CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SIXTH SESSION, HELD APRIL 5TH, 1875.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
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, April 5th, 1875, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. DAVID HENRY STONE, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir WILLIAM BALIOL BRETT, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; THE Hon. Sir ANTHONY CLEASBT, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; THOMAS SIDNEY , Esq., Sir WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE , Knt; WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, Esq., and Sir SILLS JOHN GIBBONS, Bart., Aldermen of the said City; the Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir THOMAS WHITE Knt., WILLIAM MCARTHUR , Esq., M.P., JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., and HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Esq., other 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.
JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS Esq., Alderman.
WILLIAM TIMBRELL ELLIOTT, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
STONE, MAYOR. SIXTH SESSION.
A star (*) denote 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, April 5th, 1875.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BESLEY for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution.
ALICE JAMES . I am assistant to Louisa Cook, of 252, Fulham Road—on 23rd February, between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening the prisoner came in—I served her with some muslin trimming which came to 3 3/4 d.—she handed me a florin, I sent the servant Stevens to Mrs. Cox next door for change, she brought back the change, I gave it to the prisoner and she left—shortly after Mrs. Cox brought in the florin, and I found it was bad—I put it on the mantelpiece in the parlour—I had noticed that the date was 1873—on 1st March, between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon the prisoner came in again, Miss Cook served her, I saw her, I was in the parlour—as the prisoner left I spoke to Miss Cook—she took a florin out of the till and went to the door; she could not see the prisoner, she spoke to a constable—that florin was put on the shelf with the other—on 9th March, between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, the prisoner came again—I served her with a hair net which came to 20 3/4 d.—she paid with a florin—I bit it and found that it was bad—I passed it to Miss Cook and asked her if it was good, she misunderstood me and gave me change, I gave it to the prisoner and she left—in consequence of what I said to Miss Cook she went to the door and ran after the prisoner with the florin in her hand—I gave her the other two florins and they were taken to the station.
Cross-examined. I next saw her at the station the same day—she said before the Magistrate that the first time she was in the shop was on 9th March.
served the prisoner with some muslin and lace, she said "I had some here last week"—it came to 3d., she gave me a florin in payment, I gave her the change and put the florin in the till—there was no other florin there—the moment the prisoner went out Miss James spoke to me, I then went to the till and found the florin and found that it was bad—I went to the door, I could not see the prisoner; I met the constable T 151—I showed him the florin and put it on the mantelpiece alongside another florin—on 9th March I wasi n the shop and saw the prisoner come in she was served by James who handed me a florin and said "Is this good?" but I misunderstood her and thought she asked for change, and I gave her the change, and the prisoner had it and left—I put the florin in my purse, there was no other florin there, when t he prisoner looked in my purse and found the bad florin—I went to the door with it in my hand and saw the prisoner crossing the road—she joined a man round the corner—she turned and saw me and came back to meet me—I said "You have given me a bad florin"—the man said "Oh, have you another one, there give the lady a good one "and she gave me a good florin and I gave the man the bad one—I said to the prisoner, "You have been twice in my shop before and passed bad money"—she said she had not—I said "If you will come back and give me the good for the bad I will not give you in charge"—the man said "Oh come back with the lady"—they both turned round to come back with me—the police constable on the beat there was the same I had seen on the 1st—I saw him and beckoned to him to come over and said "This woman has been passing bad money in my shop"—he asked her to show him the money she had with her—she refused—I then gave her in charge—the man ran away—I gave the other two florins to the inspector at the station.
Cross-examined. I said I believed she was the person that had been there on 23rd February and 1st March—I asked her to give me the 4s.—it was after that that I gave her into custody—she said she had not been in the shop before.
SARAH STEVENS . I was in the prosecutrix's service—I remember Miss James giving me a florin to go and get change—I don't recollect on what day it was—I did not do it more than once—I got it changed at Mrs. Cox's—I gave it to Lucy Evans, and Mrs. Fox gave me the change, one shilling and two sixpences—I took it back to Mrs. James—it was between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening.
ANN COX . I keep a confectioner's shop at 238, Fulham Road—on the evening of 23rd February, Evans brought me a florin to change—I put it on the mantelpiece, and gave her the change—I afterwards looked at the florin and found it was bad—I took it iuto Miss Cook's a few minutes afterwards.
JONATHAN TRUMAN (Policeman T 151). I was on the Fulham beat in February and March last—Miss Cook showed me a florin and made a statement to me—on 9th March I saw her in the Fulham Road—she told me the prisoner had been in the shop again uttering counterfeit coin; there were several persons standing in the street at the time—I did not notice any one connected with her—I asked the prisoner if she had any more money in her purse—she said "Yes"—I asked her to let me look at it; she refused—she denied having been in the shop before—she was searched at the station, and a quantity of linen, a book, two eggs, and 10s. 10 1/2 d. in
money was found upon her—there were two half-crowns, a shilling, two florins, some sixpences, and 4-W.—Miss Cook afterwards gave the inspector the other two florins, and I produce them.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the
CHARLES THORNE . I am eleven years old, and live at 9, Lower Osmond Street—on 3rd March, between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner spoke to me at the corner of Margaret Street, near my own house—I had never seen him before—he asked me if I would go and get him a penny egg, and gave mo a shilling to pay for it—I went to Mr. Proctor's, 44, Margaret Street—Mr. Proctor served me with the egg, and gave me sixpence, a 4d. piece, and a 1d. change—I found the prisoner in the same place, and gave him the egg and the change, and he gave me a halfpenny for my trouble—I then went on about my business—I came back in about five or ten minutes, and the prisoner was still there, and he asked me to get him two ounces of butter—he gave me a shilling to pay for it—I went to the same shop—Mr. Proctor served me—I received the butter, and sixpence and 4d., which I took to the prisoner, and as I was giving it to him Mr. Proctor came and seized him, and he got under his arm and ran away—Mr. Proctor ran after him into Wilmington Square, and I lost sight of him.
