I saw the roan mare about a quarter of a mile from the shed—she was in a good condition, she had a good deal of mud on her, and had sweated a good deal, and I could not tell what colour she was—she had four new shoes on, but no farrier's name' on the shoes—I had never seen her before—I saw her again at the Worship Street Police Court.
Cross-examined by MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. I examined the mare round—it was 7.45 in the morning when I saw Rogers with another man—I have never been charged with anything—I was never charged at Hackney with obtaining goods by false pretences—that is a mistake.
EDWARD JOWETT SHACKLETON (re-called). I saw the cart which has been spoken about, and identified it as my cart which I had lost on the 13th—I had had it about a week or ten days—it was new, except the axle and springs—the name was partly scratched off when I saw it.
Witnesses for Rogers.
CHARLES MEEKING . On 19th November I saw the prisoner Rogers between 9.30 and 10 o'clock in the morning in the Priory fields—he left there with his own black pony—I knew that he had two horses for sale the next day.
Cross-examined. I am speaking of Thursday, the 19th—I remember it, because I had a horse exercising there—I did not do that every day, but two or three times a week—I am not in Rogers' employ—I went up before the Magistrate, but I was not examined.
Re-examined. I heard he was in custody on the Saturday morning.
WILLIAM YEO . On the 19th November I went to Mrs. Rogers' house, 25, Digby Road, at 8.45—I called James Rogers at his house, and he came out about 9.15 with his brother Samuel, and I went to the stables to clip a horse belonging to James Rogers—Samuel Rogers waited about ten minutes in the stable with me, and then went away—he came back to the stable at 11 o'clock with a black cob in harness, and fetched away a load of carrots—I saw him again at 3 o'clock at his brother's stable, where he remained till 3.45, when he left to have his tea—the stable is in Digby Road, Homerton—I know that Rogers has bad feet and has difficulty in walking.
SUSANNAH HUSBAND . I know Rogers by sight—on the night of 19th November, about 7.45, he came to me for some harness which had been left to be mended with my son—my son was out, and the prisoner waited about ten minutes in the shop, and then he said it was not worth while waiting; he would come in again in a quarter of an hour, and see if my son was at home—he came back about 7.55, and stopped till about 8.10, it might have been less or more.
Cross-examined. I did not go before the Magistrate.
ALICE RILEY . I am the wife of Henry Riley, 71, Palace Road, Wells Street, Hackney—I saw the prisoner Rogers on the 19th November—he came into my shop about 7.50, and he went out about 8.30—I live opposite to Mrs. Husband—he went there to take some harness to be mended, he told me when he came in—he came to me twice, and left for the last time at 8.30.
Cross-examined. It was on a Thursday evening—he had been at my shop many times' before—I heard on the Friday evening late that he had been taken—my husband was at the market at the time he was taken—I attended at Worship Street, but I was not called—the defendant was represented by a solicitor.
Re-examined. I heard he was taken into custody the day after he had been to my place.
JAMES ROGERS . I am the prisoner's brother—I remember seeing him on the 19th November, about 7.15 in the evening—he left me about 7.45—I met him again at 8.40 at a coffee-shop in Wells Street, and went home with him—he remained there till 9.15, cleaning a set of harness, and then he asked me to help him carry the harness to the stable, and I went with him—we went to the Duke of York, and then went with the harness to his stables in Brooksby Street—we put the harness in there, and went back to the Duke of York, and got back home about 10.30.
Cross-examined. The harness he was cleaning was a set he had bought of a fishmonger on the Monday or Tuesday—he had two horses, a black one and a grey one—he had the black one home on the Friday before—I
never saw the prisoner Roberts before—I never saw him in my brother's company—I was not called before the Magistrate.
JANE ROGERS . I am the prisoner's mother—he has always suffered from bad feet, and has difficulty in walking—he is not able to run—he slept at home on the night of the 19th November—he was at home during the evening till 7 o'clock, and he came in again at 8.45, and stopped till 9.15, when he took the harness down to his stables—I went to bed about 10 o'clock, and he came in with my other son, James, soon after.
Cross-examined. He came in about 8.45 and stopped till 9.15—I did not look at the clock, that was as near the time as I could tell—I was at the Police Court when my son was brought up there on this charge—I was not called as a witness, no witnesses were called in I think.
Cross-examined. I was first reminded that I had seen him outside the public-house on the Friday morning when I heard he was locked up—I told Mrs. Rogers that I had seen him on the Thursday night—when I had heard on the Friday evening that a charge had been made against him I remembered then that I had Been him.
Rogers received a good character.
MR. STRAIGHT stated that after the evidence he would not press the case against Rogers and an acquittal was taken as to him.
Witnesses for Roberts.
GEORGE CHAPMAN (re-called by MR. RIBTON). I followed Roberts from the shed—I saw him run through the fence and I went through as well into the nursery garden—I did not lose sight of him for more than a minute when he bobbed down in the bushes—he went through one part of the fence and I went through another and apprehended him—there is a sort of style there—I got out before he did and he was walking towards me—I walked alongside of him a few yards before I laid hold of him—he had a boil on his face and there was a patch, I saw it when he was harnessing the horse—I said that at the Police Court—he had a patch on his face when I stopped him—he was coming towards me from the direction of Stepney—I was waiting for him.
By MR. STRAIGHT. I had not seen him before he brought the horse up to the shed—I saw then that he had a patch on his face—he was out of breath when I came up to him—I saw him get through the fence and I got through a few yards lower down and he came towards where I had got through.
CHARLES BRITTEN . I am a baker at 9, Friar Street, Blackfriars Road—I know Roberts—I was at Kingston Fair on Friday, 13th November—I saw Roberts there the whole of the day up to dusk—he had got a barrow there with cocoanuts—I don't know where he slept that night.
Cross-examined. I met him occasionally while I was round the fair—I saw him for about three hours in between till dusk—Kingston Fair is both a horse and pleasure fair—they are close together.
ALFRED STANFORD . I keep the Running Horse at Kingston—I remember Kingston Fair, it was on Friday, 13th November—I saw Roberts at my house that night, he slept there—he went to bed about 11 o'clock—I saw him in the evening between 6 and 7 o'clock when he took the bed—he had his barrow and cocoanuts with him—I saw him having his breakfast about 9 o'clock the next morning—he said he wanted the bed that day and he was to let me know, and I sent my little girl and he sent a message back—he did not stop there that night—the last I saw of him was on the Saturday morning about 9 o'clock.
Cross-examined. Kingston Fair lasts three or four days.
JAMES POWELL . I live at Flying Horse Yard, Blackman Street, Borough, and am a mat maker—I was at Kingston Fair on Saturday, the 14th November—I saw Roberts at the fair with some cocoanuts—I got there in the morning time and he was there then—I left the fair about 10.40 to catch the 10.50 train—I left him there then—he was with his barrow and was about to put his things up—I saw him the next day, Sunday, at my house in the Borough—I went again to the fair on Monday and he was there the whole day—I came up to Waterloo station with him where we arrived about 10.50—I left him about 12.30—I did not see him on the 17th—I saw him on the 18th at his father's garden in Victoria Place, Luke's Fields, Walworth.
CHARLES BRITTEN (re-called). I saw the prisoner on Thursday, the 19th, he came past my gates before I went to my dinner, about 1.30 or 1.45—I was in the stables, and the gates were open, and he looked in and said "Halloo, how do you do?" and one or two words passed, and he went away—that was the last I saw of him till this moment.
SAMUEL TREVOR . I am a wood cutter—on the 19th November I saw Roberts—he came to the George public-house about 2 or 2.35—I was there—I should think he remained an hour, and we started away together to go to Peckham—we got there about 4 o'clock—we went in May's cart—I went there for the purpose of buying a cart, and when I got there it was sold—I was not one of the men that ran away—I parted with him about 6.30 at the Kent Road Bridge—I was going to buy Jem Thomas' cart—I don't know the shed where the horse and cart were found.
Cross-examined. I was going to buy a cart, and when we got to Peckham it was sold—the man it belonged to, Jem Thomas, told me it was for sale; it was not the prisoner told me the cart was for sale—I met him at the public house, and he jumped up behind—Jem Thomas is not here.
CHARLES MAT . I am a wood cutter, at 1, Hercules Buildings, New Cut, Lambeth—I know Roberts by seeing him and passing by—I was with Tervor on the 19th February about 2.40 in the Waterloo Road at a public-house, and we went from there to Peckham Rye in my cart and pony—he went to buy an old cart for 1l.—the prisoner went with us—we got to Peckham Rye about 4 o'clock—we came from there to the Kent Road Bridge, and the prisoner left, and I went home to where I live—it was about 6.10 or 6.20 when he left; I can't say for five minutes, and have not seen him since till now.
SAMUEL ROGERS (the Prisoner). I did not see anything of Roberts on the 19th—I never saw him before—he is a stranger to me; I was not with him that day at 4 o'clock or at 9 o'clock—I don't know anything about him—I had a horse in that field—I never saw the cart; I saw the horse—I believe there was a shed there—I don't know when the cart came there, nor the horse either.
NOT GUILTY .
69. EDWARD WELLS (16), PLEADED GUILTY . to four indictments for forging and uttering orders for the payment of money, with intent to defraud, having been before convicted in May, 1874— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT—Monday, December 14th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
72. THOMAS MURRAY (40), PLEADED GUILTY . to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Lewis Winckworth, and stealing therefrom one gold pencil case, and other articles, his property— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MARY CLARK . I am the wife of James Clark, who manages the Grapes, Covent Garden—on 30th October, between 7 and 8 o'clock, I served the prisoner with half an ounce of tobacco and some porter—he gave me a shilling—I tried it, told him it was bad, and asked him if he had got any more—he said "No"—my husband took the shilling—the beer and tobacco came to 4d.—he gave me 2d. and returned the tobacco—he went outside, and a policeman brought him back—my husband would not give him in custody, but told the policeman to watch him.
CHRISTOPHER BLACK (Policeman E R 32). On the evening of 30th October, Mr. Clark gave me some information, and I found the prisoner walking rapidly across Covent Garden Market—I told him I should take him into custody—he said "You may search me if you like, you will find nothing else on me"—I took him back to the Grapes, and Mr. Clark gave me this shilling—I took the prisoner to Bow Street Station—he gave his name Thomas Allen, and produced his discharge from the army—Clark declined to prosecute him, and he was discharged.
VICTORIA PERRONI . I am the wife of Louis Perroni, a dining-room keeper, of Holborn—on 17th November I served the prisoner with a penny bun—he gave me 1s. and I gave him 11d. in copper and put the shilling into the till when there was nothing but five penny pieces—he left, and afterwards another man came in and tendered a bad shilling to the waiter—it was found out, and almost immediately I saw the prisoner and the other man crossing the road together—I touched the prisoner on the shoulder, charged him, and showed him the bad shilling—I gave him in custody with the two shillings—the other man walked off fast.
HEROD HOLMES (Policeman E 357). Mrs. Perroni gave the prisoner into my custody with this shilling—he was walking with another man—I searched him in the shop and only found on him 1d. and a discharge from the army.
Prisoner's Defence. I am not guilty of uttering one.
GUILTY - Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution.
FLORA JANE HALL . I am single, and live at 1, St. James's Court, West-minter—on 24th November, about 1.30 a.m., I went home and found the prisoner in my room—we had a quarrel, and he fastened the door, pushed me backwards on the bed, and slit my nose—it must have been done with a knife—I was taken to the hospital and it was sewn up—I was there for a week—he was sober; he never drinks, but I aggravated him greatly.
Prisoner. Q. When you came home did not you commence kicking me? A. Certainly not—you were not in bed, you were sitting up for me to come home—I did not pour a jug of water over you in bed, nor did I threaten to do so—you struck me with your fist once—I saw the knife in your hand after the, blow was struck—it was taken from you at the Police Station—I did not see you take it off the table, but I conclude that you did—I-did not see a key in your hand.
COURT. Q. Was it a clasp knife?. A. No, an ordinary table knife—when I first knew him I lived with him for a couple of months, but he was rather inclined to be jealous of me—I had left him for some little time—these were my lodgings—when I got in I found him waiting for me and we were on friendly terms for a very few minutes—I told him that I did not want him, and he said that if I would give him 4d. he would go—I said "Here is 4d.," and then he struck me.
THOMAS MORE (Policeman B 229). I was on duty and heard screams of "Murder!"—I went to the room and found the door fastened—I called to them to open it—the prosecutrix opened it and the prisoner had got her back on the bed struggling; she was bleeding profusely from the forehead—this knife (produced) was in the prisoner's hand—I took him to the station and her to the hospital—the prisoner said that the scratch was from his nail.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I take a knife off the table and give it to you when I came in? A. No, you had it in your hand and said that she tried to use it on you and you took it from her and gave her a blow and did it with your nail.
WILLIAM CHARLES DAVIS . I am house-surgeon at Westminster Hospital—I examined the prosecutrix there—she was suffering from an incised wound about an inch and a quarter long from "her forehead down to the bridge of her nose, and a quarter of an inch deep—a knife like this would cause it—she was weak from loss of blood—I sewed up the wound—it was a dangerous wound and I strongly advised her to come into the hospital; she would not, but she was brought back the same morning and stopped there nearly a week, having an attack of erysipelas which was the result of the wound, and which placed her life in peril—the wound could not have been done with a nail, it was a clean incised wound.
Prisoner. I had a key in my hand at-the time. Witness. That would have made a contused wound.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "She tried to stab me with a knife. I took it from her and gave it to the policeman."
He also produced a written defence to the same effect.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding— Six Months' Imprisonment.
75. JOSEPH PARTRIDGE (25) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of the Eight Hon. Edward, Viscount Cardwell and others, and stealing therein two bottles of lemonade, their property.
MESSRS. BESLEY and GOODMAN conducted the. Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM SPALDING. I am smoking-room superintendent at the New University Club, St. James's Street, and have been so for two years and a quarter—the prisoner was drawing-room waiter for ten months, but left about four months ago—on 1st December my attention was attracted to the stranger's dining-room; there appeared to be a face looking through the ground glass—I pushed the door open, and fancied I heard a scuffling—I halloed out to know if anyone was there, and receiving no answer, I took out a match, struck it, and found the prisoner on his hands and knees under the table—he had no shoes on—I knew him, and asked him what he was going to do there—he said "I am going to sleep there"—I asked him how he came there; he said "I rushed past the night porter when he was looking another way, don't make any row about it, as I have been drinking with Litton, and I induced him to let me come and sleep at the Club as I was too drunk and too late to go to my own club to sleep"—I said "Does the night porter know you are here!—he said "No"—I said "You will have to come with me down to the night porter, and we will see about it"—he said that he did not come in with Litton, and that Litton was downstairs drunk—we went towards the hall porter, and when I had got down two or three steps I found he had gone back, and he must have got out at the coffee-room window, for he did not come down the staircase—Litton was not downstairs drunk; he sleeps on the premises, and we went to his pantry, but it was locked up—I did not go to his bedroom, and did not see him till 10.30 the next day.
Cross-examined. Members are frequently at the Club at 3 o'clock in the morning—I never saw anyone get drunk there—the prisoner was not drunk; he seemed to understand what he was saying and doing, and he did not tumble about—there were valuable things there, but nothing of value was missed.
Re-examined. Two gentlemen had just left the Club, and there was only me and the night porter there—the gentlemen had been in the smoking room—no one had been in the stranger's dining-room since 10 o'clock.
JOHN PARKER . I am the coffee-room superintendent—on Monday evening, 1st December I locked up two drawers in the coffee-room at 9 o'clock—I kept cash in one and mineral waters in the other, and I left in it eight bottles of soda water and four of lemonade—on Tuesday morning at 8.30 I looked at the head waiter's drawer, which had been chipped and scratched near the lock—I then looked at my own drawer, and found that it had been forced and two bottles of lemonade taken from it; the empty bottles were under the table, and this chisel (produced) was under a desk.
WILLIAM JOHN HALL . I am carpenter at New University Club—this mortice and this screw driver are mine; they were kept in a workshop in the basement, but not locked up—I remember this long one especially being there on Monday when I left.
GEORGE WATKINS . I am steward of the Club—the prisoner was engaged in 1873 as coffee-room waiter; he remained about ten months, and was afterwards engaged at the Road Club—on 1st December, about 8.30, when I came downstairs I saw the hall porter, who told me something, and between
9 and 10 o'clock he and the prisoner entered my office—the prisoner said that he came to apologise for being in the Club, as he had no business there, but a tall man with long whiskers asked him to come in; that there had been a party at the Road Club, and he had had too much wine and went out of doors, but that did not do him any good, and the man said "Never mind the front door of the Club, come in through the window;" and so he did and found no one there, and he found this large whiskered man tampering with the drawers, and said to him "I don't like the look of this"—I said "I believe this is an untruth, it is not the first time you have told me tales of this kind; whenever you got into trouble, when you were in the service of the Club, you always made excuses and tried to put it on somebody else's shoulders"—I then sent for a policeman, and gave him into custody—he came there voluntarily—he did not explain why he had said nothing to the people in the Club when he saw the tall man tampering with the drawers.
CHARLES BUTCHER (Detective Officer). On this Tuesday morning, between 9 and 10 o'clock, I went to the New University Club and saw some drawers both locked and unlocked—one of them had been forced and there were marks on it to which I fitted this chisel and it corresponded—I searched the prisoner, but only found a few ordinary matches on him.
Cross-examined. He had no tobacco—he said that the window was not fastened.
WILLIAM PARKER , I am head waiter at the Club—on Monday evening, 30th November, I went round and examined the windows at 9.30 or 9.45 and left them safe except one window by which I think the prisoner must have got in—it appeared rather weak in the spring, but I did not think anybody could get in as it was fastened—I left the Club about 1.30 a.m. leaving my drawer and everything else perfectly secure—in the morning the drawer had been chipped about near the lock in two or three places.
Cross-examined. I did not say before the Magistrate "One of them has not fastened properly for some time past," I said that the spring was weak.
WILLIAM JOHN LITTON . I am under "butler at the New University Club—on Monday evening, 30th November, I went out about 9.15 and came back about 12.15—I did not lock up the pantry because I was not on duty, but I went into the pantry to change my clothes and was in bed at 12.45—I was not in the prisoner's company that night, nor did I see him—I did not ask him to come to the Club to sleep—I was not drunk; I spoke to the hall porter when I came in.
Cross-examined. I had had a glass of bitter beer but nothing else the whole evening—I was assisting in dispensing the wine from 6 o'clock to 8.45, but had not been smelling it—it is against the rules for me to have any body on the premises after 5 o'clock and I should be discharged if I did so.
Re-examined. I went to the London Pavilion at about 8.45 where I met an old schoolfellow and then the late kitchen clerk's brother came up and another party, and I was with them all the evening—I had a glass of bitter ale and changed a half-sovereign and that was the only time I had anything from the time I left the Club—I had no intoxicating liquors at the Pavilion.
WILLIAM BENIFFICK . I am night hall porter at the Club—on 30th November I saw Litton come into the Club at 12.25, he was perfectly sober—I left the club at 1 a.m. although one or two members had not left—Lytton went downstairs and when I lowered the gas he had gone upstairs to bed; I went up again to the front hall and Parker, the head waiter, come out of the strangers' room and I let him out at the front door, he does not sleep on the premises—I took a candle and went round the strangers' room and the coffee room—the prisoner was not there then—two members were in the smoking room at the top of the house—the coffee room windows were all closed down—I afterwards saw Spalding come down-stairs and go into the strangers' room—I heard him speak and saw a second person who I do not recognize there—I found the coffee room window open about 3 feet, and I could have gone through it into the street. The prisoner's father gave him a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
EDWARD JONES . I am a draper, of 42, Fulham Road—on 18th October the prisoner called on me and asked me to advance him 5l. on this cheque for 7l. 3s. 6d., as he wanted to go to Swanswea—I had not got it and gave him two sovereigns on account—I sent the cheque to the bank in Sloane Square next morning and they detained the porter and returned the cheque marked "No account"—I did not see the prisoner again till ha was before the Magistrate—the cheque is signed in the name of Stephenson and the prisoner endorsed on it in my presence "Alfred Ball"
Prisoner. Q. Look again at the endorsement? A. It is "William Herbert Ball"—you brought the letter (produced) to my house on Sunday, about 8 p.m.—we had several conversations about going to Swansea together on a survey, and we were to have gone on Tuesday in the following week—you asked me on the Sunday night to advance you 5l. on a cheque which you had received from a surveyor and that you intended to have left this letter if I had been out—the cheque was not enclosed in it (The letter was dated 20, Gloucester Place, and requested the witness to accompany the prisoner to Swansea if still in the same mind). I agreed to be at your place next day at 12 o'clock to go to Swansea, and I went to the Bank at 10 o'clock—after going to the bank I waited at home till past 12 o'clock and then I went to Gloucester Place and found no such party there.
Re-examined. He never came back to me or said that he got the cheque from a surveyor on account.
SETH MOSLYN . I am a mason in partnership with my brother at Chelsea—I missed my cheque book from a drawer before 10th October—there were three cheques in it, I believe—I do not remember the numbers, but this cheque is similar to them—I went to the bank at once, and on 12th October. received some information from the bank—I do not know anything of the prisoner.
JOSEPH WILLIAM SCOTT . I am a clerk in the West London and Commercial Bank, Sloane Square—this cheque is one of twenty-five issued to Mr. Moslyn—I identify it by the number which was a series of twenty-five, this being the last cheque in the book—we have no customer named Stephenson—all our cheques are green, but those to "Bearer" are printed differently—those to order are a pale mauve—these cheques are in a stone-coloured cover.
MART ANN SHERRY . I am the wife of Charles Sherry, of 20, Godfrey Street, Chelsea—the prisoner came to lodge with us about 7th October and stayed three weeks—the first night he came I asked him for his rent—he produced a cheque-book, opened it, and took out a white cheque which was loose in the book—he did not tear it out—there were two or three green leaves in the book—he said "Don't be frightened for your rent, because I have got quite sufficient to pay you, I will cash this cheque and give you the money to-morrow night—he came home that evening and I asked him again for the rent as I had been so badly used by his brothers—he said "As soon as I can get this cheque I will give it to you—I could see writing on one of the green leaves—he came back the next night, 9th October, and paid me 4s. 6d.
Prisoner. Q. Can you read and write? A. No—I did not appear at the first examination because I was very ill, but I appeared on the Friday—Clough subpoened me, but did not tell me what to say—it was a dirty green colour—you opened the cheque-book pretty well every time you came in.
MR. DE MICHELE (to MRS. SHERRY). Q. Is there any pretence for saying that Clough has told you what you were to say to-day? A. No—the cheque was loose in the book—I did not see the prisoner tear it out.
EDWARD CLOUGH (Detective Officer B). I took the prisoner on a warrant on 15th November—he was getting off an omnibus near St. George's Barracks—I followed him into the canteen bar and took him in custody—there is no pretence for saying that I have told Mrs. Sherry what to say to-day, nor have I offered her any bribe.
Prisoner's Defence. I received this cheque on account of 10l. from a betting man. I had several transactions with him previously and always found everything straightforward. It being Saturday, and as I was running short, knowing Mr. Jones, I went to him and asked him to let me have a few shillings. I never thought of asking him for 5l. I said that when the bank opened I would pay him. He said "My dear fellow, I will run upstairs and see what the mistress has got," and he lent me 2l. On the Monday I heard that he had been to. the bank and had issued a warrant for my apprehension, and I naturally hesitated in going to his place, but went to find the man who gave it to me. I went to his usual haunts, but could not find him either in Ascot or Windsor. If I had intended a fraud I should have pressed for the whole amount or, at any rate, have forged the cheque for a larger amount. I know nothing of the cheque-book; the witness has been coached up about that. I was earning half a guinea a day and should not have placed myself in such a position for 2l.
THE COURT handed the prisoner's letter to the Jury, asking them to compare the writing with that of the forged cheque, especially with regard to the signature of the Utter "S"
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
CLARK and TWOEY PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. A. B. KELLY conducted the Prosecution.
p.m., I was with Downs and Westwood, and saw the four prisoners and a man not in custody in Wood Street—we followed them to Cheapside and Friday Street; they went into some courts, and came into Newgate Street and West Smithfield, where there was a truck outside a booking-office, containing some parcels—they all passed the truck and "came back, and Clark took this parcel of tobacco from the truck and ran, followed closely by Twoey—the other two ran in a different direction—while running, Clark gave the parcel to Twoey—I caught Clark, Westwood caught Twoey, and Downs went after the other two—I told Clark what he was charged with; he said "All right"—Twoey threw the parcel down on the footway—I took them to the station, and Downs brought the other two in—I saw them together for an hour that day in conversation round the trucks, wherever there were any goods exposed.
FREDERICK DOWNS . I was with Halse; we had been watching the prisoners for a week—they were all together in Wood Street—five of them passed near this truck and then came back towards it, and Clark took the parcel-Smith and Bing went on the other side of Smithfield, they saw Clark and Twoey arrested, and the man not in custody said to Smith "So help me goodness they are nicked, skate," meaning "They are caught, go away"—I caught hold of Smith, and found this bag (produced) on him.
Smith, I polled the bag out, and told you I was going on an errand for my father.
Bing. You said at the station that you never saw me with the other prisoners Witness. I did not; I said that I had been after you for a week before.
GEORGE WESTWOOD (City Detective). I was with Halse and Downs—I had watched the prisoners on two other occasions—I followed them into Smithfield; they were in conversation not only on this but on the two other occasions—I saw Clark remove the tobacco—I took Twoey, handed him to another officer, and went after Bing, who was looking back and running away—I caught him about 50 yards from the truck, and took him to the station.
Bing. Q. How was it that I only got 50 yards while you were running after them? A. Because you stood still for a minute or two.
CHARLES FROST . I was in the employ of Mr. Ripon, a tobacco manufacturer, at this time—on 19th November, about 6 p.m., I had charge of a truck, upon which was this parcel of tobacco—I left it at the door of a booking-office in Smithfield, and when I came back I missed it.
Smith's Defence. I was going on an errand for my father, and somebody caught hold of me and said "Come along, you might as well." I said "What?" He said "You will see when you get to the station;" and he put me in the dock with these two other prisoners, and said I was charged with stealing tobacco, and then this other prisoner was brought in whom I had never seen before. My father died since I have been in prison.
Bing's Defence. I was not with them, I was walking along, and some man pounced on my back and said "That is him, lay hold of him he laid hold of me and took me to the station, and the other prisoners said they had never seen me before. I wish to call Clark.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I was in Wood Street that evening, but not in Friday Street—I heard the officer say that I was, but that is false—I was in Newgate Street—it is false that Smith and Bing were in my company; I did not speak to either of them that evening, but I had seen them in the morning—they are friends of mine—I am the one who stole the tobacco—I saw Bing at his father's house that morning—I generally go round to see him; sometimes I get a little job there.
Bing to FREDERICK DOWNS. Q. Did not you say at the station that you had been watching the four prisoners, but you never saw me before? A. I said that I had been watching you four and another one for the last week—I did not say that I had never seen you before—on that evening Twoey and Clark fell out, and Smith went between them and parted them from fighting.
Smith. That is false.
SMITH** BING— GUILTY . The Jury stated that they did not believe Clarks evidence. CLARK— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. TWOEY— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
78. JOHN CLARK was again indicted, with HENRY SMITH (21), and GEORGE GRAHAM (46) , for stealing 25 yards of cloth of Henry William Richard Crowle, and another; Smith and Graham having been before convicted.
SMITH PLEADED GUILTY . *— Two Years' Imprisonment.
GRAHAM PLEADED GUILTY .**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. This charge was not proceeded with against Clark.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 16th, 1874
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
79. ARTHUR COOPER (33), was indicted for unlawfully obtaining goods on credit within four months of his bankruptcy, under the false colour and pretence of carrying on business in the ordinary course of trade.
MR. METCALFE, Q. C., with MR. BESLEY, conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH with MR. F. H. LEWIS, the Defence.
ERNEST ROBINSON . I am clerk to the Registrar of the London Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the files of proceedings in the matter of Arthur Cooper—I have the files in reference to a petition for liquidation presented by himself in the County Court of Leicester, on 24th February, 1873—I have also the proceedings in the bankruptcy of the same person—there is a petition of creditors for him to be adjudicated abankrnpt, dated March 1st, 1873—there was an actual adjudication on 14th March, and an appointment of Mr. Benjamin Nicholson as trustee, on 3rd April—and a statement of affairs filed on 3rd April—the indebtednes is stated at 18,000l—on 17th December, 1873, there is a memorandum of the removal of the proceedings from the County Court of Leicester to London, also an order to prosecute by the Registrar, acting as chief Judge, dated 3rd November, 1874.
Cross-examined. The assets are stated at 5,104l. 3s. 3d.
THOMAS WICKS . I am a member of the firm of Hemsworth, Lilley & Co., wholesale leather merchants, 30, West Smithfield, London—I have had dealings with the prisoner between April, 1868, and 8th January, 1873—at the time of the presentation for liquidation he was indebted to our firm 1,263l.—on 11th December, 1872, I received an order from him for 3,350
lbs. of fades, at 12 3/4 d., amounting to 177l. 19s. 4d.—on 8th January, 1873, I got an order from him for 4540 lbs. weight of Australian hides, at 13 1/4 d., making a total of 250l. 12s. 11d.—there was a separate transaction on the same day amounting to 286l.—a bill was drawn in the usual course on 1st February for 776l. 16s. 2d., which was dishonoured—the goods were not paid for—I did not know the prisoner as a person buying leather unmanufactured and selling it unmanufactured—I only knew him as a shoe manufacturer—I had an opportunity of seeing the prisoner selecting goods—I have sold him goods myself on selection—I should say he was a very good judge of the goods he bought.
Cross-examined. From 1868 he was a constant customer of ours, he was buying goods all the time; the transactions were much larger the latter part of the time—he was not so large a customer as he was in the last year—in 1869 it was 280l., in 1870 about 206l., in 1871 about 830l., in 1872 1,366.—that would not be all owing at once—during all those antecedent periods he always paid us prompt; his bills were always met—we had no bill returned—his engagements as a trader were always met with ordinary punctuality—the last bill before his stoppage was due on 5th January, 1873, for 203l. 14s. 10d.—I think there was another on 4th February, that was not returned, that was for 294l. 17s. 1d.—that was within a month of his bankruptcy—in December we had a bill for 463l. 18s. 4d., in round figures, something like 1,000l. during December, January, and February, just previous to his becoming bankrupt—I certainly should not have sold him or any one else goods if I had known he was going to sell them again in the same trade—I knew him as nothing else than as a shoe manufacture—I don't think there was any room for him to have got a profit; I would not have sold them to him to sell again, because I should have known that there was no room for it—he must have wanted them for other purposes than for his trade.
Re-examined. If I had known that they were to go down to Brown and Rintoul next day at a smaller price than we sold them at, I certainly should not have parted with them—the last bill for 776l. was the largest we had from him—he appears to have bought from us to the extent of 959l. from 5th November to 8th January.
URIAH MACEY . I am a partner in the firm of Smith and Son, leather merchants, of Camomile Street, London—our firm were creditors of the bankrupt at the time of the liquidation 469l.—on 27th December, 1872, the prisoner gave me an order for nine dozen patent calf at 43l. 1s.—that was a special transaction; there was no discount, he took his time in it, it was payable by a four months' bill from 1st February; they were to be sold as for January 7th, therefore they would be due to draw for on 1st February—I don't remember seeing him at my place about that time, I saw him about a month later at my place; he selected goods on that occasion, forty dozen calf kids and five patent horse hides amounting to 235l. 15s.—I don t remember any one being with him, the terms were to be a bill from 15th February and no discount—I did not know that he was selling leather unmanufactured, I sold them to him as a shoe manufacturer—at the time he was there personally selecting goods I did not know that he was selling unmanufactured leather to other persons—I knew him as a boot and shoe manufacturer—those parcels of goods remain unpaid for—there was another transaction on 10th February by order given to our traveller, Australian sides 190l. 10s.—those three parcels remain unpaid
for—we have had transactions with him since 8th May, 1871—the purchases from November, 1872, to February were considerably larger than during any similar period of his transactions with us-we always considered him an acute judge and a very good buyer.
Cross-examined. The last cash payment to us was on 5th January, 1873 6s. 7d.; the previous one was 252l. 9s. 2d., from 4th August, 1872 and May 4th, 297l.—previous to his bankruptcy he met all his engagements with punctuality.
Re-examined. If he had not I should not have gone on trusting him.
HENRY THOMAS RADCLIFF . I am a warehouseman employed by Messrs, Beckwith and Hammond, leather merchants, of 147, Long Lane, Ber-mondsey—at the time of filing the petition for liquidation by the prisoner he was indebted to our firm 189l. 8s. 11d.—on 28th December, 1872, he gave an order for 113lbs. patent calf and crop offal, in two parcels making 23l. 15s.—on 28th January, 1873, he ordered twenty-four dozen patent calf to the amount of 150l. 3s.—these goods remained unpaid for at the time of his petition—I have had transactions with the prisoner since about August, 1869—I knew him to be carrying on business as a shoe manufacturer—we were not aware that he was selling unmanufactured feather to other persons—from November, 1872, to the last transaction his purchases were larger than during a similar interval at any other time—he was a very fair judge of the articles he purchased.
Cross-examined. The last cash payment to us was about November—his previous dealings with us were met with punctuality—at the time of his bankruptcy he owed us about 189l.—he has not owed us as much as that on former occasions; the largest was about 150l.—that was paid when it became due.
FREDERICK. HALL MORRIS . I am a member of the firm of Bevington & Morris, wholesale leather merchants, of Canon Street, City—our firm were creditors of the bankrupt at the time of his liquidation for 1,479l. 12s. 8d.—he has been a customer of the firm from August, 1870, to October, 1872—the transactions were small during 1871, and larger during 1872—in 1870 they were about 33l., in 1871 about 390l., in 1872 about 2,500l., and about 420l. in 1873—the whole of the 1,470l. was bought from 6th November, 1872, to February, 1873—I only knew him as a shoe manufacturer, not as a seller of unmanufactured leather—he generally came to our place to inspect goods—he was a very good judge of the prices according to our idea—he would come to our place to inspect the goods, tell us what he wanted, take quantities, and prices, and generally go away, and either come back that afternoon or next day, and always choose the cheapest things we offered to him—Mr. Brown has been with him on several occasions when he inspected goods—he is a partner in the firm of Brown and Rintoul—I believe he was there latterly with him—Brown and Rintoul were customers of ours—they could not have bought any of these goods afterwards cheaper than the prisoner did—there was a purchase from us on 28th January of 20 dozen patent calf, at 102l.—I can't say for certain whether Brown was with him then—I believe he was when he inspected the goods, not when he gave the order—they were inspected either the same day they were bought or the day before—he also bought on the same day some other good amounting to 85l. 14s. 6d.—they were to be sent in on 8th February—they were a repetition of the goods delivered on 8th February—on 28th January he bought a certain lot of goods, a ton to be sent in in February
and a ton in March—I produce a letter from the prisoner dated 12th February, urging the delivery of the goods.
Cross-examined. A four months' bill was always drawn, from two dates in the month—the defendant's dealings with us altogether amounted to about 3,430l.—he never owed us anything like the amount that he owed when he stopped; he has owed us several hundred pounds at a time—he invariably met all his engagements with punctuality until he stopped—Brown and Rintoul are" leather merchants—they used to deal with us—Brown was very seldom at our place as a customer unless he came with Cooper—I considered Cooper an astute and skilful buyer, whose judgment I considered good—I have said that Brown and Rintoul could not buy cheaper, and I don't think any one else could have bought cheaper from us—the last payment to us was 366l. 4s., 4d., on 18th December, 1872, the next prior to that, was 509l. 14s. 11d., on 18th October—altogether, in 1872, he paid us about 1,500l., and in 1871 not quite 400l.
Re-examined. If he had ceased to pay, and his bills had been returned, we should immediately have stopped his credit—in November, 1872, he had goods to the amount of 1,050l. in December, it was only 4s.—from January to September, 1872, he had about 1,400l. or 1,500l., and in November he had about 1,070l.—there was nothing between August and November—in 1873 it was 420l.—I saw Brown on several occasions when the prisoner was with him examining goods and buying—they were on very friendly terms indeed—he must have heard the prices named—on one occasion he bought on the same day, and only on one occasion, as far as I am aware of.
THOMAS SHEPHERD . I am a warehouseman in the' employ of Somerville & Co., leather merchants, of Noble Street, London—the prisoner came to the warehouse on 29th January, 1873—he asked for and I gave him the prices of some patent calf and calf sides, and he purchased to the amount of 108l. 13s.—at the time of his liquidation we were creditors of his to the amount of 208l. 14s. 6d.—I knew him as carrying on the trade of a boot and shoe manufacturer—I was not aware that he was a seller of unmanufactured leather—he had been dealing with our firm about two years—his November account was 213l., and the one before that, from July to September, 277l., from January to July, 1872, it was 90l.—I do not think he bought more largely from November to the end of the year than during any other eight weeks—the last goods bought were only 108l., and the other was a bill returned, making up the 208l. 14s. 6d.—from September 20th to November 7th, his purchases were 213l. 10s. 11d.
Cross-examined. As regards his antecedent transactions, all his engagements were met with punctuality—the last cash paid was on 21st December, 107l. 11s. 6d., and there was a bill for 100l. running, that was drawn on 1st November at four months; it would not have come to maturity till after his bankruptcy.
JOSEPH SUSMAN . I am one of the firm of Oppenheim & Co., leather merchants in the City—I commenced business transactions with the prisoner in 1871, and his account was closed on 8th February, 1872—in the early part of 1873 I was at Leeds and saw the prisoner at the Queen's Hotel there, and had some conversation with him—he said he was the largest buyer of American fleshers in this country; that is a kind of leather—I offered him the same article—he said if the article was of good value he could do with them and I might send him a sample bundle to Leicester, which I did a few days afterwards, and about 15th January—I called on
him at his place of business at Leicester, and after a long bargaining about the price he gave me an order for two tons, which came to 209l. 8s. 2d., and the sample bundle was 2l. 0s. 10d.—the terms were a four months' acceptance from 1st March—they were not all American fleshers, there were five dozen calf kids included—I saw a great many goods there, boots and shoes, especially Bluchers, for which article he said he used these American fleshers—he showed me several invoices for similar goods—I am not quite certain of what firms; it was either Messrs. Kitchens, of Leeds, or Messrs. Bevington & Morris—I afterwards received from him this memorandum, claiming for short weight; it is on a billhead "Bought of Arthur Cooper, Manufacturer"—I knew him as a manufacturer of goods—I did not know that he was selling unmanufactured leather—this is my invoice—the goods remain unpaid for—I had another transaction with him on 29th January, 1873—he called on me in London and examined my stock; no one was with him as far as I can remember—he came next day and gave an order for thirty-three dozen patent calf, amounting to 185l. 14s.—I was not quite ready to offer him the same terms, and he was quick enough to see that, and said "It does not matter, I don't want the same terms, I, have not done sufficient business with you and you don't know me sufficiently; I will pay you for this transaction cash on 1st March," and I agreed to that, with the usual discount of 2 1/2 per cent.—this is the invoice of those goods—I believed that he required the goods for his own trade; if I had known they were going to Brown & Rintoul I would not have parted with them—they remain unpaid for—the total amount of my claim is 397l. 5s. 10d.—Brown & Rintoul were occasionally customers of mine—they would not have bought these goods any cheaper—I am a creditor for the whole of the re-opened account—in the beginning of March, 1873, I was at Leeds, and called at the warehouse of Mr. William Hall—I have sold goods to Mr. Hall at some time, I don't remember whether I did at that time—I can't say exactly that I saw a case of my goods there—I spoke to Mr. Hall about the prisoner's affairs—the prisoner was a good buyer, and an acute judge of the value of articles.
Cross-examined. My transactions with the prisoner on the old account were very small indeed—he did not pay regularly; he did not owe me anything when I re-opened the account in 1873—I had been paid—I have not been examined before to-day.
FREDERICK CONYERS KITCHEN . I am a member of the firm of Edward Kitchen & Son, leather merchants at Leeds, and am a creditor of the prisoner's estate for 1,450l.—on the 6th December, 1872, the prisoner called on me about a private meeting of creditors of Gould & Co., and I asked him what kind of trade he was doing—he said he was making up largely American fleshers, and that he had bought twenty tons from George Angus & Co., of Newcastle-on-Tyne—he asked me if I could offer him any—I said Yes, I had ten tons—he said "What is your lowest cash price for them."—I quoted 14d. and showed him a sample—he offered 3 1/2 d. to clear them, which I declined—I said I could not do anything for him in price, but being the end of the year, and to induce him to clear the goods, I would give him a little extra time in payment—he said "Well, I shan't want them until January, as I am using Angus's"—so I agreed to make the price 14d. and give him two months from 1st January, and allow him 2 1/2 discount—they were invoiced on 31st December, at 1,472l.—on 8th January, I saw the prisoner at the Great Northern Hotel at Leeds—he
said, "Kitchen, I have sold those fleshers of yours, I want them to deliver to Brown & Rintoul, I have made a 1d. a lb. profit upon them, I have sold them at 15d. a lb., and I want them delivered to them"—I said "Give me your order and I will do so"—at that time we still had possession of the property—if I had known that he had actually sold them to Brown & Rintoul at a loss of 73l. I should not have parted with them—1d. a lb. profit would represent 115l.
Cross-examined. If we had got our money we should not have cared what he did with the goods—if I had known at the time that he had sold them to Brown & Rintoul, I should have made inquiries, and those inquiries would have put me in possession of the business he was doing, and although I held his acceptance for the goods, I would not have delivered them—we are anxious to do business—if we get our money we don't care what a man does with the goods.
Re-examined. We should of course take into consideration the probability of payment—if we had known that they were going-to Brown & Rintoul at a loss we should not have delivered them under any consideration whatever—this was the only transaction.
JAMES GREEN . I am a member of the firm of Green & Kirkland, shoe manufacturers at Leicester—on 27th November, 1872, the prisoner bought made-up goods of us to the amount of 72l. 10s. 2d., and on 21st January, to the amount of 70l. 16s.—I received a few articles from him—we gave credit to the amount of 3l. 8s. 11d—he gave us bills for the amount of our debt which were dishonoured—the goods remained unpaid for—at the time of the stoppage we were creditors for 136l.
Cross-examined. We had had one small account with him previously, about 70l.—that was paid—I have known him ever since he has been in business at Leicester, in 1871 and before that—he began in a small way and gradually increased until he did a very considerable trade—the firm used to be Dare, Cooper, & Yates—I believe he has always borne the character of an honourable man, who met all his engagements with punctuality—I have had many transactions with him for other persons and he always paid—he was a very great employer of labour, several hundred hands at a time, as a manufacturer and a dealer—in 1872 he introduced some new mode of manufacturing boots by American machinery, and his hands struck, and he was left high and dry—that was in the summer of 1872—at Christmas 1871, about twelve or fourteen months before the stoppage, his premises were burned down.
Re-examined. He was insured—he told me that he had received the money—when I first knew him he was a manufacturer of air socks, and sold elastic web—afterwards he was a buyer of boots and shoes, a dealer, not a manufacturer—in 1870-71, he was a manufacturer of boots and shoes—I did not know him as a seller of leather—he told me after the fire that he had bought the salvage.
CHARLES STAYNES . I am one of the firm of Staynes & Sons, curriers, furriers, and leather factors, at Leicester—our firm are creditors of the prisoner for 339l. 6s. 10d.—about 13th January, 1873, he gave us an order for six dozen patent calf at 4s. a dozen, and on 22nd January he gave me an order for nine dozen kid, calf, and other goods, amounting to 89l. 2s., those remained unpaid for at the time of the petition for liquidation—he bought on inspection—I have been dealing with him nine or ten years—he had incurred as large an amount before, in a period of seven weeks.
Cross-examined. I have been doing business with him nine or ten years—he has on former occasions owed me more than 339l., twice as much I should think, getting on for a 1000l.—all his engagements up to this were met with punctuality; he bore the character of a highly upright, honourable, industrious trader—I heard of the fire, but do not know any of the particulars—if leather is scorched it is very prejudicial, it would be very much deteriorated—his last cash payment was, about six weeks before he stopped, about 200l.
Re-examined. We sold him leather—I knew of his selling leather, it is the habit with the manufacturers more or less to sell to the little men—I understood that he did sell to the small men, he would buy boots and shoes of them and pay them partly by leather and partly by cash—I did not know of his buying large quantities of hides and selling them; he did not do that in Leicester to my knowledge.
JOHN WHITE . I a traveller for Mr. Morell, a leather merchant, of Leeds—I have known the prisoner and had dealings with him eight or nine years, up to 27th August, 1871—on that day I was directed by my employers to close his account—some time previous to September, 1872, in consequence of something that Mr. Brown, of the firm of Brown & Rintoul said, I called on the prisoner—I had some conversation with him as to the state of his affairs—he told me that I had made a mistake in not having continued doing business with him, that we had lost a good deal of his money and, that kind of thing, and he produced what seemed to be a banking book and there seemed to be a balance in his favour of 1,500l.; he just showed it to me across the table and put it down again; he said he had that balance at the bank—I was not able to see what bank it was; of course that strengthened my confidence in him and it led to my selling him goods to the amount of 300l.—I understood from what he said to me that he was perfectly solvent—on 5th February I called on him again and he ordered goods—he had goods to the amount of 250l. 5s. 5d., the order perhaps would have amounted to 1,000l. or more; they were 100 heavy sole buts for shoe purposes; a certain quantity was to go in at that time, a further quantity during February, and a much larger quantity in March, about 2 tons—we are creditors for 566l. 18s. 7d.—the parcel of goods of February 5th remained unpaid for at the time of the liquidation.
Cross-examined. About half of the order was to go in in March—I did not deliver those.
WILLIAM HALL . I am a shoe manufacturer at Leeds—I have known the prisoner for some years—I have also known Brown & Rintoul, but not so long as the prisoner; they are in the same town; I have known them five or six years—I had dealings with the prisoner during the six or seven years I have spoken of—on 30th November, 1872, I supplied him with goods to the value of 207l. 16s. 3d., and on 15th February to the amount of 280l.—I did not supply any goods between those dates, I bought some kid skins from him—in December, 1872, he called on me and we went to the Commercial Hotel, he showed me a note that he had bought of Kitchen, I think, over 10 tons at 14 1/2 d., 2 1/2, from 1st January at two months, and he said they would not get paid for them, that they were going to Brown & Rintoul; he said Kitchen's would not trust Brown & Rintoul, and they would not even give them a reference—I had conversation with him several times about Brown & Rintoul after this; he showed me two or three letters in the Queen saying "Let in so and so, get goods of so and so, let some people in and
let others go, for they are decent people"—I saw the letters; at the bottom it said "When you have read this burn it," bat he said "I shall not burn it, I shall keep it to hang over his head"—I have been present with Chamberlain, his brother-in-law, but he always kept Chamberlain away—I have not seen the prisoner with the letters in the presence of Chamberlain, or heard him speak of them in his presence, I have heard Chamberlain speak about them out of the prisoner's presence—I have lent the prisoner money, a bill for 500l. and a cheque for 190l.—the bill was dated January 17th and I sent the cheque by passenger train on 18th January, 1873—he afterwards gave me this order. (This was dated 14th February, 1873, lor ten tons of fleshers at 14 1/4 d. to be delivered in Leeds to the prisoner's order). He said the goods were at Liverpool—I never got any of them—the prisoner told me on one occasion that Brown & Rintoul had got 6000l. or 7000l. out of him by buying goods of him at less than their cost, at less than he gave for them; that they used to tell him what goods to buy that he had got orders for, that he could Bell best—after the bankruptcy there was a little furniture of the prisoner's, it was bought by Chamberlain, a brother-in-law or cousin of the prisoner's; I think he is a cousin; the prisoner told me that Brown paid for it; I saw him write a letter at Leeds to Mr. Nicholson about it.
Cross-examined. I have had a little litigation with Brown, and there has been a motion for a new trial and all that sort of thing—it was in December, 1872, that the defendant told me that Kitchen' would not be paid, when he countersigned the order sheet with the terms written on it—there was no one present when that conversation took place—there were persons in the room, but he was talking to me—I was on friendly terms with Kitchen—I did not go and communicate to him what had been said by the defendant—I believed him when he told me he was going to rob Kitchen, but I did not think it was my duty to go to Kitchen and caution him—it was my impression that the defendant was an insolvent man at that time—in February, 1873, I sold him goods to the amount of 200l. or 300l.—that was two months after he had told me about Kitchen, and that I believed he was an insolvent man—it was about 280l. worth of goods—did not believe that he had recovered his'commercial status and that he was solvent in 1873—I sold him those goods, still believing him to be insolvent—I was going to draw on Brown & Rintoul to pay me for those goods—I did not sell the goods to them; I sold them to Cooper—I thought he was going to pay me with Brown & Rintoul's acceptance—I mean to tell the Jury that I sold 280l. worth of goods to a man whom I believed to be at the time insolvent, relying on his getting me somebody else's acceptance—I did not get it—he told me that Brown & Rintoul owed him about 3,000l., and he would get me some money to pay me—he had told me that Brown & Rintoul were persons he was making use of to sell his goods at any price he could—I gave evidence in the Bankruptcy Court, but not before the Magistrate.
Re-examined. I sold Mr. Cooper some patent machinery, coming to about 900l., which he was going to send to his brother-in-law, George Chamberlain, and he was going to pay me that 900l. with Brown & Rintoul's acceptance—that is what he said—he said he was sending them 2,000l. worth of stuff that month, and he would draw upon them and he would endorse the bill and hand it over to me to pay me—that was what induced me to enter into that transaction with him—I also lent him some money; that was in January—I have been on intimate terms with Mr. Cooper, or I
should scarcely have lent him money—I lent him 600l. odd—he was to sell me leather for that amount—I have seen Mr. Brown here—that is the gentleman standing up—I thought that Brown & Rintoul, the acceptors of the bill, were solvent at the time I sold Mr. Cooper the goods.
JOHN CASH . I am a shorthand writer and newspaper reporter at Leicester—I was appointed by the Registrar of the County Court of Leicester to take the evidence of the defendant—on 25th August, 1873, I was present when he was examined before Serjeant Miller, Judge of the Court, and during the course of that examination these telegrams were produced, and were all marked by the Registrar of the Court—I heard the bankrupt asked questions about the telegrams—some of them were read to him—I saw them, but I did not have them in my hand—I heard them read to the bankrupt—I did not see the contents—I could not swear to any of them.
BENJAMIN NICHOLSON . I am an accountant, and am the trustee—I produce these telegrams here to-day—I saw several of them produced at the examination, and have had them in my possession since—this is one that I saw: "What do you mean? If you don't send 400 sheep to-night I am ruined"—the date of that is the 20th September, 1872—there is another of the 16th October, Belfast: "You have entirely ruined me, no help for it unless you send to-night; dispose of at any price; you have ruined me; you packed the samples, you alone are to blame"—another on the 31st October: "Move all the stuff, for heaven's sake, George; on my soul, it is life and death; never mind loss, sell certain; write me here"—the name of the sender is John Jones, Queen's Hotel, Leeds, to George Chamberlain, Cobden Hotel, Argyle Street, Glasgow—there is another on 31st October: "I am almost besides myself; I am depending entirely upon you for 1,000l., telegraph me how you are getting on"—there is one from Glasgow, November 21st: "Your letter alarms me beyond description, you can't understand its importance to me; wire me at once, I depend entirely on five to six from you to-morrow, do telegraph me"—that is from J. Pickering, Leicester, to George Chamberlain—I won't swear to the next, which is the 22nd November, from same to same—there is one of November 22nd, "Glasgow. I have told the party, I shall have 400 sheep to-morrow certain, could not have done if I had not depended completely on you"—there is one of the 28th November, from Joseph Pickerin, Leicester: "It is simply nonsense to telegraph as you have, you must clear somewhere or other, and at some price or other, or you know the consequences; reply to previous telegram"—there is one of November, 1872, I think it is the 11th, but the date is not clear; it may be the 1st, from Joseph Pickering, of Leeds: "It is over, if you have not brought or sent seven or eight hundred, and nothing can possibly help it; telegraph me here at once"—there is one of 30th January bearing the post mark Glasgow, from A. Cooper, Leicester, to George Chamberlain: "Sell certain, I depend on you for what I said"—on 31st January: "Price must be no consideration whatever; wire me at once what you are doing, you know I entirely depend"—that is from Arthur Cooper, Leicester, to George Chamberlain"—there is one more which seems to be without date, from Thomas Jones, Leicester, to George Chamberlain, Glasgow: "Send to-night all oil possible, or the machinery will be completely stopped, depend on for Monday, and can't take any refusal"—there are three or four others which I am not certain about.
Cross-examined. He was examined before the Registrar—what he said was taken down in writing, that is all the information I have—there was an examination in Bankruptcy—I can't tell you the date unless I refer to my book—the defendant admitted to having sent those telegrams—I remember r that—I have looked at my notes in order to refresh my memory, but I recollect that he admitted sending them.
F. C. KITCHEN (re-examined.) The ten tons of goods that I sold were lying at Manchester, they were to be delivered to Brown & Rintoul's order and they thought they were in Liverpool—there was a contract for the sale which was handed to Cooper—that was sent on the 6th December and the invoice was sent on the 31st—I had refused to credit Brown & Rintoul—we would not give them credit—I had no conversation with Cooper on the subject.
WILLIAM HALL (re-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH). My brother is a machine manufacturer—he was under a contract with the defendant the same month that he became bankrupt to set up some machinery on his premises—it was worth more than 1,700l.—it was not put up—my brother went in to see the place where it was to be fitted into on the 17th or 18th of February, but Cooper stopped in the meantime—I saw my brother every day—I don't remember that I sold Cooper a further parcel of goods amounting to 40l. or 50l. as late as the 10th of January, 1873—I won't say I did not because I don't remember it.
By MR. BESLEY. The last two parcels I let him have were November 30th and February 14th—I believe he had no goods from me between those dates—of course my brother wanted to be paid for the machinery and it was not delivered.
JOSEPH PICKERING . I have been in the employ of the prisoner at Leicester—I remained with the prisoner as clerk and book keeper until he filed his petition for liquidation, and even after that—it was my duty to enter the invoices of the goods received or to see it done by an under clerk—I had a great deal to do with the business that was going on—the business became considerably larger shortly before the bankruptcy—the amount of goods bought increased before the petition was filed—this balance-sheet was made in January, 1871, under the prisoner's superintendence—that shows a balance of 3,239l. 10s. 8d.—Mr. Cooper dealt in leather in the raw material—I never recollect the time when he did not deal in leather, but he dealt very much more largely the latter end of his trading—I know of goods going to Glasgow during the last three or four months—a very large quantity during November, December, January, and February—Chamberlain was his traveller—he was his brother-in-law—I knew of telegrams and letters passing between them—there were also letters and telegrams from Chamberlain to the prisoner—they were filed on a special file for Mr. Chamberlain—as far as I know they were continually filed up to the time of the liquidation petition—I know nothing of their removal—I also knew of goods going to-Liverpool—sometimes they were sent in Mr. Cooper's name and occasionally in other names such as Mr. Jones—there was no one of the name of Jones in the establishment nor any consignee of that name, that was a fictitious name—when they went in that name they were sent on to Moses Levi—he was the ultimate purchaser—I also know of goods going to Brown & Rintoul—I have seen Brown very frequently at the
place of business during November, December, January, and February—being a very intimate friend of Mr. Cooper's he was at our warehouse very constantly and he did a very large business at Leicester—I knew of his going up to London with Mr. Cooper and of dealing with Mr. Cooper and buying things from him, unmanufactured goods—goods also went to Mr. Ward of Birmingham—he is an auctioneer and boot factor, buyer and seller—I know of goods being sent to London in the name of Brown—I presume that was Mr. John Brown, of the firm of Brown & Rintoul—I don't know that for certain, but I suppose that—all I know is that they were sent to Brown in London—I can't tell you what quantity of goods went to Glasgow in January—I only know that enormous quantities of goods were sold; our own manufactured goods—to my knowledge no parcel of leather, unmanufactured, bought in the raw material, was sent at all; a large bulk of our own manufactured goods—I prepared this account in conjunction with Mr. Cooper and I also made out this one (produced)—I making up the accounts I found some of the invoices written on by the prisoner showing the destination of the goods, so that I got the purchaser of the goods and the destination.
Cross-examined. I got all the information from the original invoices and the books which were then in the hands of the defendant—that tabulated statement shows the whole of the dealings for three months prior to February 24th, and I furnished that to Mr. Nicholson the trustee—the cash account and consignment account were furnished first, that was about March or April, 1873—the purchase and sales account was furnished afterwards, I believe in the month of May—my position was that of book keeper—I was well acquainted with the defendant's business—I remember him sending an agent to Australia with about l,000l. worth of goods—he got a very small portion of those goods returned as shown by the ledger—I recollect a customer of the name of Bennett failing in Liverpool—the defendant took over his shop and premises, and made large losses by the transaction—Bennett was indebted to him at the time he took them over—about the same time a person named Wesley Hayes failed—I can't speak to the amount that he owed the defendant—I recollect his taking cloth for the debt, and making large losses again on that transaction—Hayes debt was a large item—I can't say that it was 2,000l., for I can't speak to the amount—he lost very largely on that transaction, but I can't speak to anything definite—he had a fire at the end of 1871—he was insured in two offices, but I don't know the amount—I knew there was a large insurance—I know that he received from the Insurance Company 1,250l., and took to the salvage, instead of the Company paying him—I believe there was a large loss by the salvage, but to what extent it is impossible for me to say—there was a large loss by reason of the goods being so injured by the fire that they could not be worked—the defendant afterwards established a scheme of labour—the Last portion of the time he was employing about 2,000 men, boys, girls, and women on the establishment, and before that about 100 or 200—his scheme of labour was strongly opposed by the hands, and his own people struck repeatedly, and we were stopped very much in the execution of orders—he must have made considerable losses in 1872, because the orders were hindered we could not execute the orders—the defendant was a remarkably energetic man, what I used to call a good plucked one—I always thought he would pull through—he gave me the notion of being an indomitable Englishman, who was not going to yield—in 1872, I think, he paid for
wages, on an average, about 150l. a week—I know, also, that towards the end of 1872 the bank withdrew 15,000l. from his current account and placed it to his deposit account for bills discounted to protect themselves—I have heard of several friends who have offered to lend him large sums of money, which he has refused—we had began to take stock at the time of the fire.
Re-examined. The premises that were injured by fire were the Junior Street Shoe Works, Mr. Cooper's manufactory—he had no other place of business at the time of the fire—I was there at the time, and after—the place was not totally destroyed; simply injured by fire and water—men were sent down by the Fire office to see what the salvage was, and Mr. Cooper could have either taken the stuff or left it, as he liked—I don't. know the weight or the value of the salvage—there was an inventory mad which he, in the natural course, would have in his possession—I know there was a large quantity of goods being sent to Brown & Rintoul continually between November and February; I may say much larger than I ever knew go there before—I have no doubt it is correct that 352l. worth went in November, and in January 3,393l. worth—I did not know that the goods were being sacrificed at less than prime cost—my only reason for saying Mr. Cooper was an energetic man was that he was struggling against difficulties and had a great trouble, a great effort to meet his engagements month by month and Saturday by Saturday—I have known him as being such a resolute and clever, persevering business man and I always had faith that he would pull through—I made out the goods and purchase account at the request of Mr. Nicholson, and for that purpose I got the invoices of the goods which had come into the prisoner's possession in the three months—those invoices were all initialled and passed as the goods had arrived—he went through them invoice by invoice, and himself marked down the destination of the goods, and I made out the account by his directions.
JAMES BARBELL . I am a member of the firm of Barrell & Sons, leather merchants, Bermondsey—we have had dealings with Cooper—at the time of his liquidation we were unfortunately creditors for 1,807l. 2s. 5d.—he came to us about the 29th January, 1873, and inspected some goods, and he bought a parcel of goods on that day—he was by himself on that occasion—on two or three other occasions a man named Brown came with him when he bought the goods—the total amount of the invoice of the 29th January is 479l. 10s. 10d.—that included twenty-four dozen kid calf, 92l. 8s., and 14 cwt. 2 qrs. 15lbs. of sides, 93l. 17s. 11d—those two items were sold to him on the same day—the goods remain unpaid for.
BENJAMIN NICHOLSON . (re-called). I have taken considerable pains in investigating the accounts—I find that the balance sheet for 1871, shows a balance in the prisoner's favour of 2,702l.—he had it 3,200l., but upon my investigation of the books I reduced it to 2,702—I find that the assets on the 1st January, 1871, were 4,431l. 12s., and at the date of the petition they were 4,605l.—the liabilities on the 1st January, 1871, were 4,200l., and at the date of the failure, 18,777l.—the cash in hand at the failure, was 16s. 6d. and at the 1st of January, 1871, bills and cash 876l.—the balance sheet filed with the petition shows 5,000l. assets—they realized about 2,700l. gross—I don't think there is any further expectation—there was a great depreciation in some of the items arising from a forced sale—I find that the purchases greatly increased and were much larger during the last three or four months—the purchases for November, December, January, and
February prior to the failure amounted to nearly 18,000l. and the corresponding period in the preceding year 9,000l., just double—the purchases in June, July, and August preceding the failure amounted to 10,548l. against the corresponding period in the preceding year 4,622l.—the sale of leather was very much larger during the last twelve months, but I can't give you the figures—there were dealings in 1872 in unmanufactured leather, but they were small—the amount suggested by one of the Leicester witnesses exactly explained what I found by the books—he dealt to a small extent in unmanufactured leather with persons of whom he was in the habit of buying goods from—the last quantity of manufactured goods sent to Glasgow were sent to Chamberlain who disposed of them, but they were not at the time invoiced, they were simply weights and quantities; October 3 tons, November 3 tons odd, December 3 tons 4 cwt., January 7 tons 9 cwt., and for the first part of February 1 ton 5 cwt. I have left out the quarters and pounds, making about 20 tons—that was from the 24th October, four months prior to the filing of the petition—I find there were large consignments going to Glasgow corresponding with the dates of the telegrams—I also find goods going to Liverpool in the name of Jones, and, I find from the books, finally went to Moses Levi in large quantities—goods also went to Ward, of Birmingham, auctioneer and boot factor—some of the goods sent to Ward and Levi went through Brown, of London—I could not find out who that Mr. Brown was, I believe it is a fictitious name; sent to Brown, of London, and then to Birmingham and disposed of by auction—I did not discover Mr. Jones—I also found large quantities went to Brown and Rintoul, of Leeds'—the amounts were in November 352l., December 960l., January, 1873, 3,393l., and the small part of February 1,986l., making altogether over 6,000l. in those four months—I have made out a statement of goods sold at a loss which were not paid for at the date of the petition, with the purchaser and the person from whom purchased—the account shows a total loss of 4,000l. odd—there are twenty-seven items, making a total of 4,000l. all bought between November and February—I find that the goods were generally sold a day or two after they were bought at a loss and sometimes on the very day they were bought they were sold to Brown & Rintoul and sold at a loss, taking the discount into account, that is, he allows discount to his purchaser and has to pay the whole amount—I find in every case he allowed a larger discount than he is allowed himself if he paid cash—there is an item on the 31st December amounting to 1,472l. 4s. 2d. sold two or three days afterwards at the same price subject to a discount of 5 per cent.—the next item is Hemsworth, Lilley & Co., 4,540 Australian sides, amounting to 250l. 12s. 11d., and they were sold at a loss; they were bought at 14d. a pound and sold at 12 1/2 d.—the account contains a great number of items of that kind and every one of them come to a loss.
Cross-examined. I acquired all information from the bankrupt and the books—as far as I saw he gave that information with the most perfect frankness—I traced the goods from the papers he gave to me, I have only availed myself of the carriers for the purpose of tracing the destination—I found that the prisoner's statements were all true according to the books; there are no material differences—all the goods that were sold at a loss are in that document—I dare say there are seventy or eighty transactions, there are a great many, of which twenty-seven appear to be sold at a loss; taking the whole of the sales and purchases I find that the loss is much smaller if' you give him credit for those parcels which he sold at a profit—the twenty-seven
parcels show a loss and the other parcels reduce that loss considerably—the purchases for the last three months of his trading amount to 18,000l.—his payments in the meantime amounted to nearly the same, including wages—his payments were much heavier during the last two months preceding his bankruptcy—he was paying large sums for wages—he was not doing a business in 1871 of something like nearly 100.000l.; about 40,000l.—the sales in 1871 were 26,000l., in 1872 42,600l., and part of 1873 15,800l.—the purchases in 1871 were 20,271l. and the wages 4,300l.; the purchases in 1872 were 42,016l. and wages 7,600l.; and for the two months in 1873 the purchases were 8,421l. and the wages 1,784l.—all the time he was making purchases he was carrying on his business as a manufacturer of boots and shoes, making shoes and paying labour for that purpose—as far as I am able to ascertain all the monies he is shown to have received in respect of these goods, some of which were sold at a loss and some not, went in payment of his previous liabilities; they were employed in the payment of his previous debts—I saw communications from first-class houses prior to his stoppage offering him large credit—as far as I could judge he appeared to be a man in good credit even at the time of his stoppage—I examined his bill books and I found that up to the time of his failure his bills had been regulary met, with one or two exceptions—he seemed to me to be a very energetic man of business—I don't think his capital was smaller in 1871 when his" liabilities were 4,000l., subsequently I think his capital was too small for his business—he was a struggling man—it appears by the pass-book that 15,000l. was deposited at the bank—he has given up everything as far as I know—he offered at the time of his failure and before he was put into Bankruptcy Court to work under a committee of inspection until he had paid 10s. in the pound—I don't think there were a few bitter creditors—I believe the majority wished him to be made bankrupt—I don't know whether I may be permitted to make an observation on these accounts; the counsel has been examining me upon the goods that were sold at a loss; of course the losses on the manufactured goods, which I fear to be very considerable, are not traceable from the goods being made up and sold; I have not been examined on that, and thought it right to call your attention to it.
Re-examined. The payments which have been referred to include the cash and bills—I find a very large quantity of accommodation acceptances—they are included in the payments—they were cross acceptances in several instances—the bank required him to pay 15,000l. to the credit of his deposit account to secure them against the liability of the large amount of bills under discount.
GUILTY — One Month's Imprisonment.
SECOND COURT.—Tuesday, December 15th, 1874.
80. ROBERT McGOVERN (20), PLEADED GUILTY . to stealing one Albert chain and one handkerchief of Samuel Parsell, also one blanket and two sheets of Maria Hurst, also one watch of Richard Piper, having been before convicted of felony**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
81. GEORGE ROBERT CLISBY (34) , to embezzling the sums of 3l. 10s., 5l. 12s. 6d., 4l. 9s. 9d.,also 4l. 9s. 9d. and 2l. 3s. 4d., of Stephen Dummere, his master— [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] Judgment Respited.
(83) JAMES SPENCER (18), and JOHN ROBINSON (19) [Pleaded guility: see original trial image] , to stealing two sheets in the dwelling-house of George Gerrish and afterwards breaking out of the same, Spencer having been before convicted.
SPENCER**— Two Years' Imprisonment.
ROBINSON— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
84. ELLEN RODEN (20) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of George Restall and stealing therein three frocks, one shell, a basket, and other articles, his property. Second Count.—Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. WITHERS conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED MEMORY (Policeman R G 132). On 19th November I was on duty in Central Street, St. Luke's, and saw the prisoner and two men at 2.15 a.m. carrying this ornament with a shade on it—they all ran—I stopped the prisoner, she had this box under her arm, but the shade had gone off the ornament—she said that she bought them of Polly Gamble, of 17, Macclesfield Street, for 9d.—I inquired and found that no such person lived there—I afterwards found these other articles lying in a doorway just beyond where I had stopped her—I took them to her at the station and she said that she knew nothing of them—that was after I told her that I had been to Macclesfield Street.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I tell you that it was no good going there as the girl had moved away? A. No—I saw another young woman there—you said that we should find it correct if we went there and you told the inspector so too.
PENELOPE RESTALL . I live at 29, Charles Street, City Road—on the morning of 19th November I was aroused by a noise—I got up immediately and found the parlour door open, the drawers open and ransacked and things strewed all over the carpet—I missed" some apparel, a little case of shell flowers, and a case with a bird in it; they are my son's property—the street door was open, I think it had been opened by a false key, there was no appearance of violence—I had gone to bed at 10.30 and left the lock quite secure—there is a lamp outside and we draw the blind up to let the light on to the clock, and as I did so I saw two men outside—that was before I went downstairs.
GEORGE RESTALL . I was aroused by my mother at a few minutes to two o'clock—I got up, and found the parlour door wide open and the drawers ransacked—I missed a shade and a stuffed bird—I did not see the street door, but it was shut at 10.30.
ROBERT RESTALL . I live at 6, Longueville Road, Newington, Surrey, and am a collar cutter and a waiter—on 18th November I went to my mother's house to sleep—I got there at 12.40, and went in with a street-door key—I closed the street door after me.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know that they were stolen, or I would have had nothing to do with the young woman.
GUILTY on the Second Count— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. MATTHEWS conducted the Prosecution; and Mr. St. Aubyn the Defence.
SOLOMON WULLMAN . I am a tailor, of 94, Regent Street,—on 13th October the prisoner, whom I knew previously, came and ordered clothes to the amount of 6l.—he came again on the 14th to try them on, and brought me this cheque for 7l. 10s., which he asked me to cash, and I did so—he told me that he also had an account at the bank at Plymouth—I paid it into my bankers; and it was returned to me on the 17th, marked "Refer to drawer;" but earlier in the day the prisoner brought me a cheque for 9l. 9s. to pay for the clothes—I gave him 3l. 2s. change, paid the cheque in, and it was also returned—I know the prisoner's writing—this letter is written by him. (This was dated from Newton Abbott, requesting 'Mr. Wullman to let him know whether the cheques were all right, as he feared that during his illness there might not be money to meet them.) The cheques were presented three times.
Cross-examined. He had ordered goods of me before that, and had paid me one cheque on that very bank for 1l. 5s.—I have known him two years—he has been upstairs in my private house many times—he was introduced to me by a friend of mine—I met the prisoner accidentally at Paddington Station on 17th November, a month after the cheque was returned—he told me he was going to Newton Abbott; that is between Exeter and Plymouth—I saw my son leave Paddington in the same train with the. prisoner—I went to Marlborough Street next morning, and obtained a warrant.
Re-examined. He had not come to me before I met him at Paddington—before that he had been in the habit of doing so.
HENRY CROSS . I am manager of the West of England and South Wales Bank, Plymouth—the prisoner had an account there, but it was overdrawn 73l. is. 10d.—on 13th October these two cheques were presented and dishonoured—on 21st July I sent the prisoner his pass-book; he was then debtor 70l. 14s. 10d.—I saw him in August, and he gave me two bills which he wished to have discounted—I told him I could not do so, as I could not obtain sufficient information about the acceptors, but I would hold them till they were paid—he said "I am expecting a remittance every day, and will come in and pay the balance"—I told him I should pay no more cheques—the first letter I wrote to him in reference to his account was on 28th June, 1874—this is a copy of it (produced.)
Cross-examined. He opened his account in August, 1871, and an average of 1,000l. a year passed through the bank—he paid in 600l. during the last six months—I paid a cheque for 2l. 10s. next day, after giving him notice that he had overdrawn—it is not unusual for persons to overdraw, if they give security—we now hold this bill for 49l.; it is not due till next April—credit for 126l. was actually given to the prisoner on 23rd October—if a cheque for 100l. had come in next morning I should not have paid it; I should have asked them to present it again—he wrote to me on 9th November, and said "I am compelled to stop here; by to-morrow or the following day a large sum shall be paid in to my account. Will you then be good enough not to return my cheques if any be presented in the interval? I beg this as a particular favour"—a gentleman has, told me that he was about to advance him 1000l. if it had not been for his arrest.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
ELLEN HAGGERTY . I am the wife of Daniel Haggerty, of 13, Prince: Street—on 17th November a summons was taken out between the prisoner'; mistress and the landlady—the prisoner was a witness for the mistress, and I was a witness for the landlady—the summons was dismissed, and after we left the Court the prisoner threatened that he would do for me before the night was out—I said "What for, I never saw you before"—I crossed the road, he followed me, put his fist in my face, and said what he would do to me—I went straight home, and in about an hour and a half I was in the court, and he used very bad language, and said "I will do for you before the night is out"—I said "You use such beastly names I will knock you down with the prop," but I put it down—he went into the workshop, brought out a brick, and struck me with it on the forehead—I staggered, and my sister ran to the doctor with me—I was ordered to the hospital, and remained there a fortnight, and then I was not strong enough to appear at the Court, and went back to the hospital and waited till the Saturday following—I did not strike him with the prop or throw a brick at him—lam sure the brick was fetched from the workshop, it was dry.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not threaten to knock your brains out when you came out of the Court—I did not say "Where is that b——, Fox?" did not know who you were or where you lived, and I did not know you were there—I did not threaten on the Friday to knock your brains out, I did not know you or any of Mr. Rubery's working men.
WILLIAM CRAGG . I am a coal merchant, of 13, Princes Street—on 17th November, about 4.30, I heard a noise in the back yard, went out, and the prisoner was in the yard adjoining using disgusting language, and threatening to knock Mrs. Haggerty's b——brains out—she had a clothes prop in her hand, and said she would knock him down with it if he made use of such beastly disgusting language—she did not strike him with it, if she had I must have seen her—I tried to take it from her, and she gave it to me—the prisoner then rushed off to the workshop—his master and mistress were standing on a little mound of dirt kicking up a disturbance, and the prisoner came out with a, brick, and, with an oath, said that he would knock her b——brains out, and then threw it at her—it struck her on the face and he rushed through the house—she did not throw a brick at him, she had nothing in her band after I took the prop.
Cross-examined. She did not have a brick in her hand—I did not tell her to fight you—I had to contend with five or six of you—you wanted to fight me in the road.
GEORGE THORNTON . I am a cabinet maker—I heard a disturbance, went into the yard, and saw Mrs. Haggerty quarrelling with Mr. and Mrs. Rubery—I did not see the prisoner in the yard then, but he rushed out with a brick in his hand, and threw it at Mrs. Haggerty—it hit her in the face, and he ran away—I followed him, but could not catch him—I saw him bring the brick from the workshop.
Cross-examined. I did not see you go into the workshop, but I saw you return with the brick in your hand.
ROLAND SMITH . I am house surgeon to the London Hospital—on 17th November Mrs. Haggerty was brought there with a laceration across her nose and forehead, and a compound fracture of the nasal bone—she was discharged on December 3rd to go to Worship Street, but she fainted, and I took her in again—it requires considerable force to break the nasal bone—this brick would be likely to cause those injuries.
JAMES COWLEY (Policeman H 46). On the 17th November, about 7.30, I took the prisoner and told him it was for violently assaulting a woman lying in the London Hospital—he made no answer—he said at the station "I got into this mess by taking other people's part—she threw the brick at me first and I threw it back."
Witnesses for the Defence.
THOMAS GOWIN . On 17th November the prosecutrix came up to the door and said something very bad and that she would knock the prisoner's d——d eyes out—I afterwards went down to see how they got on with the summons and the prosecutrix was in the yard with a prop and said she would have his b——eye out—Cragg took the prop from her and she took up. the brick, but who threw it first I cannot say—I saw it in her hand five or sis minutes.
Cross-examined. She threatened to throw it at him.
JAMES MCDONALD . On the 17th November a summons was taken out at Worship Street between Mrs. Cragg and Margaret Rubery, the prisoner was a witness and the case was dismissed on his evidence—as we left the prosecutrix said "You b——white-livered swine I will pay you before the night is out," and she came up again and said "You b——white-livered swine I will brain you before the night is out," and she went to my brother and said "Send the b——white-livered swine out"—she also said "I will put you where you came from"—I said "Where is that?"—she said "In Worship Street"—I heard a disturbance in the yard and saw her with a prop in her hand and she said "You b——white-livered swine I will gouge your eye out," and then she took up a brick and said "You b——white-livered swine I will brain you."
Cross-examined. She threw the brick—it is in our shop now—I did not know that there was any occasion to bring it—we found it the next morning—the prisoner stooped and avoided it, it did not hit him.
By THE COURT. It was the half of an old brick—there were I think about three old bricks lying in the yard—I am sure that the one she threw at him we found the following morning on a bench.
----RUBERY On 17th November a summons was taken out by Mrs. Cragg against Mrs. Rubery—the prisoner was a witness for Mrs. Rubery and the injured party was a witness on the opposite side—I was outside the Court—the case was dismissed, and when the prisoner got outside the Court Mrs. Haggerty flew at him and said "Where is that knife-nosed b——?" said "What are you to do with it Ma'am? it is nothing to do with you," and I said to the prisoner "Do get away, come straight home—we crosssed the road and several females were with the injured woman who molested us with their blackguard language, they crosssed over to us and threatened to punch the prisoner's nose out and mine also—we went to a public-house and sat there half an hour I said "Perhaps they have got home now," and we went on our way home and called in at the Queen's Head public-house—I said that the injured woman was "coming to kick up a row again, do be quiet, she threatens your life"—I then went on an errand and met my child five years old in the street who said "Mrs. Haggerty has hit me on the head with a cullendar"—I felt his head and it was cut—I went into the road and saw Mrs. Haggerty with a brick in her hand—she said "I don't want to hurt you, I only want that beast-eyed b——."
Cross-examined. I am quite sober but excited.
By THE COURT. She threw the brick, but I did not see where it went to—I did not see the prisoner in the yard, but Mrs. Haggerty had the brick in her hand six or seven minutes saying "Bring him out, bring him out"—I said "Why don't you knock the brick out of her hand"—I suppose they both threw bricks, because the nest morning I found a brick on my bench—I was protecting my wife because Mrs. Haggerty said "Stand clear, Mrs. Rubery, I don't want to hurt you."
MARGARET RUBERY . The prosecutrix used very violent threats to the prisoner at Worship Street, and said that she would have his brains before night—we crossed the road to get away from her violence, and she still said the same—I saw her afterwards in the yard with a clothes prop to gouge out his eyes, but Mr. Cragg took it away from her, and she instantly took a brick in her hand, held it several minutes, and threatened to throw it—she said "Stand aside, Mrs. Rubery, I do not want to hurt you, but that b——white-livered swine, you have not English to deal with, but Irish"—the prisoner said "If you drop your brick I will drop mine," and instantly the bricks were exchanged, and I saw Mrs. Haggerty put her apron up to her face, and walk away to the doctor's—she did not fall.
Prisoner's Defence. Do you think I should assault that woman when we won the summons; she assaulted me in Worship Street, and threatened to knock my brains out; she also used foul language in the yard, picked up a prop, and tried to gouge my eye out, but McDonald guarded it off. She then picked up a brick, and I said "If you throw that at me I shall throw this at you;" she threw her brick at me, and I returned mine at her, but I did not intend to hurt her, only to frighten her, as she is a desperate woman.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding, under great provocation— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. A. B. KELLY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLE the Defence.
JOHN DAWSON . I am in the employ of Mr. Parfett, of Feltham—on 5th November, at 5 p.m., he had a sheep named Billy, in a small paddock adjoining the kitchen garden—about 7.10 the next morning I went there and found nothing but the fore quarters and the head—I communicated with the police, and Cooper went with me to the paddock—we compared the skin with a part of it which had been brought from Staines, and the two portions corresponded—there is no doubt that they belonged to the same carcase.
MATTHEW MORRIS . On the last day of November I was with Reed, the carman, leading a horse on the Charlton Road about 9 p.m.—I felt a weight on the back of the cart, and found a-man there—I should not know him—I told him he must get off—he went to the other side of the road, and I never saw him afterwards—I put my hand to the back of the cart and felt part of a sheep—I then brought Reed to the back of the cart, and we sent for the police, and gave them the sheep—while the police were at the Spellthorne Inn the prisoner came up, looked at the sheep, and said "If you want me you know where to find me."
Cross-examined. I did not hear whether Reed had said anything to him—it was a very wet night, and we had been on the road from 3 a.m. till 9 p.m.—it was a market gardener's cart laden with dung—it had been raining part of the time, and the roads were wet and muddy—there was a ladder
at the back of the cart level with the cart—the inn is about five minute walk from the place where I felt some one behind the cart.
JOSEPH REED . On 30th November the boy who was with me coming home spoke to me, and I went to the back of the cart and found the hind part of a sheep—we went on to the Spellthorne Inn, and going along I saw a man following us; he kept at one distance behind us, and when we stopped at the inn he came up, and it was the prisoner—I asked him whether he was the man who put the sheep on the cart, he said "No"—I said "It is very strange, you are the man who followed me"—he said "Don't you know me, Joe?"—I said "No"—he said "Don't you know John Green?"—I said "Yes"—he said "That he was at home if he was wanted"—I sent for the police, and gave them the sheep—it was about a mile from Feltham where the boy showed me the sheep in the cart.
Cross-examined. I sent the boy to mind the horse and I went to the back of the cart—the man went down the Staines Road—the ladder fixes into the cart on some irons; it is about 6 feet wide, and wider than it is broad—I did not know the prisoner till he said "Don't you know me, Joe?—I knew where he lived—it had been a very wet, soaking day, and I had been on the road ever since 3 o'clock in the morning.
By THE COURT. Q. When you went to the back of the cart, was he sitting on the ladder? A. No, he was off the cart and was following me—there was a place for him to sit there—the quarter of the sheep was lying on the tail, and he could have sat next to it.
Re-examined. The prosecutor's premises are about three-quarter a of a mile from where my attention was attracted by the boy.
HENRY HOOPER (Policeman T 199). On the 30th November, about 9 o'clock, I went to the Spellthorne Inn and saw the hind quarters of a sheep, with the skin on and quite warm—in consequence of what I heard I went to the prisoner's house—he looked out of the window, and I was admitted—I asked him if he had been to Feltham; he said "No, he had been to his brother's"—I saw his trousers on the back of a chair by the fire; I examined them, and found spots of blood—I examined his coat, which was on another chair, and saw wool on the collar and on his cap—I told him I should take him on suspicion of stealing a sheep—he made no reply, and I took him in custody—next morning I went to the inn, and in a little paddock at the back of the house I saw the fore quarters of a sheep—the hind quarters were at the station—I saw them compared before the Bench, and they agreed exactly—the skin also matched—I compared the prisoner's boots with the footprints where the sheep was killed, and they corresponded—the nails go right through the waist to the heel, and they are neither square nor round—the boots are now on the prisoner's feet.
Cross-examined. When I knocked at the door he came to the window, and asked who was there—I said "Police-constable Simms" and he came down and let me in—he has got the trousers on; he has no others.
ALFRED SIMMS (Policeman T 264). I went with Hooper to the Spellthorne Inn, and saw a sheepskin; we then went to the prisoner's house, and found him undressed—his trousers had been washed as high as the knees, and above that there were marks of fresh blood, and also on his coat—I called his attention to that, and he made no reply—I found this wool (produced) on his coat, and some on his whiskers, and on his cap, which was a woolly one.
Cross-examined. I found several drops of blood on his trousers; it was
round, here (on the right hip)—I found no instrument on his premises with which a sheep could be slaughtered, but I found two choppers—I stated on the remand that the blood on his trousers was still wet—ho was taken in custody about 11 o'clock.
JOSEPH REED (re-examined). It was the boy's cart, not mine—I did not notice any blood on the tail of the cart, but the boy's father said that there was blood and wool on the ladder next morning, and on the tail of the cart.
COURT to A. SIMS. Q. Was the blood on the seat of the trousers? A. Yes; two large patches, and a drop or two in front—they appeared to have been washed as high as the knees, and there was no mud on them—his shoes had been washed also.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. B. KELLY offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
CHARLOTTE HOW . I am a female warder of the House of Correction, Westminster—I have known the prisoner for the last three or four years—she was tried at Middlesex Sessions on 20th March, 1871, for stealing la. 10d. from the person, and sentenced to six months' imprisonment—this is the certificate (produced), it relates to the prisoner.
Prisoner. I have only been with her once; I don't dispute that.
GUILTY **— Two Years' Imprisonment.
90. ALFRED MACKWELL JENKINS (27), Was indicted (with CHARLES COLE , not in custody,) for stealing goods, value 109l. in the dwelling-house of Sir Frederick Nicholson, and MARTHA SMITH (28) , feloniously receiving the same. JENKINS was further charged with stealing an umbrella, the property of his master, and SMITH with receiving the same Other Counts charged JENKINS with receiving.
MR. STRAIGHT offered no evidence against SMITH.
NOT GUILTY .
JENKINS PLEADED GUILTY. to receiving — Judgment Respited.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES HISCOCK . I am a plumber in the service of Cubitt & Co., Gray's Inn Road—on 4th December the prisoner brought me this order for 40, 50, or 56 lbs. of lead—I asked him if he came from Mr. Pugh, the master of the job—he said "No, from his son"—I knew' that he was doing work at 8, Sussex Square—this is not Mr. Pugh's signature—I don't know the son's signature—I do not know the prisoner.
EDWARD PUGH . I am a carpenter, of 16, Little College Street, Chelsea, and am at work at 8, Sussex Square for Messrs. Cubitt—my father is foreman of the job—the prisoner was employed there and was discharged on 20th November and not employed afterwards—this is not my signature or my father's—I did not give it to him—I had no authority to write such an order.
charge—he said "Yes, I made the order, I wanted some money, I had just come out of prison."
Prisoner's Defence. I was ignorant of the offence. I did not know what forgery meant.
He was further charged with having been convicted at Clerkenwell in December, 1874, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. Mr. Pugh gave him a good character— Judgment Respited.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BELL . I am clerk to William Charles Anderson, a wine merchant, of Lime Street—I gave the prisoner a pipe of mine to mend in November, and on 19th November I left the office leaving the cash-box on a ledge on the swing door between Mr. Anderson's office and mine—there is a small passage between—it contained 1l. 10s. 6d., about 10s. worth of stamps, a cheque for 42l. 15s., seven wine warrants, and a copy of an invoice—I missed it on my return—the prisoner never came afterwards about my pipe.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You came to me on Thursday, the 19th, with my pipe case and told me you had left the pipe to have a mouthpiece put on and you-promised to bring it in the afternoon about 1 o'clock—I left the office at 4.25, leaving the cash-box on the swing door.
By THE COURT. There are two offices in one room divided by a glass partition and there is a shelf on the swing door between them—mine is the front and is a public office; Mr. Anderson's is at the back and is private—you have to pass the swing door to go to—Mr. Anderson's room, but not to go through it—the distance between Mr. Anderson's door and my door is four or five feet, and this swing door is half way between, that would make it 2 feet 6 inches from the front door to the swing door—I did not carry the box into Mr. Anderson's office because he was engaged—I left no one in my office—I do not know-what time elapsed before the prisoner came in. By the Prisoner. You have worked in the office for me twice and I have twice paid you out of the cash box.
WILLIAM CHARLES ANDERSON . I am a wine merchant of Lime Street—my office is on the left hand side as you go in and it is divided by a glass partition railing off the clerks' part and next to that there is a swing door with a flap on the top for receipting accounts—I saw the cash-box there after Mr. Bell had placed there—there is another office downstairs where a clerk named Simpson sometimes works—I remember Bell going out on the afternoon of 19th September, and Simpson came up to take charge—the prisoner who I had never seen before came into the office and began speaking about a pipe—I was busy and I told him I knew nothing about it, he must call again when Mr. Bell was in—he left and had had time to get to the front door when he came back and said "Would you give me a wet?—I felt annoyed and told him if he had any business to see my clerk, Simpson, downstairs—I had sent Simpson down to copy some letters before the prisoner came in and there was nobody in-the office—I told the prisoner to go away and he did so—Mr. Simpson afterwards missed the cash box—nobody could have taken it except the prisoner, nobody was there after Mr. Bell left but Simpson and the-prisoner.
Cross-examined. I last saw the cash box at 5.5 or 5.10, it was then on the spring door—I told Simpson to go down about 5.15 or 5.20—you knocked at the door and I answered you—you walked up to the table to me—it was then 5.25—I did not take the cash box inside because it was there for the purpose of the letters being stamped for the post—when you left the office the third time you partially drew the glass door—I can see into the office from where I sit, but I cannot see the cash-box though I can see into that part of the lobby where anybody must come to get in—I cannot swear that the cash-box was there when you came in or that you took it.
By THE COURT. The lower part of the partition is solid wood and any one crouching down could come in without my seeing them, but I would hear them—there is an outer door which any body must pass and I could hear that.
Re-examined. I saw the cash-box eight minutes before the prisoner came in—Simpson was absent six minutes—I heard nobody else in the office.
JAMES SIMPSON . I am clerk to Mr. Anderson—about 5.20 I went down to the lower office to copy some letters leaving the cash box on the counter—I was about six minutes copying the letters and had to come up for some stamps out of the cash-box and it was gone—I did not see the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I copied about half-a-dozen letters in the six minutes—I enclose them upstairs.
Re-examined. I copy them by a press.
Prisoner's Defence. I have been in the habit of going round for years past repairing for wine merchants and no one has ever said that they lost anything while I was at work I knocked at the door, Mr. Anderson said "Come in." I went in and if there had been any cash-box there then I should have seen it; there was free ingress and egress to everybody, and there is no telling who goes in. Mr. Anderson was out of temper and answered me as if I was a dog. I may have asked him for a wet, which is not unusual when we are working for wine merchants. I do not believe the cash-box was there when I went there. It was not impossible for a person to have gone in and taken the cash-box, and because I went in next I am the victim.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, December 16th, 1874.
Before Mr. Justice, Quain.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. STRAIGHT and GILL the Defence
EMMA OLIVER . I am the wife of Alfred Oliver—I keep a wardrobe shop at 59, Great St. James Street, Lisson Grove; it is one door from the Grove—I have known the prisoner about two years, he has lodged with me just upon two years, at that house—he was married, and his wife lived with him, they occupied the second floor front room, they only had the one room, it was more of a living room, there was a bed in the room—he is a shoemaker by trade—he used to work in his room and take the work home, to his master, Mr. Bosher—his wife died a little over three months ago, about four
months now I should say, as near as I can remember—she died in that room—I did not know the deceased, Emma Bellamy—I had never seen her with the prisoner—he had spoken to me about her; about a week before the crime he told me that she was very respectable and a nice young widow—I saw her come out of the house one morning near upon 12 o'clock, and having no female lodger I wondered where she came from and I went up and asked the prisoner if he had bad a visitor—he said it was a visitor of his, that she was very respectable and I need not be afraid—he gave me to understand that he was keeping company with her—I did not see her again until this matter occurred on Saturday, 17th October—up to that day the prisoner did not keep much to his work, very little, but he was very-quiet with it always, I seldom knew when he was at work or not—he was a very sober man, I never saw him the worse for drink—on Saturday, 17th October, somewhere about 2 o'clock, I was in my parlour—I heard some faint screams of "Murder!" and "Help!"—I thought at first it was in the Grove and I ran out into the Grove with one of my little boys; seeing nothing there, I returned and I heard it again; I opened my parlour door and then heard that it came from the prisoner's room upstairs—I ran up stairs and knocked at the door; I tried the door, it was locked, I ricked the handle about and knocked at the door very loudly and said "Cranwell, what are you doing to that woman?"—after a few minutes I heard him repeat once to her "You have deceived me," and I heard the woman say once "Oh, spare my life!"—that of course alarmed me more, and I told him if he did not open the door I would break it open, but I had no answer; the woman said "Break it open"—I then broke the door open somehow, I pushed my foot against it very violently in my fright and the door flew open and I went into the room—the woman was lying across the bed, not in the ordinary way, but" across it—I did not see her face the first minute I went in, I went close by the side of the bed to look for her face—the prisoner was kneeling on the bed, very near to her—the woman's face was covered with blood—I said "Oh, Cranwell, what have you done?" or something to that effect—he did not say a word, he never spoke to me—I saw a knife lying under the pillow as I was coming out, it was a small shoemaker's knife—I then flew down and called my husband—I then ran down to a little boy who was minding the shop, and from that I ran across the road to speak to a neighbour—my husband had followed me down and he sent the little boy for a policeman—when my husband returned from the shop doorway we opened the parlour door and-were going out with a view of going up to Cranwell's room, when we saw the deceased come running down the stairs—my husband caught her at the bottom step and while he was laying her down in the passage Cranwell came running down the stairs as if going to see where she was—he never spoke a word to me—I then shut the door and left it to the police and the rest; I believe the prisoner returned upstairs again to get his hat or something and I afterwards saw him run up the Grove for the doctor; that was immediately after he had run upstairs; be seemed as if he had come to himself and went for a doctor, and Dr. Brisbane came and attended to the woman.
Cross-examined. The prisoner and his deceased wife had lived on very affectionate terms—during the last fifteen months of her life she was in a very distressing state of health—she had been attending a dispensary", there was a blow up of the gas and she was very much injured—she also suffered from some internal complaint—the prisoner was very kind and attentive to her, and most considerate, I saw a deal of that—from my experience of Him
during the two years he was with us he was a man of very humane disposition and temperament—I think it was only a week before this Saturday that I had the conversation with him about the woman having been to his room, it may have been a little longer, it may have been a week or ten days, I could not say; I had never seen her before that day, she was then leaving the house about 12 o'clock—I can't say whether she had slept in the house that night—the prisoner was the only lodger we had—whether she had come in with him overnight I can't say, I know nothing of that—from the time of his wife's death he seemed in a state of great despondency and melancholy at times, and he repeated several times to me how he missed his poor old lady—I don't know whether he was in the habit of sitting in his room doing nothing; I never was in his room after the funeral day—I dare say he was not so regular in his work during the last fortnight, or three weeks prior to this occurrence, he seemed unsettled; he. seemed very unsettled from the time of the funeral; he did not seem to get more settled—it was not more than ten minutes from the time I heard, the first scream till I got up to his door; I don't think it was more than ten minutes from first to last, I really could not say, but it was all done very quickly, a very few minutes—I was very much excited and frightened—I only heard the expression "You have deceived me" and once I heard the woman say "No, no"—when I called out to him he made no reply—when I burst open the door he was on his knees on the bed—he looked at me—I said something to him, he made no reply, he remained kneeling on the bed—I did not notice whether he had anything in his hand—I said before the Magistrate "He appeared to me like a man in a fit"—when he went to fetch the doctor he seemed as if he bad come to himself—when he was kneeling on the bed he looked as if he did not know, me, he looked mad, scared—his eyes were full of a very peculiar looking expression, he stared at me in a very wild way—I went up to the bedside, he remained kneeling on the bed, he never moved while I was in the room—I was a very short time in the room, only the, moment I spoke to him, when I saw her face I rushed off directly—she did not speak—I did not notice any matches lying at the foot of the bed or near the fireplace, or whether the fire was just lighted, I never looked, I was too frightened—I did not go into the room afterwards—I remember his coming in on the Saturday, my husband was at home—we occupy all the house but the top room—we were in the parlour behind the shop at dinner; the lodger coming in from the street would pass the parlour door in the passage and go upstairs; the door was shut, he would not see anything of us—I merely heard him with his latch key and walk upstairs very quickly,—he had a latch key to come in at any time he liked—I know that the woman came in with him on that occasion, I looked round and just caught sight of her dress as she was going upstairs.
Re-examined. I had not seen or spoken to the prisoner that day; I might have spoken to him on the previous day, I don't remember, I generally saw him every day.
By THE COURT. During the three months that elapsed from the time of his wife's death till 17th October I did not observe anything at all that was strange or irrational about him; he was very low spirited and very miserable—I did not know how long he had been married to his wife, but a great many years, I believe—during the last three months he did not take to his work, he seemed so unsettled; I think he had been drinking during that period; I don't know that he had drink in the house, I
could not tell that; he did not send out for it—I don't know whether he had his meals at home, he kept himself very much to himself, I knew nothing of his affairs, he was a very good lodger—my husband and he did not associate together, only just to pass the time of day—my husband is a very reserved man; they were not intimate, they never went out together or smoked together.
ALFRED OLIVER . I live at 59, Great James Street, and am the husband of the last witness—I have known the prisoner somewhere about a year and nine months, while he was lodging at my house—sometimes I did not see him once in six weeks when his wife was alive—I have no recollection when I saw him before 17th October; I saw him on that day in the Grove Road, somewhere about 12 o'clock, with a female—I did not know who she was—had never seen her before—I did not speak to him or he to me he was on one side of the road and I on the other—on this Saturday I was asleep—my wife awoke me and told me that Cranwell was doing something to some woman—I got up shortly afterwards—I heard smothered screams; they appeared to come from upstairs—I did not hear any words, only the screams—I was in the first floor front room—the prisoner's room was over that—I went downstairs and sent the boy after a policeman, and as I came back from the shop door I saw the deceased woman coming down the stairs, she was half way down the lowest flight, she had no boots on; she was walking by herself, she was covered with blood; she had one hand on the banisters, and with the other hand supporting herself by the wall—I caught her—she fell into my arms at the foot of the stairs—I laid her down in the passage—she did not say anything to me—I did not see the prisoner at that time—I went out to the shop door to call for assistance, I called a neighbour over, and by the time I came back and he came over, which was two or three-minutes, the prisoner had come downstairs—he stopped within two stairs of the bottom.—I said to him "A very bad job, Cranwell," or words to that effect—the woman was lying in the passage at this time—I was between him and the woman—the only answer he made was "She has deceived me"—he then ran upstairs again—the boy had come back with the policeman just then, and the prisoner came downstairs again—I or the neighbour proposed going for a doctor and the prisoner said he would go for the doctor—he went out—he had no hat on when he came down the second time—the policeman came in just as the prisoner was starting for the doctor and he, went with, him—Dr. Brisbane afterwards came with the prisoner and the policeman, and he attended to the woman—since his wife's death I had seen the prisoner perhaps once or twice a week.
Cross-examined. I am a letter carrier—my work takes me out a great deal—beyond seeing him come in and out I knew very little of him—I commence nay duty about-6 o'clock in the morning and get done about 12, and then go on at 3—I am away from the house the better part of the day—I lie down in the middle of the day, that is my custom—this all occurred in about five minutes, altogether.
Re-examined. The prisoner used to pay his rent to my wife weekly—there was none owing at the time.
By THE COURT. I knew very little of the prisoner, I knew no harm of him; I did not associate with him—I did not smoke with him or have a glass of beer with him. above twice since he lived with us—I can't say that I observed any change in his manner or conduct since his wife's death, no more than he seemed very dull; he had the upper part of the house all to himself, working there—he seemed dull when I did see him.
CHARLES MARTIN (Policeman D 201). On Saturday afternoon, 17th October, I was on duty in Lisson Grove—about 2.25 in consequence of what I heard I went to 59, Great James Street—when I first went into the shop I was told by a man who beckoned me into the shop to follow the prisoner who came rushing out of the shop as I went in; he passed me in the shop—I don't think he was near enough to hear what was said to me—I followed him to Dr. Brisbane's, that was about 200 yards off; he walked, and I followed; he was some distance in front of me—I was in uniform—he opened the door at the doctor's and was standing with the door open in his hand when I got up to him; Dr. Brisbane was there—I asked the prisoner what was the matter—he made no answer, but I heard him say to the doctor "Be quick, doctor, be quick"—that was all I heard him say—the doctor then put his hat on and with me followed the prisoner back to the shop—I went into the passage and saw the woman lying down there—the doctor proceeded to examine her and while he was examining her the prisoner said that it was not only her throat cut, but she had scalp wounds—I then asked the prisoner who did it—he told me, at the same time showing me his hands, that he did it with his own hands—I saw then that he had blood on his hands—I told him that I should take him into custody on a charge of attempted murder—he said "Very well," but he must have his hat—I asked where his hat was—he said "Upstairs"—I told him I would send some one to fetch it, but he insisted upon going himself to fetch it—I followed him upstairs to the room and he fetched his hat—it was in the top floor front room—I won't say positively, but I believe it was on the side table, he had to go round the foot of the bed to get it—on going upstairs I asked him if the woman was his wife—he said "No," his wife had been dead some time, but that this woman had deceived him—I then took him to the Police Station and left him in charge of the sergeant and went back to the house—the Magistrate had not arrived when I took the prisoner from the house—he was quite sober—there was nothing in his manner that attracted my attention, not the least in the world—I had seen him before, but I can't say that I knew anything of him—I had seen him in the neighbourhood—I knew what he was by trade.
Cross-examined. He was in front of me in going to the doctor, he walked pretty quick—he walked back again to the house in front of us; I was 2 or 3 yards behind him; he went straight back to the house—I noticed the bed in the room, it stood 3 or 4 feet from the door—I did not notice the fireplace—I was present when the deceased made a statement to the Magistrate on that Saturday.
Re-examined. The Magistrate's clerk was there and took it down in writing.
JAMES BRISBANE . I live at 30, Lisson Grove—I am a Doctor of Medicine—on Saturday, 17th October, about 2.30,. the prisoner came to my house, he beckoned me and told me to come at once with him if I wanted to save a life—I asked him what was the matter, I received the same answer, "Come at once if you want to save a life"—I then went with him, he took me to 59, Great James Street, it took us two or three minutes to get there—I went into the passage and found a woman lying there with her throat cut, bleeding profusely—I examined the throat, it was an incised wound between 3 and 4 inches long and 1 1/2 deep, none of the large arteries were cut—the windpipe was cut but not severed—I did what I could to stop the bleeding—while I was examining her the prisoner said "It is not
the throat alone, but there are scalp wounds as well"—I then examined the head and found there were nine scalp wounds, five on the left side of the head and four on the right, varying from 1/4 inch to 1 1/2 inch in length, and all of them in point of depth were down to the bone—they were such wounds as might have been inflicted with a shoemaker's hammer or any other blunt instrument—I heard the prisoner say that he had done it—afterwards Mr. Mansfield, the Magistrate, came to the house with his clerk I thought the woman was sinking when I saw her first—I did not see the prisoner taken away by the policeman, I was too much engaged in attending to the woman—it was about half an hour after I got to the house that the Magistrate came—I heard the woman make a statement to the Magistrate which the clerk wrote down; she was exceedingly exhausted at the time from loss of blood; my opinion was that she would sink at that time—I don't remember that I said anything to her as to her condition—the statement took about ten or twelve minutes, after that I had her removed to St. Mary's Hospital, I went to the hospital with her and left her in charge of the house surgeon, I did not see her afterwards—at that time my opinion as to her life was exceedingly unfavourable.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that when the prisoner cam to my house he was in a state of the greatest excitement, "wild" is. I think father too strong an expression; he was in a state of great excitement, he first of all beckoned to me with his finger and then caught hold of me by the arm and dragged me towards the door, using the words I have stated—I have been in active practice fifteen years and a half—in the course of my experience I have come across a good many cases of diseases of the mind—insanity has different phases and different shapes, you can hardly find two cases exactly alike—I have read a good deal on the subject—there is imbecility, which can be detected at a glance; there are many maniacs who are insane upon particular points and quite sound" upon others; they may go through life discharging the ordinary business of life and yet upon one particular subject be quite out of their mind—there is a form of insanity known as "impulsive insanity"—I have read of cases of a man being to all appearance of sound mind down to the commission of an act and after the act, and yet at the time of committing the act being insane; that would be a case coming under the class of impulsive insanity—all these medicolegal questions are I think to a considerable extent matters of opinion—in forming an opinion as to whether a person was insane at the time he committed an act, I should decidedly take into account an heriditary taint of insanity in his family—I have seen it stated by writers on insanity that where insanity is shown in the father it most frequently shows itself in the sons, and where it is shown in the mother it more frequently shows itself in the daughters; I have not observed it myself in my own experience—I think it is a matter worthy of attention that after the commission of an act the person does not attempt to evade justice; that would depend to some extent upon where he was at the time—the exhibition of his bloody hands and saying "I have done it," is a circumstance that I should take into account; it is certainly peculiar—these circumstances taken together I would say are significant—the commission of an act without apparent motive, and towards a person with whom he had been upon affectionate terms, would be an important matter for consideration and would strongly weigh upon my judgment in coming to a conclusion whether the person was of sound mind or not.
Re-examined. I was only in the prisoner's company a few minutes; I should say not five minutes altogether—his exact words were "I did it he also said it was not only the throat, there were scalp wounds as well—I found that was correct—he went upstairs to fetch his hat, and came down with it—when I came out of my house I saw a policeman there in uniform, and he and I followed the prisoner—as to the not attempting to escape being an evidence of insanity, that depends upon all the circumstances; it is nothing in itself—by "impulsive insanity" I mean a man that is seized with some sudden impulse and commits a rash act—a man being suddenly angry at something and committing serious injury would scarcely amount to impulsive insanity; I mean a sudden violent act from an inadequate motive; I would scarcely say any violent act—a man cutting a woman's throat and knocking her head about with, a hammer, I should be disposed to call an act of impulsive insanity, Be being sane immediately before and after; I should judge that to be impulsive insanity, because the motive was not sufficiently adequate; that is my view—I should scarcely say so of a man becoming suddenly jealous and striking a violent blow—it is really very difficult to draw the line, there are such metaphysical distinctions.
By THE COURT. The woman was lying in the passage, and he was standing at the bottom of the stairs when he said "I did it"—I think he used the expression that there were scalp wounds before he said that; that was while I was examining the throat, to call my attention to other wounds—I observed nothing' extraordinary or particular in his conduct or manner during the whole of the time after I went with him until he was taken away by the policeman; when he came to me he was in a state of great excitement, but after that I did not observe him very closely, because I was too much engaged in attending to the woman to pay attention to him.
JAMES AUSTIN (Police Inspector D). On Saturday, 17th October, about 2.30, I saw a crowd outside 59, Great James Street—I went inside, and found the deceased lying in the passage—at that time the doctor had arrived, and was attending to her—I went upstairs to the second floor front room—the prisoner had then been taken away by the constable—I examined the room—there was a table in the centre of the room, on which I found this shoemaker's knife (produced)—there was blood upon it—by the side of the bed, on the floor, I found this short-handled shoemaker's hammer, with apparently some hair upon it; it may not be human hair, it is some short hair—the bed was saturated with blood—I found nothing else on that occasion—I locked up the room, and kept the key—on Monday morning the 19th, about 9 o'clock, I went to the room again, and on the top of the cupboard I found this other shoemaker's hammer; it has blood and hair upon it, both on the handle and the hammer—it was on the top of a very high cupboard, six or seven feet high; a tall man could reach it—I took charge of it—I saw the prisoner at the station on the Saturday afternoon, about 5 o'clock—I took the charge—he was charged with felonious assaulting Emma Bellamy, with intent to murder—I read the charge to him, and he said "Yes"—I noticed nothing in his manner or demeanour, he was quite cool and collected—I am not quite sure whether the room door was locked when I first went to it—the constable went with me—I was able to lock it.
Cross-examined. There was a shoemaker's board in the room, and a
basket, and a lot of tools—some were lying about the room and some on the board—they were all by the side of the bed, a large number—I did not notice whether the fire had been set light to and gone out—the fireplace was in a very dirty state; there were kettles and saucepans—there was a kettle on the hob with water in it, and a teapot on the table or in the fireplace—I was present when the deceased made her statement to the Magistrate—I was before the Coroner; Fanny Deeley, a sister of the deceased, was examined there.
WILLIAM B. LINDSAY . I am house surgeon at St. Mary's Hospital, Paddington—I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and a licentiate of the Society of Apothecaries—I was at the hospital on Saturday, 17th October—I saw the deceased Emma Bellamy, and attended to her up to 25th October, when she died—I made a post-mortem examination—the immediate cause of death was erysipelas, and that was caused by the wounds on the scalp—there were nine wounds on the scalp, varying in size from 1/2 inch to 1 1/2 inch in length, nearly all of them down to the bone; the bone was exposed in nearly all the wounds—the scalp wounds individually would not have been dangerous, but collectively they were—there was an incised wound in the throat, between three and four inches in length; there was one wound and just a scratch at one end of it, as if the knife had slipped—none of the large arteries were separated—that wound did not go on well—she was about twenty-nine years of age—any blunt instrument might. have produced the wounds on the head, a shoemaker's hammer or any such instrument, and any knife would have produced the cut.
Cross-examined. I have been in the medical profession about five years—I have not considered the question of insanity, I have not had an opportunity of studying it.
By THE COURT. The scalp wounds were lacerated wounds, from which erysipelas is more apt to arise than from incised wounds; it came on about five days after her admission—there was then, no hope.
FANNY DEELEY . I am a widow, and live at 7, Edward Street, Dorset Square—the deceased, Emma Bellamy, was my sister—she was about twenty-nine years of age—I saw her at the hospital—she was a married woman, and would have been married two years next January—she was separated from her husband; they were living apart—on 17th October she was living at 16, Salisbury Street, at Mrs. Abbott's—she had been living apart from her husband about twelve months—she had been in a situation after she left her husband, getting her own living, as far as I knew—I had seen her about three weeks before 17th October—I do not know the prisoner—I never saw him till I saw him in Court.
CAROLINE ABBOTT . I live at 16, Salisbury Street—that is about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour's walk from Great James Street—the deceased Emma Bellamy lodged with me about three or four weeks before she picked up with the prisoner, and she had known him five weeks before this matter occurred—she had lodged with me about a fortnight before that; I think she was with me about seven weeks altogether—I only knew the prisoner through her—I used to see him—he was in the habit of coming to my house—he would come there to meet her, and they would go out together—I knew that she was a married woman—she and the prisoner were upon very affectionate terms, what I have ever seen—I believe he was paying court to her—she has spoken to me about him, and I have spoken to him,
but not till the last day—I spoke to him about his intentions towards her, that was, if be intended to make a home for her—that was on the Saturday as the rash act was committed, on that same morning—he came to my house at 9 o'clock that morning, he came into the room where I live, and remained there till 11 o'clock—the deceased was there—they had no drink—she dressed to go out at 11 o'clock, and I said "If you will give me a glass of beer I will come out with you," and the prisoner told me to put on my bonnet and shawl, and I went out with them—we went to the Nightingale public-house, at the corner of the Edgware Road, at the corner of the Grove, and the prisoner called for a pot of stout and mild, and 2d. worth of bread and cheese—we had. the drink between us—one glass was upset, so there only remained one glass each—he then went out to have his boots blacked, and in the meantime she told me to ask his intentions towards her—when he came back she went out to buy a comb for her hair, and in the meantime I asked him what he intended doing—he said he intended to go about and take a place, and I understood that he intended to take a place for them to live together—he said he meant to take a house for her, I supposed to live together—I understood it as such—nothing more passed—I should think that would bring it on to 12 o'clock in the day, when left them together, and they went for a walk—I saw nothing more of her until I saw her in the hospital—when he was at my house that morning I was in the room the whole of the time—we were all talking together, about nothing at all in particular, chatting together.
Cross-examined. I was present when the prisoner made the acquaintance of the deceased for the first time; it was at the same public-house, the Nightingale—I had known the deceased nearly two years—she and I went into the Nightingale to have a glass of ale; the prisoner was sitting there, and he called her aside—I don't think he had ever spoken to her before; I believe that was the first acquaintance, it was about 8 o'clock in the evening; that was about five weeks before this occurrence—during all that time she was lodging with me—after that night he used to come to see her of an evening when he had done his work, not every evening, because she generally met him, as she told me, at the Nightingale—I think there were about two nights in that time that they did not meet—I think for a week he visited her at my place every evening, but I am not sure, I can't say—I occupied the kitchen and she slept with me; she had no sitting room of her own, we had the one room between us—on one occasion I left them alone in the kitchen and went away for some time, I can't say how long that was after they had made the acquaintance, it may be three or four weeks—I left them for about an hour and a quarter; that was for her to explain to him how she was situated, I think it might be a week or ten days before 17th October—I was examined before the Coroner—I said that I told the deceased to tell the prisoner that she was a married woman; I wished her to tell him and I went out purposely; I told her not to lay herself open to the law by marrying a man and she a married woman—I did not learn from her that the prisoner knew she was married, it was the inference I drew, supposing she had told him; I begged her to tell him—I thought he was honourable towards her, and I told her not to deceive him, but to tell him how she was situated—she slept from home one night; I don't know whether that was a week or more before the 17th—I remember on one occasion when the deceased was very poorly and in bed her sending for the prisoner: I went for him; I did not bring him back, he followed after; it
was in the evening—she was in bed when he came; he had not been there before when she was in bed, that was the first occasion—he did not find us both in bed when he came on Saturday, the 17th, he came at 9 o'clock in morning—I was up, I had my fire alight; the deceased was in bed—they were out together every evening till perhaps 11 or 12 o'clock; it might be once or twice as late as 1 o'clock, but not more; I have not been with them—I was with them one evening till nearly 12 o'clock, that was on the Friday before this Saturday—I never went to any place of amusement with them, except to the public-house—I did not go to the Nightingale with them on the Friday night, we went to a public-house—I had a glass of ale with them and they had gin-and-water—I had not been out with them the. whole evening; they came home about 11 o'clock, I stood at the door, they said I looked very miserable, and so I was—the prisoner asked me down to the public-house and I had a glass of ale with them; that was the only time—he did not have breakfast at my place on the Saturday morning, we had breakfast ourselves, he sat there while we had it—some cards were produced and we were telling fortunes with them, it was all nonsense—he was on affection at and friendly terms with the deceased all the time; there was nothing in his manner towards her but affection—I cut the cards first and told his fortune, and then the deceased did it; it was all over in two or three minutes, it was only nonsense—I was with them at the Nightingale till twelve o'clock, they then went up the Grove together and I returned home—the prisoner was quite sober at the time I left him; he said in the morning that he did not feel well and that was why he did not go to work—I saw the deceased at the hospital and was with her from 4.30 on the Saturday evening till 7 o'clock on Monday morning—I had a conversation with her at the hospital—she seemed quite right At times, only one time she took me for the prisoner when she was delirious.
Re-examined. She was not doing anything while she was with me, she had a little money sent from her friends from Oxford—she was a steady, sober woman; I never saw anything wrong by her.
By THE COURT. When I asked the prisoner at the public-house what his intentions were he did not say anything about marrying her, it was about living together, to take a house and to take her with him—he did not make any complaint against her, he spoke affectionately and kindly of her—I said I hoped they would let me know where they were going to live, that I might come and see them—he said "Yes, Mrs. Abbott, I shall.
FRANCIS HASTED (Police Sergeant D 19). I was Acting Inspector in charge at the police-station—I was not there when the prisoner was brought in—I was there afterwards from 3 to 6 o'clock p.m.—the prisoner was there during that time—I had very little talk with him, he merely asked for some refreshment; tea and bread and butter—about 6 o'clock he was removed to the cell—during those three hours I did not notice anything in his manner and demeanour, he appeared to be quite rational so far as I saw.
JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON . I am surgeon to Her Majesty's Goal of New-gate—I am now in my twentieth official year—the prisoner came to Newgate on 27th October—I am not quite sure whether I saw him that day or the next, I think it was the day of his admission, and I have seen him daily since, up to the present time—I have conversed with him—I knew the reason of the trial being postponed from the last Session, and I have paid special attention to him—during the whole of the time he has been in New-gate, he seemed to be quite sane;—there was nothing in his manner or
demeanour to lead me to believe that he was otherwise than a perfectly sane man—I have had very large experience in cases of insanity since I have been connected with the goal of Newgate.
Cross-examined, The opinion I express relates to what I have observed of the prisoner since he has been in Newgate—I believe he was a week in the House of Detention before he came here. I have gone into the question of insanity more than most men—I do not of course refer to those gentlemen whose particular province it is—I have no doubt that on some few occasions I have found myself in conflict with other members of the profession in the view I have formed—I have no experience of such a form of insanity as impulsive insanity unpreceded by symptoms of insanity or followed by evidences of insanity—I should expect to find prior indications of some sort of insanity, or subsequent ones, one or the other—I think in most cases there are delusions, although they are not always manifested, for instance, in the case of Melancholia, you cannot draw them out, they are taciturn, they will not speak, hence you cannot tell what they are probably impelled by—I should give full value to hereditary taint in judging of insanity—it would be a circumstance of importance that a man's brother, or father, or cousin, had indications of insanity—it is a significant circumstance that an act is committed without motive, and that there is no effort to escape after its commission, and that there is a voluntary surrender to justice—the difficulty as far as my experience goes, and I believe it will be confirmed by every man' who has had any great acquaintance with insanity, is that the forms of it are most intricate, and I think it is pretty much a matter of opinion—there are some cases of course, in which you can have no moral doubt whatever, cases of Melancholia for example—there are maniacs who are profound melancholia—many persons have come to this bar who I have deposed to as being insane; but there is great difficulty sometimes in detecting insanity, even by the most skilled—I have no experience of insanity in the father being transmitted to the son, and from the mother to the daughter—the same type of insanity is apt to be transmitted—a melancholy and desponding condition is worthy of consideration in a matter of this sort.—I have not observed that the prisoner has been wakeful at night since he has been in Newgate, because I have not seen him at night—he told me that he had, and I instituted inquiries about that and he did not appear to be quite confirmed; I think it came to nothing—I said to him—"I think you sleep more than you think, because your symptoms do not show it."—insanity is frequently attended by epilepsy, that is to say, there is very often insanity associated with epilepsy, but it passes off with the seizure more frequently than not—an insane father and an epileptic mother might most assuredly lead to some dangerous results in the offspring—I should consider they would be very susceptible.
Re-examined. I have several times spoken to the prisoner upon the subject of this inquiry—I examined him with a view to test the state of his mind—from beginning to end I found no trace whatever of insanity—I was present when Dr. Tuke, Dr. Maudsley, and Dr. Rogers examined him on Friday last—they came on behalf of the prisoner.
By MR. STRAIGHT. With regard to the dilated state of his pupils, the room in which he was examined by those gentlemen was a gloomy room, admitting of no direct light except thrown on the floor; I think that would explain the dilated pupil—I have examined him myself, and placed him under different circumstances, and I found his pupil act readily—I think
there was no unusual dilitation of the pupil, not more than in many persons—they are not always alike as to size—his pulse was very often accelerated—he is rather an excitable man—I found his pulse frequently from seventy to eighty; it is rather quick than not as a rule.
By THE COURT. He has always talked quite rationally—whatever state he might have been in at the time this act was committed, as to which I can give no opinion, since 27th October he has spoken and acted quite as a rational man.
CHARLES BEADING . I am an infirmary warder at the House of Detention the prisoner was confined there from 19th October until the morning of the 27th—I saw him every day—I had very little conversation with him—I visited him daily to see if he required to see the doctor for anything; that is part of my duty—I considered him to be a very reserved man, nothing further—there was nothing to lead me to believe that he was otherwise than a man of sound mind.
MR. JUSTICE QUAIN inquired if the statement made by the deceased to the Magistrate teas in Court. MR. POLAND replied thai it was, and the clerk who took it down, was present, hut he felt a doubt as to its admissibility, although he was ready to put it in if it was desired. MR. JUSTICE QUAIN considered it was scarcely receivable as a dying declaration, there being no evidence that the deceased was aware of her state at the time; and the only oilier ground on which it could be admitted was, as a statement accompanying an act, in the same way as a first complaint in a case of rape; this, however, went a little beyond that, as it was a statement made to a Magistrate, it was very desirable to have it read if it could possibly be done, but he had great difficulty in admitting it except at the express desire of the prisoner's counsel. After some discussion, MR. STRAIGHT requesting that it might be put in, MR. POLAND called.
JOHN RONALDSON LYELL . I am the second clerk at the Marylebone Police Court—on the afternoon of 17th October I was sent for to Mr. Oliver's, and went there with Mr. Mansfield, the Magistrate—I found the deceased lying on the floor in the passage, and Dr. Brisbane attending to her—the Magistrate took her statement—I wrote it down at the time from her lips—questions were put to her, I think, by myself—she had not much difficulty in answering—I was a very few minutes in taking the statement, about ten minutes, I think—we ascertained afterwards that the prisoner was not there—we thought at first that he was—I don't think the statement was read over to her—this is what she said. (Read: Emma Bellamy says "I live at 16, Salisbury Street. About 3.15 this afternoon the man, Cranwell, asked me to tea. He said you look tired, lie down, I will make some tea. I laid down. He said 'Are you cold?' I said 'No.' He went round to the bed side. He took a large hammer, and struck me on the head five times. He locked the door. I asked him to spare my life. He said 'No, you have deceived me.' I said' No.' He then held me by the throat, took. a knife, and cut my throat. The man's name is James Cranwell I have walked with him five weeks."
WILLIAM OLIVER (re-examined by THE COURT). The first time I saw the prisoner was when he came downstairs after I had got the woman in my arms, and laid her on the floor in the passage, he followed her down shortly after—he stood about half a minute, and I said it was a bad job, and he said "She deceived me," and then he went up again—that was not the time he went up with the policeman after him; he had come down and gone up again before the policeman came—he came down a second time, and then
went for the doctor—I had a full opportunity of observing him—he looked very excited—he said nothing until I addressed him, but when I or the neighbour proposed sending for a doctor, he at once volunteered to go, and went.
The, following Witnesses were called for the Defence.
WILLIAM CRANWELL . I live in Jubilee Street, Mile End—the prisoner is my brother—he is fifty-two years of age on the 18th of this month—I am six years older—my father's name was George and my mother's Martha—I had also an uncle of the name of William and a first cousin of the name of George Felix; also a brother named Joseph—my mother died in an epileptic fit—I am not myself aware that my brother Joseph, was subject to fits—I have had one fit myself, about seven years back—my uncle William died in Bethlehem—I am personally acquainted with that fact—before that he had been confined in Guy's Hospital under restraint, in a straight waistcoat and fastened down to the bedstead—he was found wandering about in a state of nudity in the back yard of my father's house before he went to the hospital—at the time of the prisoner's wife's death he had been married something like thirty-one years; he had two children, a boy and a girl—they died under very distressing circumstances—he went to the girl's funeral and came back and found the boy in a dying condition—during all their married life I consider he was most kind and affectionate and good to his wife—at the time of the children's death he was very much distressed and desponding and very much unsettled as to business for a long time afterwards—for about the last six years he had been in the employment of Mr. Bosher, of Duke Street, Manchester Square—some years before he showed a peculiarity of conduct, in this way, by breaking up his home and going into the country and returning again and taking an empty house for his wife and child—I consider that he did that without any apparent cause—on another occasion he took two rooms with nothing to put in them, that was after the death of his children—he gave no reason for that—I did not question him upon the point, only I thought it was a rum thing for a man to do—he has left his employ and gone about making models of new houses and cutting them out in wood—he has neglected his work to do that—the last two years of my father's life he was very ill with a malignant inflammation of the liver—he had been in Guy's Hospital, and for the last six weeks he was at home—he was very much distressed and a week or two before his death my mother told me that she found a penknife concealed between the bed and mattress—I don't know any other peculiarity that he exhibited—he died of inflamation of the liver—I don't know of his going out into the streets in his night shirt—I was a child at that time—I have heard my mother speak of it.
Cross-examined. My father died about twenty-seven years back—he died at home—the disease was a very painful one—he was fifty-seven when he died—he had been in the hospital for about nine days and came home totally incurable—he suffered very great pain—before he became ill he was attending to his business, but he had been gradually getting bad for two years—he was a bootmaker—my uncle William died about thirty-two years back, I should think—I remember him—I did not see him in Bethlehem—I saw him taken away from my father's house to the asylum—I worked with him before that—he was a tailor by trade, and I am a tailor—he was in Bethlehem about nine days, I think, before he died—I don't remember that he used to drink; I have no recollection that he was a drinking man—I have
another brother alive, that is George—he has recently come from America, he is a bootmaker by trade—he is here—he is the youngest of the family—my mother died about eighteen years back—she died at home—she had been attended by a doctor before she died—she died suddenly, in a fit—I don't know whether it was apoplexy or epilepsy—I could not say—I did not hear that it was heart disease—I heard that it was a fit—I only know about George Felix from what I heard—I never saw him—the prisoner was a working shoemaker—he was considered to be a very good workman—before he worked for Mr. Bosher he used to go into the country to work at different places where work could best be got I suppose—he had a taste for drawing and cutting out cottages to resemble those that had. been newly built in the neighbourhood—I considered he neglected his business for that—I suppose it was his amusement—I can't give you the dates when the children died—I think the girl was eight and a half years old and the boy four and a half—I suppose it must be twenty-years ago; at the time one was buried the other was ill, and died—the last time I saw him before the 17th October was on the Sunday before the explosion in the Regent's Park—I used to see him occasionally—we lived a long distance apart and could not see each other frequently—I have seen the deceased woman with him—I never heard from him that he was going to marry her, only from idle gossip, that was all I heard, and I could not tell you who I heard that from—I had heard such a floating idea—I did not know who she was.
Re-examined. I have an idea that he left good work on the occasions when he went into the country.
GEORGE CRANWELL . I live at Croydon—I am the prisoner's youngest brother—I went to America in 1869, and have just returned—the prisoner lived in my place in the Waterloo Road before I went away—he came home one night about 10 o'clock—he was sleeping in the next room to me—I believe he was sober; he did not appear to me as if he had been drinking—I heard a knocking at the wall a several times in the night—I went in to see what was the matter, and I saw him sitting up in bed, very excited; he said he thought he had seen somebody in the room, and that he had struck at him—I looked at his knuckles, and all the skin was taken off where he thought he had been striking the person; but instead of hitting anybody, he had been hitting the brick wall—the skin was off and his knuckles were bleeding—he seemed very excited—I stopped with him about an hour, and talked to him—he seemed to be very strange on that occasion—he looked very wild about the eyes, and seemed excited—my mother died between eighteen and nineteen years ago—I have heard talk about my father being violent, but I was young at the time—I remember my uncle William—he was at home at our place, and was taken to a madhouse, and died there—I know that of my own knowledge.
Cross-examined. I was between eight and nine then, as far as I recollect—I don't remember any of the circumstances—I think it was between seven and eight years ago that this took place about the prisoner knocking his knuckles against the wall—I had seen him come home that night—I opened the door to let him in between 10 and 11 o'clock—he used to leave off work between 7 and 8 o'clock, and go for a walk—I did not know where he had been—as far as I could see he was quite sober.
MARIA CRANWELL . I am the widow of Joseph Cranwell, a younger brother of the prisoner's—towards the latter period of his life he used to suffer with severe headaches and heart disease—he died on the 2nd July,
the year before Prince Albert—he was on the sofa, and I was sitting beside him at the time—he sprung from the sofa and said "I can't live, I will kill you, I can't leave you;" but his arms failed him, and he had no strength in them—he tried to grasp my throat—his eyes were very wild at the time and vacant, and were for some time before that—we had been on the most affectionate terms; he was a most affectionate fellow—I remember the death of the prisoner's wife—I saw him twice after that, and I thought he was very wild—I thought his eyes looked very vacant—he was very much changed to what I expected—I thought the attendance he had given his wife had tried him—he had been good and attentive to her.
Cross-examined. He had not made the acquaintance of Mrs. Bellamy when I saw him on those two occasions—I knew nothing of that—my husband was a bootmaker—he was attending to his trade until he was taken ill—he was under a doctor for some little time before he died—he used to run in and out to Dr. Hart.
THOMAS FULCHER . I am now an estate agent and collector of rates and taxes at King's Lynn—I was formerly in the borough police there—I knew a young man named George Cranwell Felix well—in June, 1856, I arrested him as a wandering lunatic, and under the direction of the Magistrate he was sent to the Hoxton Lunatic Asylum in London—he was afterwards discharged, and came back to Lynn, and continued to live there for two or three years—he remained a melancholy and desponding man to all appearance, and led a most recluse life—I frequently saw him, and that was the fact.
Cross-examined. He was a butcher by trade—he drank a good deal—he was forty-four years of age—I had known him about twenty years—I had not often seen him drunk, but he used to drink a good deal—he was a few months in the asylum—he did not go on with his business when he came back; he was not able—his mother carried on the business—he died at Lynn at his mother's house.
Re-examined. I know that he attempted to cut his throat.
GEORGE CRANWELL (re-called). By THE JURY. At the time the prisoner was with me and struck his knuckles against the wall, I believe his wife was in service—she was not there with him—she might be in service, and yet they might be on affectionate terms—I know she was in service as a cook somewhere at the West End—he was not doing very well at that time, and in order to help she went out to service.
DR. THOMAS HARRINGTON TUKE . I reside at 37, Albemarle Street—I have an establishment at Manor House, Chiswick, where I receive patients, and I am a consulting physician to another large asylum—I am an M. D. and Fellow of the College of Physicians of London and Edinburgh—I have been in Court during the hearing of this case—I have heard the whole of the evidence and have listened to it with attention—last Friday I had an interview with the prisoner—there is a form of mental disorder known by the name of impulsive insanity—it is also called homicidal mania and sudden impulse—I made a careful examination of the prisoner's physical condition—I found him to be of a highly nervous temperament with a pulse persistently at one hundred, which is a high rate, and very highly dilated pupils—it was mentioned at the (time that the light in the room was insufficient and I took him to the window and with another physician present we found that the dilation of the pupils still continued and I see it is even so now—his state now is one liable at any moment I should fancy to an attack of mental alienation or a fit of some kind or another.
Q. From your experience are you of opinion that a man may commit an act of violence without any indication of insanity beforehand or afterwards and yet be insane at the time he commits it? A. I never saw such a case, but it is in my experience and reading and knowledge that such cases have been—I agree with Dr. Gibson that almost all the cases I have seen have shown some indications of insanity beforehand or afterwards—I should take the instance of the hammering at the wall such as has been described as one index, and also the tendency to lowness and depression—that is an element worthy of consideration—then I should take as a very important one indeed in this or in any case a very strong hereditary tendency to insanity, and epilepsy and insanity are most frequent concomitants of homicidal mania—epileptic mania is a most dangerous malady in reference to the lives of others and themselves, and it is frequently hereditary the motiveless nature of an act is an important consideration also, also the fact of no effort being made to escape, and the showing of hands covered with blood—if I may also given the account which the prisoner gave me of the deed, it was upon that I form my opinion to some extent—I think the whole mass of circumstances taken together indisputably prove that at the time the prisoner committed the act he was of unsound mind—I especially lay stress upon the epileptic character of his appearance at the time the deed was committed, the staring eyes, the fixed expression and afterwards a sudden recovery—those are exactly the characteristics of an epileptic sudden mania; also being comparatively cool and collected within a short time of the occurrence would be in favour of the view I am now putting forward—it is quite consistent with his having been under the influence of this impulsive attack at the time he committed the deed—I also think that the dissipation, I don't mean drunkenness, but the tippling and general excitement to which he had been exposed for four or five weeks before, is another element which I would lay stress upon, and his peculiar nervous organisation rendering him liable to such an attack—it is also a very material circumstance that he was to all appearance on affectionate terms with this woman down to the time of her death; the general former history of the prisoner, his gentle manner and demeanour and the whole history of his former life as an affectionate man suddenly terminating in this horrid crime seems to me to be another element in the case.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner last Friday in company with Mr. Gibson, Dr. Rogers, and Dr. Maudsley—Dr. Maudsley is a well known and accomplished physician, and has written works upon mental disease—I was with the prisoner rather more than an hour—that is the only time I have seen him except to-day in Court—Dr. Maudsley is not here as a witness—I should not like to say that the prisoner is of perfectly sound mind now; I can find no indication whatever that he is not, not the smallest—I should say that he knew he was going to be tried for murder, and that he knows now that he is being tried for murder—before forming an opinion as to hereditary taint, it would of course be so much the better to know the circumstances of the insanity of the different members of the family—if a man became mad from drink, it might very possibly be from an hereditary taint—I do not believe drink would produce insanity unless there was a strong predisposition to it in the individual; it would produce delirium tremens—I would except that—there is insanity known as delirium tremens produced by drink—it is unquestionably important to know the kind of insanity the members of a family suffer from before forming any real estimate of the
value of hereditary taint—I know nothing of the cousin's case except what the officer from Lynn spoke of in the witness box, or of the uncle's case, except what I have heard to-day, and what I have read in the depositions—I came to the conclusion that the mother's fit was epileptic, and I have my reason for it, but I am stopped from stating it; I can only state, upon my oath, that I believe she died from epilepsy—that is my impression—I am not allowed to say why; it was in consequence of my conversation with the prisoner, and that I am told I cannot state—I think the evidence of George Cranwell about the prisoner knocking his knuckles against the wall, eight years ago, of very grave importance indeed—I place reliance upon that as an element.
By THE COURT. It is stated in' a book of authority that with regard to impulsive insanity or irresistible impulse, the doctors who present that theory should be able to form a distinct conception between impulses that are irresistible and impulses that are unresisted—I think the only way in which such a line can be drawn is to take the physical concomitants, and if I find that the man who commits the crime is at the time in a state of physical suffering, with staring eye-balls, in a state of great excitement, and has at the same sine a tendency to epilepsy, which in' this case, from the brother's evidence, I believe, I should put that down probably, not certainly, as an irresistible impulse—if I should not find the physical symptoms I should distinguish the case; here there were no physical symptoms till after the crime was committed, but they continued—it is quite possible that he would be in a state of excitement, being caught in such an act as this.
DR. JOSEPH ROGERS . I reside at 33, Dean Street, Soho—I have had charge of the Infirmary of the Westminster House, in Poland Street, for two years and a half, and was previously for twelve years medical officer of the Strand Union—I have a very large number of insane persons coming under my care, passing through my hands into the various asylums; I have had 160 lunatics pass through my hands in the last two and a half years—I have been in Court during this trial and heard the evidence on the part of the prosecution and defence—I have heard Dr. Tuke's opinions, and entirely coincide with them, more especially as to the hereditary character of insanity and its taking a specific form—hereditary insanity is a well-established fact—I don't know that it is transmitted from the father to the son, it sometimes escapes the son—I saw the prisoner last Friday—so far as his physical condition is concerned I agree in the opinion expressed by Dr. Tuke—as far as regards that one particular feature in the case I formed my opinion entirely from the condition in which Mrs. Oliver discovered him, coupled with an unnatural condition of pulse for a man of fifty-two years of age—a person of that physique is less capable of resisting his emotions—his pulse never altered while we were with him, and he was very placid and quiet the whole time.
By THE COURT. It is not the result of my experience to expect previous fits of epilepsy before that spoken to, of knocking his knuckles against the wall—there comes a time when it reaches a climax; it does not necessarily follow that it should come on at an early period of life, it would depend very much upon the habits of the man in the preceding months—he does not appear to have been following his work in the same manner as formerly and he had given way to an unnatural description of despondency at the death of his wife, I mean despondency that caused him to neglect his work and not to lead the regular life that he previously did, that would lead on in a man
predisposed to insanity to the homocidal outbreak; I am talking of epileptic insanity—I have had cases come under my observation that have been sent to me by the police which were unquestionably insane and that had been insane a few days, or at least have manifested such eccentricity or peculiarity of conduct that I have detained them upon the original certificate till I have satisfied my mind they were fit to be discharged—I sometimes think that we physicians are not sufficiently observant of the proofs of insanity before hand—I think if we looked a little more closely into a man's antecedents we should observe things that would indicate insanity and take steps to prevent it.
DR. WILLIAM REES WILLIAMS . I am a M. R. C. S. and M. D.—I am resident physician and superintendent of Bethlehem Hospital—I have a record here of the name of William Cranwell in our books—he was admitted on 9th August, 1839, and died on 25th August, 1839—I have no entry to show that he came from Guy's Hospital.
GUILTY — DEATH .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, December 16th, 1874
Before Mr. Baron Amphlett.
MESSRS. BEESLEY and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. W. SLEIGH the Defence.
EMMA CHERRY . I am the prisoner's wife—we shall have been married thirteen years on Christmas Day—we have no children—we lived at 27, Bath Street—on 11th. November I took a screw of sugar out of a bason in a cupboard in our room—it was about five or six teaspoonsful—I made a screw of it in paper like you do tea—I took it with me to my work—I had had my breakfast 8.15, and used what was in the sugar bason before I took the screw ont—my husband went away at 6 o'clock—I felt sick after breakfast, and complained of it—I began to feel sick about 8.45, and I felt it on and off all the morning—when I woke up that morning I saw the prisoner tying up his food near the cupboard door—the food was kept in that cupboard—he did not take sugar to his work that morning, he had taken it on Monday morning—I had bought the sugar on the Saturday night previous at Mr. Simcoe's, the grocer's—I bought one pound and took it home with me—my husband put it into the bason on Monday morning—he took about three quarters of a pound with him to his work, and turned the rest into the glass sugar bason, where there was about a quarter of a pound of the old sugar—it was my practice to buy sugar on Saturdays, and he took his sugar to his work on Monday morning, and I took mine to my work on Wednesday—I felt the effects of it on Wednesday morning at breakfast, and between 1 and 2 o'clock I took some more in coffee—I work at a book folder's with a lot of women, and two young girls, Lousia Jones and Rose Johnson had some of my coffee—I put some sugar in it from the screw of paper which 1 brought from home—none of the other girls had any of my sugar, they had their own—I put about a teaspoonful of the sugar into the coffee, and it had a coppery, burning taste, very nauseous—I let it remain till it got cold, because I could not drink it, and about ten minutes afterwards I threw it away, and poured out some more—I thought it was
chicory in the coffee—I put about a teaspoonful of sugar into that and could not drink it—it was out of the same coffee pot—I merely tasted it and found it worse—I then said that it must be in the sugar, and I went to the sink and vomited—the other girls had some of the coffee and did not suffer at all—one of them tasted it, and said "Good gracious, it is poisoned"—I asked them to give me some salt and water, which I drank—it purged me and relieved me—I went with Mrs. Wood to a chemist in Farringdon Street—we took the screw of sugar with us and the spoon—he would not have anything to do with it, and we went back to the shop and then to St. Bartholomew's Hospital with the same screw of sugar—the doctor looked at it, and asked me if I had any more at home, and he told me to go home and secure what was in the bason, and if I saw anything in it to take it to Bagnigge Wells Police Station—before I left the hospital I had an emetic and some castor oil, which thoroughly cleansed me—I had the nasty taste for three days, and my mouth went ragged inside, all like skinned—I had had some of the same sugar for breakfast on the Tuesday morning, and felt no effects from it—the prisoner did not breakfast with me all the week—after breakfast on Tuesday I put it in the same cupboard, and did not taste it again till Wednesday—that cupboard was not locked usually, nobody occupies the room but ourselves—we only occupy one room, and we each have a key—before I went out on the Tuesday morning I found that my husband had not taken his key with him, but I locked the door as usual—it was the practice for whoever went out to lock the door—I hung the key up in the room—no one could get in after I left without breaking the door or having a false key—I met the prisoner at the corner of Bath Street at 9.45 on Tuesday night, and he said that he could not get in; he was very angry—I had not been in since the morning—I let him in with my key, and we both went in together—we had not been in many minutes when I went out to fetch the supper beer—I was out five or ten minutes, leaving only my husband in the room—he was there when I came back—we had our supper, and there was no quarrelling—we both went to bed comfortably, and next morning he wished me goodbye and kissed me before he went away—that was at about 5.55—I took the sugar basin to the police on Wednesday afternoon, after I left the hospital and before my husband came home—Mrs. Wood went with me; but before that I took it to the grocer where I bought it, then to the police, and then to Mr. Neighbour, the Inspector of Nuisances; but it was never out of my sight, nor was the screw or the spoon—I left the screw with Mr. Neighbour first, and afterwards the basin and spoon—I can hardly say whether he turned the screw into the basin—he will tell you best—I only saw him once—when my husband came home at a little after 10 o'clock, I asked him if he found anything the matter with his sugar; he said "No"—I told him that I had been poisoned; he looked astonished, and sat by the fire, and did not say any more—he asked me about it, and I told him that I had taken it to Mr. Neighbour and the grocer and the police—he said I had done quite right—I said "You had better fetch your sugar and see if there is anything in that; and he fetched it the next morning from his shop—he went there alone, and brought it back in the pound sugar bag I had got it in on the Saturday night—he had not turned it out—he stayed at home with me all Thursday morning, but nothing of any consequence occurred—I was very ill on the Thursday morning, but I went to work in the afternoon as I was better, though far from well—I put about five or six
teaspoonsful into the screw, and took about two out—we have been married thirteen years; we were not unhappy the first part, we were unhappy the last four or five years, but the last part of the time better—this improvement had been for some months—I left him two years ago last July for three weeks—that was because he used to go out of a night and leave me in the shop—we kept a chandler's shop for about four or five years, and it was unsuccesful—it was given up because I left him, and he could not carry it on without me—he sold it while I was away from him—since then I have been working at book folding—my husband used to stay out till 12 and 1 o'clock, but sometimes he would come home at 10 o'clock—I was with him when he was taken in custody on a Saturday, about twelve days afterwards—I was telling him that I was going to leave him, and asked him for part of the home—the detective then came in, and said "I apprehend you on a charge of attempting to poison your wife"—we had lived on good terms from the time I was taken bad till the time he was taken—I told him all that had occurred, and that the detectives had been to me at the workship, and I said "Tom, they have traced it to you"—they came once to the workshop, that was on the Tuesday following, and on the Thursday they came to my house—my husband saw that I was in an excited state, and he said "Sit down and calm yourself, it is false: they don't keep no poison in the shop but what is killed"—when I spoke on the Saturday about leaving him, he said "Take all the home, I am an outcast; you are going to turn against me"—I had not made up my mind to leave him till the Friday, and had not threatened to do so—we once had a quarrel about 17l.; but that is an old grievance, three years ago—on the Friday after he was taken I found this new razor behind a stack of books in the room—he had not been in the habit of shaving himself lately, but I daresay if I looked I could find an old razor now—I never saw him use either the old razor or this new one; he went somewhere in Bunhill Bow to get shaved.
Cross-examined. About three years ago he had 17l. in the bank in his own name—he took 10l. out first—I did not take any of it out, but I believe I had some portion of it—I have taken money several times from the business—I took 12l. before I left home, and my husband came after me and fetched me back—he was not on a sick bed when I left him, but he was ill—I did not give the money back to him, but I laid it out on him—he was on a sick bed, and the money was spent—I left him because he stayed out so late at night—while this business was going on he was sometimes working at a smith's business at night, and sometimes he was not—it did not keep him out till 10 o'clock—he works at a smith's business now—7 o'clock is his time, but he works overtime occasionally—I cannot tell you whether he works till 10 o'clock, his employers will tell you that better—he came home at 10, 11, and 12 o'clock as black as when he left off—my time for leaving off was sometimes 7 o'clock in summer and sometimes 8 o'clock—we were busy at this time—though he had left his key at home, and though I knew that 7 o'clock was his time to get home, I did not come home to let him in before 9.45, because I left my shop at 9 o'clock, and I had half an hour's walk, and I met a young girl and went with her to buy her a waterproof—I was not sure of my husband coming home, so I did not hurry myself—I pointed out to the Inspector of Police at Bagnigge Wells some white stuff on the top of the sugar bason, and also to Mr. Neighbour—I called their attention to it before they saw it, and the person with
me saw it—I had tea for breakfast, that was about 7.45, as near as I can tell, and about an hour after that I was on my road to business—I suppose it was between three quarters of an hour and an hour after taking the tea before I felt any sickness—I drank the whole cup of tea—I took the sugar out of the bason with a spoon and put the spoon in and stirred it up in the ordinary way—when I showed the sugar to the inspector it was scooped out, and this powder was laying on the top; it was like salt—it was on the outside of the sugar—as soon as I got to work I complained of being sick, and two or three times during the morning—after that I drank more than half a teaspoonful of coffee; I will not swear that, but I tasted it each time—I drank a drop first, and when I tasted it I put it down—none of the other women tasted the first cup—I said "Aint that coffee funny," and I put it down—none of my sugar was put in the other girl's cups—I did not say that I thought that cup was poisoned—I had some bacon for dinner, and I thought it might be that that made it taste funny—I then poured out a second cup, tasted that, and that was worse, and I said "Good gracious me, it must be in the sugar"—I did not say that it was poisoned, but one of them did while I was at the sink—I let some of that coffee go down my throat, and I felt the effects right down my inside—I drank nothing like a saucer full—several others were at the sink washing their things up—none of them are here, but the person who brought me the salt and water is here—I was very bad, indeed, at the sink—I asked for the salt and water, because one of them took up the coffee and said "Good God, it is poisoned"—I asked for the salt and water because I knew it was a very good emetic, and I have taken mustard and water for the bile—I could not get mustard, and I asked for salt—the prisoner's manner has always been kind, and he has never ill-used me—I told the Magistrate that he was an affectionate husband, and that I did not believe he could do such a cruel thing; that I could not believe he put the poison there—on the Wednesday morning I awoke and saw him by the cupboard door with his food in his hand; I was not awake when he got up—I told the Magistrate that I woke up and found him tying up has food—he had not been taken in custody when I asked him on the Saturday for part of the home—I told him I could not live with a suspected person—I should not have taken the home and left him, should have taken my share and left him.
Re-examined. I noticed the white powder in the sugar basin because after we had been to the hospital the doctor said "Have you any more at home? and I said "Yes"—nobody pointed it out to me—I found it myself—Mrs. Wood was with me—she did not draw my attention to it—I saw it myself—I put about a quarter of a teaspoonful of sugar into each cup of tea on Wednesday morning, and in the coffee I put a full teaspoon—I had one cup of tea, and then I put my sugar into the paper and tied up my bread and butter, and then I had another cup of tea—I took the 12l. from the shop when I left home—that was when I was in business with him—he was ill when I left him, but not in bed—he begged me to come back, and said that he would be a better man—I found him on a sick bed when I went back and that money was spent on him.
ELIZABETH WOOD . I am the wife of Henry Wood, of 6, Cornwal road, Lambeth—I am a book folder, and worked at the same shop as Mrs. Cherry, but I do not now—on 11th November, she came in at 9.15 or 9.20, and I sat nest to her—she repeated several times "I think I must have made my tea too strong for I have been violently sick all
the morning, and I have got such a burning sensation as if I had drank it too hot"—at dinner time Mrs. Cherry and I, and Louie Jones and Mrs. Johnson, were at the same table—I had beer, and the other three had coffee, which was all made in one jug, but each had her own sugar—some coffee was poured out for each—Mrs. Cherry drank some and said "What filthy coffee this is, I cannot conceive what is in it"—it was nearly cold, and she said "Taste my coffee"—I tasted another girl's and said "I cannot taste anything only it has got too much chichory in it"—I tasted Louie Jones's coffee, but not Mrs. Cherry's—Mrs. Cherry said she would have no more coffee, and we said "Why not have some more hot and throw that away?"—and she threw it away—I do not think anybody else tasted it—some more was poured out for the three, and they each sugared their own again—Mrs. Cherry tasted the second cup and jumped up from the dinner table and ran to the sink, saying "Good God, what can it be, it must be in the sugar?"—while she was at the sink I picked up the paper of sugar and the instant I tasted it my mouth became blistered—she vomited at the sink, and I took her some salt and water hot, she took it and became very ill afterwards—she was at the sink ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, and I said "Why don't you come to a doctor's?"—I noticed that the spoon was black as deep as it had been in the coffee—Rose Johnson wiped it in her apron and it became white again like silver—we looked at the sugar and saw something dirty-white like bird seed—you could pick it out in your hand—I took it out in my hand—it was like canary seed—Mrs. Cherry then said "I will go to a doctor"—she was crying—I took the spoon and the sugar and went with her to a druggist in Farringdon Street, who said he would have nothing to do with it—we then went back to work and from there to St. Bartholemew's hospital, and saw a doctor, who gave her a dose of castor oil, and she was sick again—I went home with her—she forced the door open, having left the key in the shop—she got the sugar basin out of the cupboard and there was a large portion of this powder on top of the sugar on one-side—I went with her to the police-station, and from there to the Town Hall, to Mr. Neighbour—I showed the packet and the basin to the police—I carried it and the spoon also—Mr. Neighbour took the packet from me and poured the contents into the basin, and I left the spoon with him also—I noticed the sugar in the basin in her room—there was a lot of powder on one side at the top, a large quantity together, and it was mixed with the sugar besides.
Cross-examined. Nobody could help seeing it, but whether I should have taken any if I went to the sugar basin would depend upon whether it was perfectly day light; we have to be at work very early and are in such a hurry that 1 might overlook it—under ordinary circumstances anybody must have seen it—it had not been scooped out, the sugar was perfectly straight in the basin—my recollection is perfectly distinct about that—"it was flat as far as I recollect and no appearance of scooping out—it was a glass basin—there was more of the powder on one side of the basin than the other, but no scooping as if there had been a spoon in it that I recollect—I saw Mrs. Cherry taste the coffee on both occasions; she did not appear to swallow it—she did swallow the first, and immediately put it it down, and said what a filthy taste it had, but the second she appeared merely to taste and put it down and said "Good God, it must be in the sugar"—she never used the word "poisoned," it was Louie Jones who tasted it and said that it must be poisoned.
Re-examined. When she said that it must be in the sugar I picked up the sugar and tasted it, and it was then that I first saw this—I saw the same thing afterwards in the basin, but at that time my suspicions had been aroused.
JAMES NEIGHBOUR . I am inspector of nuisances for the parish of St. Luke—on Wednesday, 11th November, Mrs. Wood and Mrs. Cherry came to the Vestry Hall—Mrs. Wood had a basin and spoon—I tasted what was in the basin, it had a metally taste, a coppery taste which made me feel very sick—I swallowed a very small portion, I put it on my tongue—Mrs. Wood said "If you look in the sugar you will see there is a white powder there," and I looked and saw it very plain—I did not observe it till my attention was drawn to it—the larger portion of the sugar was in a paper and I made up a grocer's bag and put the sugar out of the basin into it and likewise that out of the paper—I did not see any powder in the paper, but Mrs. Cherry represented that it came out of the same place—I marked the bag with Mrs. Cherry's name and locked it up and gave it next day to an analyst—another portion of sugar was brought to me nest day which was represented to be bought at Mr. Simcoe's; I went there and said that Mrs. Cherry had been to the Vestry Hall with a sample of sugar which she said she purchased there—he said "Yes, I have heard about it"—I said "If you have any more you had better give it to me"—he gave me some of it and I paid him 3d. for it—that was on Wednesday—on the Thursday morning the prisoner and his wife brought me another parcel in a piece of grocer's paper—I marked that "Mr. Cherry" and kept it till I gave them all to the analyst on Friday, Dr. Pavey, of Guy's—they had all remained in my possession under lock and key—Mr. Francis was present.
Cross-examined. I had very little conversation with the prisoner—they were on good terms apparently—he did not speak to her—he said "Oh Mr. Neighbour I have brought you some of the same sugar which was bought last night"—I said "You are her husband?"—he said "Yes"—said that I would get it analysed and he would know the result in a day or two—he appeared indifferent.
THOMAS SIMCOE . I am a grocer of 48, Bath Street—Mrs. Cherry is a customer of mine—on Saturday, 7th November, I was selling sugar at 3d. per pound, and on 11th November Mr. Neighbour bought one pound of it—that was out of the same hogshead as I was selling on the previous Saturday—I have had no complaints with regard to that or any other sugar.
WILLIAM FRANCIS PHILLIPS . I work for Mr. Horton, a smith and gas fitter and engineer, of 7, Finsbury Street—the prisoner worked in the same employment—I went there five years ago as a brass finisher and gas fitter—I use corrosive sublimate mixed with vinegar in my own shop—I mix it myself—I keep it in a cupboard in the shop which is not locked—the prisoner had the same access to that shop as others—I have seen him there, he has come up for anything he wanted or to work at the lathe sometimes, but he worked in the downstairs shop—I buy the corrosive sublimate in a crystal state, nobody has anything to do with it but me—I had had a supply in about five weeks before from Fox's—I kept a small piece in the cupboard, I never used it all—it was wrapped in the paper labelled "Poison" in which I received it—it is a deadly poison, there is nothing worse—I missed it a fortnight before the detective called and never saw it again—it was in small crystals, but not in powder—over an ounce was left I should think.
ERNEST FRANCIS . I am analyst to Dr. Pavey, of Guy's Hospital—on 13th November I received three parcels from Mr. Neighbour, one marked "Mr. Cherry," another "Mrs. Cherry,"' and another "Nov. 11"—I marked them 1, 2, and 3 in the order I have given—No. I contained 5 ozs. of pure sugar—No. 2 was extremely nasty, there were 3 1/4 grains of corrosive sublimate in 100 grains of the sugar in that sample, 3 1/4 per cent.—that preparation would be 1/2 an oz. in 1 lb. sugar—there would be at least 4 grains in a teaspoonful—3 grains has caused death, but there are cases where more than 4 grains have been taken and the patient has recovered—3 grains would be a very dangerous dose.
GEORGE EUGENE YARROW . I am a Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians—corrosive sublimate is a very deadly poison—3 grains is a very dangerous dose; cases are on record where 3 grains has produced death—it has a metallic, coppery taste, and if swallowed would produce a burning sensation in the stomach and chest and vomiting would follow—it excoriates if applied to the surface of anything—it amalgamates with a brass spoon and blackens it.
Cross-examined. The taste and the burning sensation are immediate and within an hour a sense of nausea would come on—a small portion would produce a metallic taste on the tongue and a burning sensation in the throat—the pain would not be immediate on her taking the 1/4 spoonful of tea—I do not know that one cup of coffee with a teaspoonful of the sugar in it would be so nasty as to prevent her taking another cup as it is very heavy and not entirely soluble—the first cup of coffee might be poured away and hot coffee being poured in would dissolve what was precipitated in the cup—it is so nauseous that a person would be prevented from tasting it a second time out of the same cup, but they might try a second cup.
WILLIAM MILLER (Detective Officer G). On 21st November I went with Sergeant Kenwood to 27, Bath Street, and found the prisoner and his wife by the fire—I told him I was a detective, and came to take him in custody on suspicion of putting poison into the sugar—he said "You will have to prove that"—I told him I had been making inquiries respecting it, and found he had free access to such kind of poison where he was at work—he said "No"—I said "You have, by going up a ladder in the other workshop"—I had cautioned him—he said "Yes, you are quite right"—I told him he would have to go to the station—he said "When?" I said "Now"—his wife got up and said "For God's sake, Tom, tell me whether you are guilty or not"—he said "No, I am quite innocent of it"—I took him to the station.
WILLIAM PEELE (Police Inspector P). The prisoner was brought to Old Street station, and I told him the statement of his wife—he said "It is quite correct, but I am innocent"—he lived about 400 yards from the station, but he made no report of this occurrence.
Cross-examined. The conversation at the station was on 11th November—I had the case under consideration at that time—the prisoner, did not make any report, but I was fully acquainted with the poison being in the sugar—I had to subpaena the wife and other witnessses before the Magistrate.
By THE COURT. He was before the Magistrate on the 23rd; he was apprehended on the 21st—I told him that his wife did not charge him, but the police did—we told him the statement his wife had given to the
police, and charged him upon that, and summoned her—the statement was made about the 13th.
GEORGE EUGENE YARROW (re-examined). I have heard it stated that a teaspoonful of this sugar contained 4 grains of poison; therefore a quarter of a teaspoon would contain 1 grain, and I think a person might drink a cup of tea with 1 grain in it without tasting it—I speak in reference to its effects on the mouth.
Prisoner. I never bought the stuff, and I never stole the stuff, and never put it in the sugar; and if you will allow me a Bible, I will take an oath to it.
GUILTY .— Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE EUGENE YARROW . I am licentiate of the College of Physicians, and medical officer of St. Luke's workhouse—I have examined the prosecutor, and do not think he can give evidence upon which you could rely.
By THE COURT. He has been under my charge since the 22nd October—his memory is very much impaired by the injury; he scarcely knows the nature of passing events—an attack of paralysis came on on the 29th October—five days afterwards one side of his body was then paralysed—he was unconscious a day or two previous, and his memory has been defective ever since—on the 28th he was delirious, and on the 29th slightly so, and then we found that he was paralysed on one side—I was present on 26th October, when his evidence was taken before the Magistrate.
MR. FRITH. Q. Were you present when his deposition was taken when he was supposed to be dying? A. Yes; the prisoner was present and questioned him—she had no attorney—the prosecutor appeared quite conscious then, but very feeble.
THE COURT, having consulted Mr. Justice Quain, considered the prosecutor's statement when he believed himself to be dying was admissible. Read: "I am in a dying state; my wife caused these wounds. We were in a public house in Whitecross Street on Saturday night. I did nothing to. her; we had had some words. She was always a jealous sort of woman. I saw her draw, her knife from her pocket; she always carries one with her. I cannot swear what she said. She stabbed me three times, and once under the ear, the most dangerous place she could hit me. She is a violent woman, and always fighting. My wife always carries a shoemaker's knife about her; it was with a shoemaker's knife she did it. I cannot swear it was done with a shoemaker's knife.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. No one else could do it She knows she did it very well.
EUGENE MORGAN . I am a tailor, of 7, Long's Buildings, White Cross Street—on 34th October 1 went with the prisoner and prosecutor to their son's place in Chiswell Street—we had three half-quarterns of rum there, and then went to a public-house in White Cross Street and had some drink—the prisoner and her husband had some angry words in the public-house, but they were not quarrelling much—I said to the prisoner "Will you come up to McCarthy's house and have some beer," that is a private house in White Cross Street—we went up a court and I left them and went to tell
McCarthy that they were coming—I have often heard the prisoner say that she would do for him—I heard a cry and went down and saw the prosecutor at the bottom of Long's Buildings in the arms of several men bleeding—the prisoner was not there then.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner, I did not see you strike him coming out of White Cross Street, or see him strike you—I was about ten minutes at McCarthy's before I heard the noise—I did not see either of you in the meantime—you saw me next morning, but you did not ask me where your husband was—I did not say "He is stabbed, come and lay on the bed wit me."
MARY BULLEN . I live at 28, Long's Buildings—on 24th October I was standing at my door when the prisoner passed out of 28, Long's Buildings—the man jumped out at the same time and went across the court, and the prisoner put her hand out and would not let him—he fell down, somebody picked him up, and he went a little further to the top of the court—he could not go any further and fell down and a policeman picked him up—I did not see any blood on him, but I saw some on the ground.
MARY SMITH . I am the wife of Charles Smith, of 25, Long's Buildings—on Saturday night, 24th October, between 9 and 10 o'clock, I was putting my things on to go out with my husband—I heard some voices in the court and a conversation between two men and a woman—one man went upstairs and left a man and woman at the door—I heard the man's step going upstairs towards McCarthy's room—before I got to the door to go out I heard a noise like a grunt, as if somebody was choking—I opened my door and went out and Mr. Tagney, the prosecutor, was at the opposite door across the court, and the lady at the opposite door said "Get away from my door," and there was all the blood as he walked along through the court—he said "Take me to the hospital, I am stabbed"—I returned to my door and saw Mr. Eugene Morgan coming down the stairs from McCarthy's—he wanted to know what was the matter—I turned back to my room again—I did not wait to tell him—we went out into the court and it was crowded and we went back and I saw no more.
HUGH THOMPSON (Policeman G R 14). I took the prisoner in custody on the morning of the 25th—I told her I should take her on a charge of stabbing her husband on the night previous—she said "I did not do it" on the way to the station she said "Whether I done it or not I suppose I have to suffer for it; I have not got any knife."
ANN TAGNEY . I am the daughter of the prosecutor—I saw my mother with a knife twelve months ago, but not more recently than that—she has threatened to injure my father since then,; but not lately—when she was cross with him she has said "I will do for you yet;" that was when they were quarrelling.
GEORGE EUGENE YARROW . I am surgeon to the G Division of Police—I was called to the Old Street Police Station about 10 o'clock on the night of the 24th October and saw the prosecutor there—he was on a stretcher insensible—he had a wound under his right ear; a contusion about the size of a pigeon's egg—he had an incised wound on the lower lip about half an inch long, another one on the left cheek about the same length, and a third below the left eye—there were three cuts and this contusion under the right ear—I should say the cuts were inflicted by a knife.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT—Wednesday, December 16th, 1874.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN STEWART (Policeman H 225). At 1.30 on the morning of the 26th November, (that is after midnight), I was on duty in Boyd Street, Whitechapel, when the prisoner and a woman came along shouting—he was the worse for liquor—I requested him to be quiet as the people who had gone to bed wanted to sleep and not to be disturbed at that hour of the morning—the prisoner then struck me on the breast and my helmet fell off in a doorway—while I was stooping to pick it up he said "Give me a poker, I will have the b——y b——r out of this; it is my house"—I picked up my helmet and he struck me over the left side of the head with a file—he had not the file when I first saw him—this was inside the house, while I was picking up my helmet—the door was open and I went into the house—I fell against a table and overturned the table—he also hit me on the right hand which afterwards swelled—Constable 162 came up and I called him into the house, and took him to the station—I have not been able to do duty since—I have been under the care of Mr. Phillips, Burgeon.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You met me in the street coming home at 1.30—I did not know that you lived in Boyd Street—while asking you to go home you struck me in the chest—I was close along side of you and when you struck me the door flew open and my helmet fell in—I followed you in and you struck me—I did not in making a rush fall headlong against the table—I took this file from you (produced).
WILLIAM WHITE (Policeman H 162). I was in Boyd Street on the morning in question—I saw Stewart, the prisoner, and a woman in the street—Stewart asked the prisoner to go along quietly without making a noise and disturbing the inhabitants—I did not see his helmet fall off—he had it on when I first saw him—I saw it afterwards—the constable called to me to secure the man, and said "I am struck"—and I saw his head bleeding.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was a few yards off—I could not see you if you did strike the constable—I did not see the constable stoop in the street to look for the helmet—I did not see when you and your wife went indoors—the door was open—I thought before, the door was closed—the constable was standing before you in the house—you were standing very close behind I should say—I was not close enough to see you strike him in the street—his helmet fell into the house—I think the house was down steps—the constable did not fall down the steps against the table—I heard the table go over with all the crockery on it, but that was after you struck him—I heard you say "Out of this, I will have you out"—I heard you say when you struck the constable" You are in my house, what are you doing"—the door was open—I don't know who opened it.
GEORGE PHILLIPS . I am a surgeon of No. 2, Spital Square—I saw Stewart on the evening of the 26th November—I found a lacerated wound on the right hand side of the head, about 4 inches long, exposing the pericranium—the bone was exposed by sloughing—he is still under my care and I can not say how long he may be unable to do duty—I think such an instrument as that file would produce such a wound.
Cross-examined. I do not think a fall on a steel fender would produce such a wound—I have not found any blood on the file.
Prisoner read a statement to the effect that the police-constable came by the wound en his head in falling over the table of crockery.
Two former convictions for felony, in April, 1867, and 23rd January, 1873, respectively, were proved †— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT—Wednesday, December 16th, 1874, and
OLD COURT; Thursday, December 17th, 1874.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
97. JAMES WILLIAM OLIVER (25), Was indicted for that he having been adjudged bankrupt unlawfully and with intent to defraud did not discover to the trustee various sums of money to the amount of 250l. and divers goods. Other Counts—For concealing and removing his property, making false representations, and false entries in his books.
MESSERS BESLEY and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WELLOUGHBY the Defence.
CHARLES REMY L'ENFANT . I am a clerk in the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce the proceedings in the bankruptcy of James William Oliver, of 12, High Holborn—the date of the petition for adjudication is 17th April, 1874, and he was adjudged bankrupt on 8th May—on 2nd June Mr. Robert Bagg was appointed trustee—the proceedings include a statement of affairs filed by the bankrupt on the 2nd June—that shows unsecured creditors 674l., as sets 59l. 17s. 6d., which are made up of book debts 56l. 17s. 6d. and cash in hand 3l.—the bankrupt was examined on the 25th June, and there is an order for his prosecution dated 5th November—there is an order on the proceedings for him to file and cash goods, and deficiency account on the 1st July; that was adjourned until the 15th, and then again until the 29th, and then till the 11th November—I see a memorandum of his non-attendance on 11th November.
Cross-examined. I know that he was taken into custody on that day—there is an affidavit by the bankrupt on the 14th July, 1874, on the file and another of the 23rd—they refer to searching for the books and state that he was doing his best to get his books, and that he had furnished the best, accounts he could.
Re-examined. I think he was arrested on 11th November about an hour and a half or two hours after the appointment, which was fixed for 10.30—he was taken in Carey Street, I believe, at a public-house—I find no other account on the proceedings except the copy of the current account of the bank.
CHARLES LEGGATT BARBER . I am one of the shorthand writers appointed to the Court of Bankruptcy—I was present in Court on the 25th June when the prisoner was examined after being sworn—I took down in shorthand his examination and I afterwards made a transcript of the notes and that is on file as a part of the proceedings; it is correct—he was examined before Mr. Registrar Murray—Mr. Stokes appeared for the trustee and Mr. Long for the bankrupt. (The examination was put in and read).
MAURICE GOLDSTEIN . I live at 49, Grosvenor Road, Highbury New Park—Mr. Goldstein who had the lease of 12, High Holborn, is my brother—I remember the prisoner going to the business at 12, High Holborn on the 3rd December, 1873—I went with him as salesman and cashier—I had 10s. a
week and 2d. commission on every pound taken—the amount of the cash taken in the first week was 128l., the next 132l., the third week 139l., the fourth week 147l., the fifth week 87l., and the sixth about 75l., I am not sure about that for a pound or two, the seventh week 80l.—I was there during the first four days of the eighth week and about 50l. was taken in that time—I can't recollect from memory the payments made to me by the prisoner—I have it in my book, which I have here—he paid me the commission with my wages—my commission and wages in the first week was 1l. 11s. 4d.—I made the entries when I left; not at the time—from the time I went there till the time I left I received a little over 10l. for wages and commission—I left suddenly; he sent me away on the fourth day of the eighth week—I did not get any commission at all for those four days nor any wages—there was a book in which the daily takings were entered while I was there, it was in use every day on the desk—I wrote in the takings for goods—the prisoner very seldom wrote in it—all the time I was there the entries were properly made—before the banking account was opened on the 15th December the goods which were bought were paid for out of the takings in coin by the prisoner, and after the banking account existed he paid for the goods by cheque—on the Saturday night it went over the money takings during the week from the daily takings book or cash book and he paid me my commission from that—after the banking account existed monies were paid into the bank—all the takings were paid in until I left—I used to go to the bank.
Cross-examined. I mean that all the money minus the expenses was paid in—I entered the amount of the commission in my book when I had left—I have never said that I used to enter it every week—I will swear that; I did not say when I was examined before the Alderman "The prisoner paid me commission every Saturday night and I entered that in my book at the time"—the mistake was not on my part—I said the next day "I did not intend to say yesterday I entered the commission in my book weekly; I did not enter any of it till I left"—I remembered the amounts up to the time I entered them in my pocket book—I tore some leaves out of the book because I did not require them any more—the entries are "1l. 11s. 4d., that includes the wages" 1l. 12s., 1l. 13s. 2d., 1l. 4s. 6d., 1l. 4s. 6d., 1l. 2s. 6d., and 1l. 3s. 4d.—the figures on the top of each entry are the dates—I can't say whether this was a prosperous business when my brother had it, he never told me his private affairs—I don't know whether it was prosperous or not—he has never spoken to me on the subject at all—my brother became bankrupt—I don't know that he got rid of this business because it was a failing one, or that he got Oliver to take it off his hands because it was a failing business—my brother is here—I had not assisted in this business before Oliver entered it—I don't know what the takings were before Oliver took it—the first four weeks were four weeks in December when we are usually very busy and afterwards in January it drops again—people buy more things in December—I left the defendant's service because he told me to go—he did not say. that I was lazy and idle, he simply told me to go without giving me any reason—I asked him the reason and he said if I did not get out he would kick me out and I went—he made no complaint of my want of attention or laziness or anything of that sort—I don't know how Mr. Stokes came to find me out—during the time I was with the prisoner he was paying money to the different debtors and to persons he got things of—they had not to wait long for their money—I
was salesman as well as cashier—I don't know that some of the goods were sent to my brother's shop in Cheapside—I will swear that.
Re-examined. The figures at the top 6th, 13th, 20th, 27th, 3rd, 10th, and 17th are the dates—the last date on which I was paid commission was the 17th January, and I was turned out on the following Thursday, the 22nd—I made the. note on the Saturday—I was spoken to about being a witness at Lewes in an action by my brother against Oliver—I don't know what Assizes I was to go down to—I was spoken to about March, 1874—the leaves of my book were not torn out then—the memorandum was there as it is now—I don't know what my brother paid in the pound at his liquidation—the prisoner's shop was open six days a week.
WOOLF GOLDSTEIN . I have two places of business in Cheapside and 1 had this place at 12, High Holborn—I have been subpoenaed here by the defendant to-day—I have never had any of his goods from his place in High Holborn down to Cheapside—my liquidation was August, 1874—I paid 7s. 6d. in the pound—I sued the bankrupt by an action which was to be tried at Lewes Assizes—I think it was the 31st January I commenced proceedings against him—he dishonoured a bill on the 30th—I won't be certain as to the exact date—I remember my brother being sent away and the bills were given me as a payment for the good-will and fixtures of the place and the lease—he was to have had the lease when everything was paid and not before—I sold him about 200l. worth of goods—I left some goods in the shop for him—at the time of his stoppage he owed me about 280l—he paid me the first month's rent; the odd month—his rent was to commence from January—he did not pay any portion of the rent up to Lady Day—I have had to pay that—I did not owe anything at all under my liquidation in respect of the business in High Holborn—all the debts of Holborn were paid—my liquidation had nothing to do with that at all—I did not see my brother's pocket book—I told him we should require him as a witness at Lewes and I left the solicitor's clerk to see him on the subject—I asked him if he knew the takings and he said he could tell the takings—immediately after my brother was turned away I had a communication in reference to the business.
Cross-examined. This business was mine prior to Oliver entering it—it was a very good one; it paid all expenses, and left something for myself—it was very good indeed, about 500l. a year—I had two businesses in Cheapside, and I could not look after them all—the shop was never shut up as long as I had it, it was when Oliver had it—Oliver was a shopman in my employ—I did not suggest to him that he should take the business from me, and that I could not make it profitable—he knew I was going to sell it to another of my salesmen, and he proposed to take it—he was to pay the rent, 300l. a year, and also 300l. for the goodwill and fixtures—he asked me as a favour to leave him some stock, and I introduced him to various houses before he opened—he had 200l. worth of stock—I don't think he was a man of capital at that time; I don't know, I can't tell what the man had—I was paying him 50s. a week when he was in my service—he gave me bills for what he had—he paid small sums for goods, 9l. or 10l.—33l. 8s. in his bank book would be the month's rent I suppose—I had a clerk, who did all my business—I know nothing about it—I devote my attention to the financial part of the business—that 23l. in the bank book is a cash affair; if he had paid that he would have the goods for them—I manage the business on a certain amount of capital, not the daily
takings—the bills were dishonoured, and I was pressing him—on one occasion I applied to him to lend me 50l., on an I O U—he lent it to me—I have not repaid it; it was to come off the bill—he has not complained to me of this being an unsatisfactory business; he has come to me and said he was very well satisfied and saw his road to fortune—I have not made my fortune yet—I have returned myself as a creditor for 280l.—100l. represents the goodwill and fixtures, and the rest is for goods sold to him—I sold him goods at various times after the shop was opened—I took possession of the premises somewhere about March—it was shut up on the 20th, and I had possession a very few days afterwards—I was liable for the rent—the place was quite empty then—I got a good price for it—a clothier would have liked to have had it, but I preferred selling it to someone else for more money—it is a restaurant now.
Re-examined. If the prisoner had carrfed out the arrangement I should have had 300l. for the goodwill and fixtures, and 100l. a year profit rent—three people were willing to take it on the same terms—I only reckon one of the three bills which he gave me for 100l. each in the 281l. so that I might have proved for 481l.—the 50l. I had from him was got on the first bill—the arrangement was, that he was to have the I O U back to meet the bill—he came to me two or three days before the bill came due and wanted the 50l. and I said "All right, I will send a cheque on," and he ran back and said "Don't cross it, I don't want any explanation with you, I don't intend to pay your bill;" and I said "I shan't give it you"—he went back to the shop then, and turned my brother out.
JAMES BECKETT . I am a tailor's salesman at 31, Leopold Buildings, Hackney Road—I was in the prisoner's service in the beginning of December, 1873, as salesman, and I managed the place—Goldstein was the cashier—I attended to the cash after he left, and made the daily entries in the takings book—if we had had a good day the prisoner would say "We have put down enough now; there has been sufficient taken, don't enter any more;" and then I did not enter in the book any more of the takings that day, and the money I took I put in the till with the ticket which came off the clothes that were sold—that happened two or three times a week—I remember one particular day, that was the 31st January, there was a little over 50l. taken, and a sum of less than 20l. was entered—I don't remember any other particular day—it happened several times—it went on up to the 20th March, when the execution was put in, two or three times a week—some days were busy and some were slack—I entered about 15l. on the busy days, and we took about 25l.—I don't know anyone that he did business with of the name of Johnson—I never heard of him while I was there—about a fortnight before the shop was closed I was directed by the prisoner to pack some clothes; several coats for himself—there were two or three coats for the prisoner, and I think two other coats, and the remaining suit to go to a customer in the evening—they were worth about 15l.—I took them to his residence, 3, Maxwell Street, Westminster Road—the prisoner went with me—shortly before the shop was closed Mr. Gibbs, an accountant, was there, making up the books—after the shop was closed I met the prisoner and Howsham and Gibbs by appointment at the European Tavern, opposite the Mansion House—that was about the 23rd March—they went in, and had some coffee—I went with them, and then we went to Bishopsgate and then to Shoreditch, all four together—Gibbs had a bag with him—he asked me to carry the bag—I
don't think the bankrupt was there then—he left us in Shoreditch, and then Gibbs asked me to carry the bag, and he went in to get a cigar I believe, and during that time I walked slowly on as far as the Griffin—I stopped there some time, and the bankrupt came in—he said "You have got Gibbs' bag there"—I said "Yes"—he said "That is what I want, my books are in there;" so he took the bag from my hand and took out what he required, the daily takings book and a roll of invoices—that is all I remember, and they were given behind the bar to be taken care of by the landlady or the landlord, I can't swear which—Howsham was there when that was done, and I have not seen anything of them since—I could not swear whether Howsham or the bankrupt gave them behind the bar—I saw Mr. Gibbs and gave him his bag back—he said "My books are gone," or something, and I did not answer him one way or the other—I said "You have been drinking, and there is your bag"—the takings book was something like a copy book, a limp" book—I could see that the invoices were the same I had seen before at 12, High Holborn; sometimes they were filed there, and sometimes put in a clasp—they were invoices of goods purchased by the bankrupt.
Cross-examined. I am not always a sober man—I have been in several services before I went into Oliver's service—I know a Mr. Steer—I left him to better myself—he did not discharge me, I discharged myself—he did not complain of my dishonesty and drunkenness—I swear that—I am a little addicted to drink, now and again—the books the bankrupt had in his business were a large order book, and the daily takings' book, and a little black private memorandum book—I never used to interfere with that—the entries were made in the daily takings' book during the business, as I received the money—it was in the afternoons that the prisoner told me not to enter any. more—I was always sober at that time—it was out of business that I used to get a little the worse—he might have complained on one occasion of my being in that state during business hours—I don't think more—it might happen occasionally; very seldom—it did not strike me that there was anything wrong in what he was doing—he never interfered with me nor I with him—I did what I had to do and did not interfere with his private affairs—I considered that was part of my duty—I did what I was instructed—it was eight or nine days before the execution was put in that the goods worth 15l. were taken away—I should think his own goods were worth about 10l.—I should think a tailor sometimes wears his own clothes; and the others were for a customer—I was not particularly sober on the evening of the day that Gibbs gave me the bag to carry—I did not remonstrate or interfere when the book and invoices, were taken away because it was not my business, and I was under his control—when I gave the bag back to Gibbs, he missed his books and I expect he asked me about it—I said I did not know anything about it because we had been drinking—I did not give him an answer one way or the other—Mr. Stokes has not freshened up my memory particularly, he might occasionally—I had an affidavit but I could not make it out—I tried to read it—when I read it I did not know whether it was right—I could read it—I did not swear to it—I had the affidavit sometime before I was examined before the Registrar—I tried to make it out when I was sober, but I could not make it out then—I have not talked to Mr. Biggs about it—I have talked to Howsham several times about this matter—he was right enough at the time—I should think he was better than I was—I could not say whether it was the landlord or landlady of the
Griffin that the parcel was given to, and I said I could not tell when it was when I was examined at the Bankruptcy Court—I remember about the 50l. on the 31st January, because it was an extra day—I have no memorandum book or anything, but I recollect that.
ELSOME HARVEY GIBBS . I am an accountant, and have offices in London and at Littlehampton—at the latter end of February, or the beginning of March, this year, the prisoner applied to me to make out some accounts for the purpose of liquidation—I went to the premises, 12, High Holborn, for that purpose five or six times, and books and papers were handed to me—I had access, first of all, to the cash receipt book in which the daily takings were entered, also to two rolls of invoices, one of stock purchased, the other of cash paid—I also saw a banker's book and large order book—I did not use that—I have no recollection of the amount of the weekly takings from the commencement of the business—I took the cash receipt book and opened out a supplemental ledger, and posted against that the cash he had paid—I had not completed my account at the time the shop was closed on 20th March—the daily taking's book and the invoices were then in my possession, and had been for four or five days—I had taken them with me away from the place—I did not take the order book away—I saw the prisoner the day after the shop was shut up—I made an appointment to go through the books with him at Howsham's house on the Saturday—I went there with the books, he was there, and we made a further appointment on the Monday at the European—I went there with a bag and a paper parcel—the bag contained six books, the cash receipt book, the two rolls of invoices, and the supplemental ledger—the prisoner, Howsham, and Beckett came there together—we went from there to Camomile Street, Bishopsgate, and had a cup of coffee—the prisoner said that he had an appointment to go to Old Ford—we walked to Shoreditch, and the prisoner left me about 6.35 in the evening, and appointed to see me at 8 o'clock at Shoreditch Station—he had asked me for the books and papers while we were having the coffee—I said "I shall not deliver them up to you because they are incomplete"—I was to be paid 5l. for my labour—I was not paid—after he left me 1 gave my bag to Beckett, and went into a cigar shop, and when I came out I could not find him—I kept the 8 o'clock appointment, but did not see the prisoner at Shoreditch Station—I saw him at Howsham's house—I saw Howsham before I went there—I had not seen anything of my bag then, but it was given back to me about 10 o'clock the same night by Beckett; the papers and cash receipt book were not then in it—I said to the prisoner "The bag is returned empty"—he said "No doubt Beckett and Howsham have got them, and I must go in pursuit"—I met him two days after, and he asked me about the books—I said I knew nothing about them—he said "Beckett or Howsham have no doubt got them, for the purpose of extortion, and getting money from me"—I have never seen the books since—I have no trustworthy recollection as to the aggregate receipts as shown in the cash receipt book.
Cross-examined. I am a regular accountant—I was accountant to Mr. Brighton, who was at one time employed as the prisoner's solicitor—I first went through the books at the shop—I had access to all the papers that were necessary to make up the books—the prisoner went through the cash
receipt book with me—he afterwards went through the books with me at Howsham's, and expressed himself content with what I had done—the accounts were not finished then—the supplemental ledger was almost a draft, it wanted finishing—I don't think it wanted anything more than fair copying—I did not suggest at the European that he should go out of town, that his troubles had been such that a little fresh air would do him good; he suggested that on the Friday previous—he said he was very ill, he should like to go to Brighton if I would go with him—I suggested Littlehampton—he asked me for his books at that time—partly the reason I did not give them to him was because I had not been paid—I told him the reason was because I had not completed them; it was not on account of non-payment—I did not care much about that—I missed the books when Beckett came back to me—I should say he was the worse for liquor—I asked him what had become of the books, and he said he knew nothing about it—I think Howsham was a little fresh.
WILLIAM HOWSHAM . I am a tailor's cutter, living at 11, Victoria Chambers—I was employed by the prisoner, as a cutter; I was there some short time while young Goldstein was there—I went there in January and remained till the shop was shut up on 20th March—I saw a cash payment book in use there; a daily takings' book—the bankrupt used to enter in that, and Beckett and Goldstein made the entries the first part of the time the entries made as the things were sold—after Goldstein left I heard the prisoner on two or three occasions tell Beckett not to put down any more in the takings' book, at a certain time in the day—on one definite occasion Beckett did omit to enter, that was on 31st January; I recollect that, because we were very busy and several times in the evening the prisoner sent me out with silver to get exchanged for gold—he sent Beckett to the door and told him to put down no more cash, and for the rest of the day he acted as his own cashier—I can't say exactly how much had been put down when that direction was given; there was under 10l. put down altogether for the. the day—over 50l. was actually received during the day—on other occasions I have heard him tell Beckett that he had put down enough, but unless my attention was specially called to the cash book I should not remember it—, I think I went out two or three times that morning to turn silver into gold—when I sold anything I marked the price on the back of the ticket and gave it to Beckett or any one who was taking the cash and the cash with it—when the bankrupt himself was taking the money I could not say what was done with the tickets, Beckett used to put them in the till with the money and the bankrupt checked the money against the ticket—I don't know what stock was paid for or what was not; there were business invoices; part of them were kept in clasps and nippers; I have seen them on the office desk—I saw Gibbs there several times—I recollect directions being given for sending away goods—I remember some goods, including two overcoats, being made up in parcels within a fortnight of the shop being shut up; I estimated those goods at about 15l.; there were two suits of clothes for himself, two overcoats and garments made to measure for himself out of the stock in the shop; they were taken away by him and Beckett; I never saw them again—on the Monday after the shop had been shut up I went with the bankrupt and Beckett to the European—I there saw Gibbs with a bag in one hand and a parcel in the other—we left there and went to a street in Bishopsgate and had some coffee—when we came out the prisoner said he was going to Old Ford and he should leave us, and he ran and caught an
omnibus; he said he should see us again that evening—after he had gone Beckett and I and Gibbs walked on towards Shoreditch Station—I don't remember seeing Gibbs leave; I saw Beckett carrying Gibbs's bag; I don't recollect Gibbs giving it to him about an hour or two after we met the prisoner; he came to my house—I had missed Beckett after leaving Hawkins's public-house—I missed Beckett and Gibbs both, and when I got home I found Gibbs there alone—some time after Oliver came in—Gibbs told him that Beckett had got his bag—the prisoner said "Then I must go in search of him," and rushed out of the place—I went out shortly after and found Beckett at the Griffin public-house—while we were there having something to drink the prisoner came in and he took the bag; Beckett had it in his hand; he opened it and took out some books and invoices, he just looked at them and was apparently satisfied; they were his books—he told me to ask for a sheet of paper at the bar, which I did and gave to him and he made a parcel of the books, and at his request I left them over the bar; I only saw one book that I could positively identify, that was the daily takings' book, and there were some invoices—next morning the prisoner came to my house, which is about five minutes walk from the Griffin—he said he had applied at the Griffin for his books and they would not give them to him as I was the person who had left them—I went with him to the Griffin and saw Mrs. Hawkins and in his presence she handed the books to me, the same parcel I had left the night before, and I gave it to the prisoner—he went away saying that he would go down to Old Ford to take them to a person named Osborn, clerk to Mr. Long—the prisoner owes me about 10l.—I do not owe him 6l.
Cross-examined. I know how to conduct myself properly; I am not a teetotaller; I have unfortunately taken more than has been for my benefit sometimes, but that has nothing to do with this—I only saw Beckett, as I consider, the worse for liquor one occasion; I have heard the prisoner complain of it—he has not to my knowledge stopped Beckett from conducting his business on account of the state he was in—I have heard him blow Beckett up, saying that he had no business to have a glass of beer, or something of that sort—he stopped him from making entries two or three times; that was not because he had been drinking—I only remember particularly the takings' book and a book in which the measures were entered and a small book which I have seen him with—unless any thing special called my attention I should not notice the books, because that was not my business; I was employed in the shop—I did not see those books given to Gibbs—I have since been in the employ of Mr. Baggs, the trustee, five or six months; I have talked over the matter with him several times, and I have had several conversations with Mr. Stokes about it—he has not brushed up my memory—I made a draft affidavit—I did not read it through, I might have looked at it—after I had the draft affidavit I left Mr. Baggs's employ for a time and I was in other employ and could not be troubled about—while I was with Mr. Baggs what time I lost was another matter, I was in other employ, I had to trouble myself quite enough about my own concerns—Mr. Stokes summoned me to the Bankruptcy Court to give my evidence there, and I gave it to the best of my ability—I had the affidavit as to what my evidence was to be before that—I was in the habit of using the Griffin and that was how we came to meet there—I don't know whether Beckett was in the habit of using the Griffin—he knew I was, I dare say.
Re-examined. I saw Mr. Stokes, the solicitor to the trustee, before any
affidavit was prepared and I told him the story I hate told to-day as near as I can tell—I was examined at the Bankruptcy Court while I was with Mr. Baggs—probably I might recognise the affidavit if I saw it, but it is very doubtful—I am neither methodical nor very careful and I did not really scrutinise it.
WALTER FREDERICK STOKES . I am a solicitor of 40, Chancery Lane—Mr. Baggs is a wholesale clothier and he was my client and trustee in this bankruptcy—he left it to me in the usual way to get information from the defendant as to his affairs—on 3rd June I wrote the prisoner this letter. (This requested the defendant to attend at Mr. Stokes's office on 4th June with his books of accounts and any money in his hands.) He did not come and I wrote to him another letter on 10th June to the same effect—he came after that with a solicitor's clerk, the same person who is instructing Mr. Willoughby now—they came over to Bow Street where I was engaged—the bankrupt said that he had no books and that he did not mean to answer any questions, and the clerk said "I have advised him not to answer any questions, he is not bound to come to you," or words to that effect, and the prisoner said he should take his advice and not say anything more—in consequence of that he was summoned before the Bankruptcy Court on the 25th June—he was subpoenaed in the usual way—he swore in that examination that he did not refuse to answer questions; that is not true, for if he had answered questions to me I should not have wanted to take him to the Court—he has given no other information about his afiairs except what appears in his examination—he was ordered to file cash goods and deficiency accounts—he filed a banker's book which showed his payments in and out from the opening of the account to the end of the year, and he also filed the two accounts which you have already had—there was also an amended account up to the 24th January, 1874—that shows 503l. paid into the bank from the 3rd December till the 24th January—he has never given any account of any money coming to his hands except that—I have never had his books or seen them—I went to the premises after the shop was shut up, but there were no books and papers there relating to his affairs—I wrote to Edwards who was supposed to owe 17s. 6d. but the letter came back—I have not had a penny piece of assets in this case—I have a set of accounts which were produced at the liquidation meeting which he called—that shows unsecured creditors 1,216l. 2s. 6d.—that document was produced to him in his examination in the Bankruptcy Court—I examined him myself—I also examined him as to the debts of the two Cohen's from that paper—I attended the meeting of creditors called by him, he was there and the same clerk was in the room, the person behind Mr. Willoughby—this statement was produced as the statement of the would be liquidator—I asked him questions on that occasion as to the assets and debts and what had become of the assets and money received, and a variety of things—that meeting was on the 14th April at Victoria Tavern, Morpeth Road, Bethnal Green—those proceedings were not put on the file, as no resolution was passed and it was not registered—there were eight creditors I think present—I asked the prisoner what the 1,216l. was for, and he said for goods and for cash lent and so on—I asked the questions from the list of creditors marked "A" which I had in my hand—Mr. Goldstein was put down for 500l., he said that might or might not be correct, and he was not certain as to the amount, and so we went through the list, and then we came to the assets—there was an asset
returned as a bill of exchange for 50l. which ought to have been credited against Goldstein and the other asset was 300l., the agreement for the lease of shop and premises—as to the 50l. he said it was a bill of exchange given by Mr. Goldstein for 50l., but that he owed Mr. Goldstein a great deal more than that, and as to the 300l. it was the value he considered of the agreement of the lease of the premises at 12, High Holborn—the rest of the assets was cash in hand 15l.; that I took to be the only asset because Mr. Goldstein explained that he had no interest in the agreement and that came to nothing—a proposition of 1s. in the pound was made by the clerk who instructed him; the solicitor did not come in until the meeting was over, we were actually going out of the house—the meeting took twenty minutes or half an hour and I should think the prisoner was there five or ten minutes—he was asked a great many questions—I find on the liquidation file the same names as I find the creditors according to this account, making up the 1,216l. 2s. 6d.—I find that Mr. Long, the solicitor who signed that, has an office in Lansdowne Terrace Grove Road, Victoria Park, near the public-house where the meeting was held—I find Mr. Selim Cohen put down as a creditor for 200l. and Mr. B. Cohen for 16l. 5s. 1d—after that meeting I had instructions from my client to file a petition in bankruptcy—we had to obtain substituted service of the petition as we could not serve the bankrupt—he had left his then address and we could not tell where to find him at that time—there was about ten days' delay in consequence of having to obtain the substituted service—I was present on the 11th November at the adjourned meeting—the appointment was for 10.30—it was called on about 10.55, but I did not leave, till after 11 o'clock—the memorandum of his non-attendance was then put on the file—I was not present when he was taken into custody, I saw the officer almost immediately after—I was sent for.
Cross-examined. The warrant had been obtained days before, and we had an officer waiting for him—I was told he was taken near the Court—I did not offer that if he paid 5s. in the pound and 25l. for my costs that would do—I believe Messrs. Baggs were willing to take 5s. in the pound, but I don't recollect making the proposition of 25l. for any costs—I should undoubtedly look to Messrs. Baggs for my costs if I had not got them out of the bankruptcy—I am looking to them now—there is not any fund in the Bankruptcy Court for that—there is a fund for the prosecution, not for the bankruptcy—there is an order to prosecute, and when an order is made the costs of the prosecution are paid out of the fund in Court—my client was the chairman at the meeting at the public-house, and Mr. Ruby and Mr. Goldstein were the committee of inspection—Mr. Goldstein was selected because he was the largest creditor—the prisoner sought me at the Bow Street Police Court; if he had come to my office at the time I mentioned in my letter I should have been there to see him—he did not say that the Police Court was not a proper place to answer questions—I told him it was not a proper place to come to, if he would come to my office I would see him there—I put questions to him at the Police Court, and he would not answer them—the clerk said something about that I should take him to the Court, and I told him he was bound to attend on the trustee at a reasonable time and answer any questions that were put to him with regard to his affairs without putting them to the expense of going to the Court.
Re-examined, It requires certain preliminaries, before the Registrar,
acting as chief Judge, will allow a prosecution—you are obliged to have a report of the trustee of the charge, and that you can produce sufficient evidence to make out a case, and to take the opinion of counsel.
ROBERT BAGG . I am a member of the firm of Benjamin Bagg & Son, of Philpot Street, Commercial Road East, wholesale clothiers—at the time of the prisoner's shop being closed he owed us 282l. for goods supplied in the way of his trade—I was appointed trustee under the bankruptcy, and I was chairman at the liquidation meeting called at the Victoria Road—the bankrupt was there for a few minutes, and he presented a statement of accounts showing that he owed 1,291l. 2s. 6d., including the 75l. for rent, and assets of 365l.—Mr. Stokes put questions to him on the accounts—a proposal was made of 1s. in the pound, which was negatived—he has not given up a penny—Mr. Goldstein has nothing to do with this prosecution—I employed Mr. Stokes to get information from the bankrupt—the only information we have obtained from him is what was elicited in Court and the statements which he has put in—there is no foundation whatever for the statement that I have got his books—I have seen the daily takings' books on. his desk in the shop several times—I should think the books and papers which I have heard Mr. Gibbs describe would be important—I did not know of his being possessed of large sums of money and buying diamond rings—I understand the business of such a shop as that at 12, High Holborn—the average profit upon seven weeks' trading amounting to 838l., would be twenty or twenty five per cent, on the gross amount of sales, and after deducting expenses, I should think not less than ten per cent—it would be rather more than, less—I had every reason to believe it to be a profitable business.
Cross-examined. Goldstein, introduced Oliver to us—Goldsteinowes us a good deal of money—we have taken a good deal of money from him.; there is a good deal to come, and we hope to get it—it, is very desirable to have capital in a business of this description—a man starting without capital would be at a great disadvantage—Oliver paid, us some money in the early part of his trading, 50l., 30l. and soon—I don't think he paid as anything in January, and nothing since—I can't give you the name of any single creditor or debtor which he has omitted in the statement he has. made in bankruptcy—Mr. Stokes has made inquiries by my directions, as a professional man would—Howsham has been in ray service for five or six months, and I have had conversations with him upon these matters, and got all the information I could out of him—I have not seen Oliver privately about his affairs—I went to the shop on the day the execution was. put in as a creditor trying to get money, and it was a very disagreeable experience seeing the shop cleared out—the bankrupt said in his examination that he had been managing a lime light in the Strand, and at a theatre, but I don't know that it is correct, or that he has been holding up a pole at a circus for the riders to jump over it; it is new to me.
FREDERICK DUFF . I am managing common law clerk to Mr. Sheerman, solicitor, of Eastcheap, who acted for Woolf Goldstein in an action against the defendant on a bill of exchange for 100l., which was one of three bills for the purchase of the premises in High Holborn—the bill was dishonoured, and we brought an action upon it—in February, 1874, I had occasion to take the evidence of Maurice Goldstein, and he gave me particulars of the daily and weekly takings at High Holborn—I took them down at the time, and embodied them in a brief to counsel—we got a verdict for 101l., and Mr. Justice Lush gave a speedy-execution.
JOHN GORSUCH . I am a dealer in diamonds and precious stones, and I have jewellery entrusted to me by jewellers for sale, on commission or return—I saw the prisoner on one occasion outside Mr. Cohen's in the Waterloo Road early in June—he asked if I could get some things to show him, and I told him I would—I showed him three diamond rings afterwards, which he ultimately purchased of me for 53l.—he paid me all in gold fifty sovereigns and six half-sovereigns, on the 24th June—I saw him several times after that; he wanted to purchase something more of me, but I refused—he asked about a watch and earrings, and I certainly did get a pair of earrings, but he did not buy them.
Cross-examined. This is the first time I have given evidence in this matter—I had known the prisoner about a couple of months before June—I did not know him as frequenting sale rooms or buying on commission—I was introduced to him by Mr. Cohen and Mr. Terry, outside Cohen's—I believe Mr. Terry is a lime-light architect—the prisoner did not tell me he was buying these things on commission for other people—that is my business, and other people do that as well—I have not seen him at Debenham & Storr's sale rooms—I go there—I remember that he gave me fifty sovereigns and six half-sovereigns, because he asked me how I would have it, and I said it mattered not to me, and he brought me all gold—I counted it into my son's hands, and I paid it away the next morning—Mr. Terry was present when he paid me, and there was a lady and gentleman in the room at the time—I don't know who the gentleman was—I believe the lady was his sister—I have not had anything to do with him since—I know he is at Sanger's circus.
ALBERT COHEN . I live at 66, Chalk Farm Road, and am a cutlery dealer—I have known Oliver ten or twelve years—he showed me three diamond rings at the beginning of July or the latter end of June—I had heard that he had purchased them of Gorsuch, and he told me so himself afterwards—I have seen him wearing those rings as late as the beginning of September—he told me he had paid about 50l. for the three—I have seen other jewellery in his possession—he met me at Debenham's Auction Rooms about the middle of July, and bought a quantity; various articles—as they were handed up for inspection he asked me what I thought of them, and if I approved of anything he bought it—he spent about 22l. or 23l. that day—he had four packets containing 10l. each and eight loose sovereigns in his pocket besides—I have seen him frequently, and had conversations with him about what he has been doing—he told me he had been to Brighton and various races—he talked about his failure, and he told me how he had got his books—he said that a man named Gibbs had his books and he wanted them back, and that Beckett had the books in a bag, that he had taken them out and sent Beckett back with the empty bag—he spoke of it as a joke, a smart piece of business—he also said that he had the option of being a fool or a rogue, and he had chosen to be the rogue—he said that he took about 1,300l. in the business, and he had about 800l. out of that—he also showed me some gold which he had when I was at the Epsom races with him and Mr. Bernard—he wanted to bet 30l. about a horse, and he showed me what I supposed was the 30l.
Cross-examined. I am a cutlery dealer—I have been employed by the Tramway Company in a confidential capacity, and I have been instructed by Mr. Pollard, of the Treasury—I did not give my evidence before the Alderman—I heard from my father that Mr. Stokes wished to see me at 40,
Chancery Lane, and I went there last Monday week—I told him about the rings then that I had seen on the prisoner's finger—I had not seen him at Debenham's before I went with him—I believe that was the first time he had been there—I said that he had 10l. in each of the packets, because I was standing by his side when he opened them and put the money in his pocket—he did not tell me he was buying on commission for people—he bought ten rings, but I think he only gave 15s. for the ten; they were very poor ones; he also bought five watches and an Albert chain for the 22l.—he bought a gold hunting watch for himself which was 8l., 10s. or 8l. 15s.—the conversation about the books took place, I think, about May—it did not occur to me to give any information on the subject—he told me he had failed in his business—I thought that somebody had been defrauded when he told me had got 800l. out of 1,300l.; it would appear so from what hesaid—I kept the matter quiet till I was sent for to Mr. Stokes's office—I did not. trouble myself much about it.
SELIM COHEN . I am the father of the last witness, and live at 60, Pitfield Street, Hoxton—I have known the prisoner ten or twelve years—he came to me on the 3rd of December and said that he was about to take a business of Goldstein and did I know anybody who would accept a couple of bills for him which, of course, he would have to meet when they, came to maturity; they were accommodation bills—I found him a person who would accept those bills, and I was paid something for my trouble—the matter went off—he afterwards called on me at the end of March or the beginning of April and he then paid me 2l. for my trouble in the previous matter—he then asked me if I would attend a meeting of his creditors for him?—I said "What for, what can I do?"—he said he had put me down as a creditor for 200l.—I said "Are you aware that I must swear to it?"—he said there was no necessity for that, I need not prove, because they would accept his offer and the thing would all blow over—I told him I thought he had been badly advised, but from the many years I had known him I should not go out of my path to expose him, but if I was asked he might depend that I should deny it—I refused to attend the meeting—he never owed me anything, I would not trust him with a penny—I had not lent him any small sums at different times.
Cross-examined. I have trusted many people in my time in the course of my business of forty years—I am a dealer in government stores—I have acted in confidential matters for the Admiralty and the Post Office—I have been employed by the Commissioners of Police and by a Railway Company so lately as August last—I was employed in the matter of the Russian forgers from the first time they were in this Court until they were convicted—I did not go to the meeting and I don't know what day it was—why should I go, what was it to me—I have not got any deeds of the prisoner's, nor any papers, except a letter which he sent me; I never had any document of his.
ROBERT DIGBY REED . I am a clerk in the London and County Bank, Oxford Street Branch—the defendant banked there—we had an attachment lodged on his account on 2nd February, 1874, at; the suit of Woolf Goldstein—the last amount was paid in on the 24th January—33l. was drawn out on the 26th January and 5s. commission closed the account—there was no money to attach—nothing was paid in after the attachment—the account was opened on 15th December by a payment in of cash, 65l.—the account I have before me is correct.
THE COMMON SERGEANT considered this evidence was not sufficient to enable Mrs. Hamblin's deposition to be read.
EDWARD HANCOCK (City Detective Sergeant). I received a warrant on the 7th November, and apprehended the prisoner on the 11th, about 11.35, at the Seven Stars public-house, Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn—I had been waiting for him at the Bankruptcy Court, from 10.20.
Cross-examined. I heard he was coming up to be examined—he said he had come up in a cab, and there was a cab there—he said he intended to surrender, but he had not got there in time—he afterwards said that he heard there was a warrant out and he went down to Brighton to get out of the way, but he intended to surrender on this occasion—I have been round to the witnesses to find out what they could prove.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN MANSFIELD (Policeman K 389). On Saturday evening, 28th Nov., I was employed, in plain clothes, to watch a coach house at Ilford, which Mr. Armett, a butcher, had hired to stow his meat in—I saw the salesman go into a stable about 5.30, followed by Harris and Busbridge, who
PLEADED GUILTY. at the Police Court—I saw the prisoner join them about 10.30—they loitered about the premises till about 11.30, after the van had gone away they all three went into the stable—I stood at the door and heard Harris say "If I had not thought you would do better than that I would not have joined you to-night"—one of the others said "A little is better than nothing at all"—they all three-came out, and Harris ran away—the prisoner had a piece of salt beef—I stopped him and asked him how he accounted for it—he said "What's that to you?"—I said "I am a constable, and shall take you for unlawful possession of it"—he said "I shall not go"—a constable in uniform came up, and the prisoner passed the beef over to Busbridge, who threw it down, and I handed the prisoner into Watts' custody—I asked him if he had any meat at home—he said "A piece of salt beef"—I went to his lodging with the other constable when the prisoner was at the station, and found a piece of salt beef and a neck of mutton—I afterwards got the key of the stable from Busbridge and found a whole hind-quarter of mutton concealed in a manger—that is 20 yards from the coach-house—the prisoner never mentioned the mutton—he said that he bought the beef.
ADAM WATTS (Policeman A R 133). I was on duty at Ilford—Mansfield called me to take Turner, who passed something to Busbridge, who threw it down—the constable picked it up—it was 2 lbs. of salt beef—I took the prisoner to the station, and then went with Mansfield to his lodging—his landlady took a piece of the neck of mutton out of a cupboard and a piece of salt beef out of another cupboard—he was lodging there—he is not married.
this coach house, which is hired to sell meat in—the stable belongs to the Red Lion; no butcher's business is carried on there—I was in charge of the coach house in the morning—the prisoner did not purchase any meat there—I do not know him—one of the men who is convicted purchased a piece of salt meat—I did not miss any meat till the detective found it.
GEORGE HENRY ARMETT . I am a butcher, of Hatton Wall, London—I have been in the habit of sending meat to Ilford which is sold at this coach house, and at the Red Lion—I occupy both—I do not sell meat at the stable—the prisoner had no right there, only the ostler, who is convicted—I paid him for looking after the horse—on Saturday, 28th November, I sent down a ton of meat which I marked with a little cross with a knife—I had cut it all up myself—I identified it at the station house on the 29th; it was salt meat and fresh mutton—I had not missed any meat from the stable, but I was 4l. 10s. short one week, and more than 4l. 10s. the second week.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I swear to it by my mark—I do not know whether you purchased it—I sent two men down with it, and my wife.
Prisoner's Defence. I paid the butcher's wife for it. I bought a piece of salt beef and a piece of mutton.
GUILTY of stealing the beef.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. METCALFE, Q. C., and MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.; MESSRS. STRAIGHT and COOKS the Defence,
No evidence was offered by the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAM HOWE . I conduct the business of the Crown Tavern, Westminster Bridge Road—my father is the proprietor of the Duke of Clarence, public-house opposite—I saw Barrell once or twice prior to the 24th October—on the 24th, about 3.30 in the afternoon, he came in and asked me to cash this cheque for 6l. 3s. 6d., signed "Belcher & Rogers"—I told him I could not—he said my father had cashed a cheque for him before, and and I told him to go over and see him; but thinking his statement was true about my father, I subsequently cashed the cheque—I afterwards went to the office of Belcher & Rogers, 43, Fish Street Hill—I only saw their name written up; I did not see them described as shipping agents—I subsequently gave the cheque to my father.
Cross-examined. I have not said they were a firm of shipping agents—this "Belcher & Rogers, shipping agents, Fish Street Hill," is my father's writing—Barrell called on the Friday afternoon after the cheque was returned, and told me he had made it all right with my father.
WILLIAM NEWMAN HOWE . I keep the Crown public-house, which is conducted by my son—it is not true that I ever cashed a cheque for Barrell—I had never seen him before to my knowledge—I went to 164, Blackfriars Road to see him—I did not see him the first time, but I subsequently found him.
Cross-examined. About a week after the cheque was changed Barrell and Rogers came together to see me about it—Barrell said "This is Mr. Rogers who signed the cheque"—I did not get a fresh cheque from Rogers—I said at the Police Court that I went to Rogers's house and he said his bank was being amalgamated with the Reliance.
Re-examined. He promised he would give me a fresh cheque, but he did not do so—I went down to Fish Street Hill to see Rogers—the name on the door was Belcher and Rogers simply, nothing about shipping agents—I did not see Mr. Belcher at all.
WILLIAM FREDERICK RICHMOND . I live at the Bell Inn, Friar Street, Blackfriars Road, and attend to my father's business—on the 23rd October, about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, Barrell asked me to change this cheque (produced) for 2110s. drawn by Belcher Rogers, endorsed Barrell Co.—I told him at first I could not and then he said "Do if you can," and then I changed it for him—he did not say from whom he got it—my father sent for him on the Wednesday following and he came round at 2 o'clock in the afternoon—he promised to pay my father—he said he was a printer and was printing some almanacks and had printed a lot of cards for them, and he gave my father one of his cards—he said he would pay it on Saturday or Sunday.
Cross-examined. I asked Barrell to write his name on the back of the cheque and he wrote that in my presence—the card was Belcher & Rogers—I believe it was my father who instituted proceedings against him—I did not know that he had the 2l. 1s. to pay my father, because my father went round for it and I went round to Barrell's house myself for it—he said he had received the cheque in advance for some advertisements which would be put in the almanack.
FREDERICK RICHMOND . I keep the Bell—I have known Barrell by sight for some three or four years—he is a clerk to a solicitor—on the 24th October he came into my house with Rogers and he handed me a cheque—I thought at first it was for 8l. but he told me afterwards it was for 6l.—I looked at it and he asked me to cash it and I told him I had not sufficient—he said "Lend me 4l. on it"—I said "Not 4d."—my son afterwards made a communication to me and handed me the cheque for 2l. 1s.—I paid it into my bank and had it returned marked "No effects"—I saw Barrell on Sunday and I asked him who that was with him on Saturday, and he said "Young Rogers"—I asked who young Rogers was and he said "A merchant in Fish Street Hill"—he said he had been doing some printing for them and gave me a card—I said I was surprised, as I did not know he was a printer—he said he was working hard and getting on, and I said "I am very glad to hear it; it is never too late to mend"—I made inquiries at Fish Street Hill on the following Friday—I then saw Rogers—he gave me Barrell's address—I did not know where Barrell lived until then—I suppose it was Friday, the 30th October, that I saw Rogers—I asked him to give me an open cheque and I would give him a penny—he said there was an amalgamation of the banks—he said something about his firm being a respectable firm, and I said "Yes, a long firm"—he asked me to have something to drink, and I
said "I have not come for anything to drink, but for my money"—he called me into a public-house and called for half-a-quartern of whiskey and I said "No half-quarterns for me"—I had 2d. worth.
Cross-examined. I said I had changed a cheque for Barrell and I then went to Barrell's address and left a message that I should be home about 2 o'clock—when he came he brought some almanacks and showed me the name of Belcher & Rogers advertised there.
JOHN BARKBY BANNERMAN . I am manager of the Reliance Bank, 25, Finsbury Place, and I was manager of the London and English Bank—no business was done at that bank after the 22nd October—Belcher & Rogers had an account there—I have not the books of the bank here—I have got the book with the account in it—the original books of the bank are in the hands of the liquidators—the London and English Bank was started on the 13th May, 1873, and lasted until the 22nd October, 1874—it was a limited company and had upwards of twenty shareholders—the capital was very small, a little over 2,000l.—very nearly all the capital was paid up—the account was opened on 8th October by Rogers in the name of Belcher & Rogers—I saw Rogers on the 21st October—he came to hand me a cheque for 5l. 17s. 6d. to make straight a dishonoured cheque on the Birkbeck Bank—I sent them a blank cheque and wrote a letter to the firm, of Belcher and Rogers, whom I believed to be responsible people, and told them the cheque on the Birkbeck Bank had been dishonoured, and he came on the 21st with this fresh cheque so that it might be made straight in our books—I told Rogers that if he intended to open an account with the Reliance Bank he must do so on the following morning and pay in some money, as their small balance of 1l. 2s. 6d. had passed into liquidation—I did not say it was lost; they probably would get it, but not at present.
Cross-examined. I never saw Barrell until I saw him at the Southwark Police Court.
Re-examined. When I told him they only had 1l. 2s. 6d. to their credit" he said "All right, I am expect in to get some money (about 70l. or 80l.) from some property at Southampton."
Cross-examined by Rogers. You mentioned Southampton on the 21st instant—I did not send word by your boy that the Reliance and the London and English Banks were in liquidation, and that all money paid in would be just the same, and be transferred to the Reliance—I said that if you wished to open an account with the Reliance that you must come and pay in some money—I never heard you say anything about holding over the Birkbeck cheques—with reference to the cheque for 5l. 17s. 6d., you said you didn't know how it could have come back, that it was a good man you had taken it from—I said "It may be that he will have money to meet it there to-morrow," and you gave me this cheque to make it straight—I am quite sure you did not ask at first what balance you had—I told you the exact balance standing to the credit of the firm—your account had not been opened many days—only since the 8th October, and on the 17th it was drawn down to 1l. 2s. 6d.—there are very few shareholders at the present moment; it is in embryo—that cheque for 5l. 17s. 6d. has been given up—I have all the other cheques—I never made any remark to Mr. Smith the gentleman who introduced you to the Bank as to the transfer of the balance—Mr. Smith introduced you to us, and Mr. Smith I believed to be a very respectable man, and I thought you were also until I heard you were in custody.
By THE COURT. I know that there is such a person as Belcher—he called once and signed his name in the signature book on the blank line which I had reserved for his signature.
THOMAS PICKWORTH BAINES . I am a provisionmerchant of No. 50, Black-friars Road—I know Barrell, and have done so for about two years—on or about the 13th October, he brought this cheque to me (produced), which I cashed—it would be on a Tuesday—I gave him 6l. for it—it is on the Birkbeck Bank, dated 10th October, payable to J. H. Howard, or order, signed Freddrick Charles Galway—on the back is written "Pay Messrs. Barrell & Co., or order. J. H. Howard," and indorsed "G Barrell & Co."—a day or two afterwards I cashed another cheque for him, for 3l. 15s., also on the Birkbeck Bank (produced), signed Frederick Charles Galway, payable to Belcher & Rogers, not Howard—that is indorsed "Belcher & Rogers, pay C. Barrell & Co., or order. C. Barrell and Co."—I saw him after this and I told, him the cheques had been returned—he said he felt some surprise at the cheques being sent back, that he had taken them in the way of business, and asked me to pay them in again—I did so and they were returned again to me—he never paid me the money for them.
Cross-examined. He said he did not understand the matter, and he would see Belcher & Rogers, and endeavour to have it set right.
WILLIAM JONES THACKERAY . I am a coal merchant of the Midland depot, Walworth road, and have known Barrell about two months—I have supplied him with two tons of coal—in the beginning of October he brought me this cheque for 4l. 10s. to cash—I gave him a part then and the remainder afterwards—it is indorsed "C. Barrell & Co.," twice—I saw him about it a day or two afterwards, and he said he would see Mr. Galway about it—I never saw Rogers until after he was taken—Barrell had some printing to do for me but did not do it—I supplied two tons of coal to Rogers which were ordered on a post card—Barrell said he would introduce me to. Rogers.
Cross-examined. The printing was executed by a man at the Beaufort Printing Works—the printer brought it to me, and I paid for it—Barrell paid me for the ton of coals in the first instance, but not the second time—Rogers did not pay for the two tons.
Cross-examined by Rogers. I had no money from you—the landlord has paid me part of the money—he allowed me part of the money for the coals.
Rogers. I had no time—I should have paid you if I had not been in custody.
FREDERICK MORLEY HILL . I am accountant at the Birkbeck Bank—the cheques produced, purporting to be drawn by Mr. Galway, were presented at the bank for payment—they were returned marked "N. S." from our bank—the writing, "Belcher & Rogers," the Magistrate, at Southwark, asked me to compare with a letter, and they looked alike—Galway is a customer of ours—there was an item of two guineas paid into his account in October last—I have not got my books here—I made this copy account (produced)—the books are kept by a dozen clerks.
Cross-examined. We have had as much as 160l. altogether from Galway—he paid in 100l. once.
ANN COOKE . I live at No. 43, Fish Street Hill, and am the wife of Joseph Cooke, a tailor—I am the housekeeper at 43—Belcher and Rogers had offices there a fortnight before Michaelmas—Mr. Belcher told me who they were—I never saw any wine brought there for sale—the place was never furnished—some furniture was brought in, but taken away again the
same night—I cannot tell the date—I think it went away to the same parties that brought it—some one of the name of Galway came to take the fixtures—he gave the name of Howard as well, and said he was a solicitor.
Cross-examined. I do not know Barrell at all—I never saw him to my knowledge.
Cross-examined by Rogers. The man who gave me the name of Galway came for the fixtures about the 2nd November—he said there was not a a single thing, but one stool—the fixtures were all there when you came in—you had them fixed—I heard Mr. Belcher say, as a reason why the furniture went away, that it was not good enough—the man only waited one hour till Mr. Belcher came in, and he would not allow it to be kept, as, it was not good enough.Re-examined. Mr. Belcher left shortly after that—the reason why he sent the furniture away was because it was not going to be paid for.
HENRY CHARLTON STEWARDSON . I live at 6, Lesley Street, Barnsbury—Rogers has lived with me since last November, twelve months—he paid me three cheques prior to the 24th October—I cannot tell the bank they were on—one was signed "Barker" and one "Galway," on the Birkbeck Bank—they were not provided for, and he subsequently gave me the money for them.
Cross-examined. As far as I know, Rogers is a respectable man—I do not know anything of Barrell.
Cross-examined by Rogers. You gave me the money for a cheque on the London and English Bank without delay.
JOHN MARSH (Detective Officer M). On the 25th November I took Barrell into custody at 164, Blackfriars Road, in the kitchen—I did not see that there was any business of his carried" on there—I read the warrant to him—he said he had offered the money to Mr. Richmond who had refused it—he put his hand in his pocket and showed me the, money, 2l. 10s.—I found a number of papers on him and these four (produced) amongst them; two bills of exchange dated 23rd October, 1874, one for 32l. 1s., drawn by Galway and accepted by Bartram & Co., and another for 34l. 8s. accepted by Bartram & Co. and drawn by Frederick N. Galway; a memorandum from Rogers to Barrell dated 14th October: "Dear Sir, Please give to my friend, Mr. Howard, who will take this, the balance, namely, 15s., proceeds of our transaction last evening. I have been expecting to see you here to-day as you promised. Tell Mr. Howard when you will call The sauce shall be forwarded first thing to-morrow. Dear Sir, yours faithfully, H. J. Rogers." The other is dated the Reliance Bank, Limited (London and English scratched out) 21st October, 1874. "Gentlemen,—The enclosed cheque has not been honoured on presentation at the Birkbeck Bank and which amount we entered to your credit. You will oblige by signing the enclosed cheque for the amount. Yours faithfully, J. B. Bannerman." I have known Barrell for some time, and up to the present time have not known anything against him.
ROBERT PETHER (Detective Sergeant M). I apprehended Rogerson the 18th—I saw the cheque book taken from his pocket by Marsh—I found some papers on him, a pawn ticket relating to some shirts and some letters. (Cheque book produced containing cheques on the London and English Bank, one already drawn, dated 22nd October, "Pay blank (not filled in) one pound; and one 31st October, " Pay selves or bearer three pounds ten shillings" not signed). The following morning at the Police Court he said he wished to make a statement—I told him it might be used in evidence against him, and
he said "Never mind"—this is the statement (produced). (Read: "I never received any cards or printing of any kind or ever gave any orders for anything of the kind to Barrell. I met him two or three months ago at the Elephant and Castle with a Mr. Metsyard, who introduced Barrell to me. After conversation, Barrell said that I was a young man just commencing business, and anxious to get on, that he would introduce business to me, by way of putting trade in my way, but instead of his doing so, he having heard that I had some Cambridge sauce for sale, gave me an order for four dozen, amounting to 1l. 12s. 10d., which was delivered, as Barrell promised to pay me on delivery, but I have not yet received the money. About a week afterwards, Barrell asked me to oblige him with a cheque for 2l. 10s. 10d., and another cheque for 6l. 3s. 6d. I told him that I had not sufficient money to meet them at the bank, when he asked to post date them (which I did three or four days), and he promised to take them up before the time of their being presented at the bank. (Signed) 'Jno. H. Rogers, Police Court, Southwark.'")
Cross-examined. I told him that Barrell was in custody on this charge.
NOT GUILTY .
101. THOMAS GREEN (52), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charles Rowcliffe and stealing therein two bottles of brandy and other articles, his property, having been convicted at Guildford in July, 1868, and sentenced to seven years' penal servitude— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JANUARY 11TH, 1875.