EDWARD PROCTOR . I keep a dairy at 44, Margaret Street—the last witness came to my shop on the evening of 3rd March, between 7 and 8 o'clock, for two ounces of butter, and tendered a bad shilling—I thought it was bad—I gave him the butter and the change, and left the shilling on the counter, and followed the lad out—I saw him give the butter and money to the prisoner—I seized the prisoner; he got away—I followed him and caught him in Wilmington Square—we had a struggle; a constable came up and I gave him into custody—he was brought back to the shop—I found the shilling on the counter where I had left it—I gave it to the constable, and then went to the station and gave the prisoner in charge—after coming back from the station, I found another shilling on another counter, which was also bad—I don't recollect receiving that—I took it to the station.
WALTER BENNETT . I am a bag maker, and live at 31, Tysoe Street, Wilmington Square—on 3rd March, between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening, I was in Wilmington Square, and saw the prisoner and Mr. Proctor standing there; Mr. Proctor had hold of him, and I saw the prisoner drop, a packet in the gutter by his side—I was 2 or 3 yards from him—I saw him given into custody—I then picked up the packet and took it home and opened it; it contained four bad shillings wrapped in separate pieces of paper—my mother told me to take the packet to the station, which I did, and gave it to the constable.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner drop the packet out of his left hand—I saw the policeman come up—I did not-give the packet to him I wanted to see what was in it—I could not get near the policeman, there were so many people.
HENRY WEST (Policeman G 76). I saw the prisoner and Mr. Proctor standing against the railings in Wilmington Square and a crowd round—I took the prisoner to Mr. Proctor's shop, searched him and found in his right trowsers pocket two shillings, one was broken in two—I said "Holloa, here are two more bad ones"—he said "Yes, I know there is"—in his other trowsers pocket I found three shillings, sis sixpences, a 4d. piece, and 1 10d. in coppers, all good money—about five or six minutes after I got to the station Bennett brought these four shillings, and these two I received from Mr. Proctor.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . These shillings are bad, one of the four in the packet is from the same mould as the one given for the butter and the one given for the egg is from the same mould as one of the others.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLOTTE GLENISTER . I assist my step-father in the post-office at 29, Great Russell Street—on 5th March, between 4 and 5 o'clock in the afternoon, the prisoner came and asked for a pound's worth of stamps—I gave him the stamps and he gave me a counterfeit sovereign in payment—I discovered it the moment he bad left—I kept it by itself—on 16th March about 12.30 in the day—I saw him again, I was then in the parlour—I recognised his voice, and looking up, I saw that it was the man that had given me the coin—I spoke to a witness who serves with me—he asked for a sovereign sheet of stamps, and then he asked for a sovereign's worth—she asked him for the money—he refused to show it, she asked him again for it, he said he had the money and it was all right—she asked him a third time—I moved round the counter to go the door and he ran off—he was brought back by my brother and a porter—I told him he had given me a counterfeit sovereign on the 5th—he denied it, and denied being in the shop, and said that on this occasion he had "only asked for 1s. worth—I gave the counterfeit sovereign to the constable.
CATHERINE ALBERTA STEVENS . I assist at this post-office—on 16th March the prisoner came in—Miss Glenister said something to me—the prisoner asked for a sovereign sheet of penny stamps—I got the stamps out and looked at him expecting to see him put the money out—he did not do so, and I said "Where is the money," he said "I have it here all right"—I said "Give me the money"—Miss Glenister turned to go round the counter to stop him, he saw that we were suspicious of him and ran out of the shop—he was brought back and given into custody—I saw a coin in his hands when I was offering him the stamps, but I could not see what it was.
WILLIAM GLENISTER . On 16th March, I was just going into the shop, I heard my sister call out "Stop that man"—I ran after the prisoner about 40 yards, and stopped him—I saw him come out of the shop running fast—I took him back and gave him into custody—I was in the shop on the 5th when he came, and am sure he is the same man.
JAMES ALBERT TOLD (Policeman E 38). I received the prisoner in custody—I told him the charge; he denied it—he said he asked for one shilling's worth of stamps, and that he did not pass the bad sovereign—I found on him 1s. in silver and 4d. in bronze—I produce the counterfeit sovereign which I received from Miss Glenister.
Prisoner. I went into the shop for a shilling's worth of stamps; I saw a friend passing, and ran out after him, when there was a cry of "Stop him," and the witness came up and took me back to the shop—I was never in the shop before.
GUILTY — Nine. Months' Imprisonment.
238. STANLEY JOKES (39), PLEADED GUILTY to four indictments for stealing dock warrants, and forging receipts for money— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. His defalcations were stated to amount to 6,000l., extending over five years.
240. ALFRED JAMES PRICE (30) , to embezzling and stealing the sums of 200l. and 300l., which he had received on account of the Chartered Mercantile Bank of India, his masters— Five Years' Penal Servitude . He was recommended to mercy by the Prosecutors, but his defalcations were stated to amount to between 3,000l. and 4,000l. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM MURPHY (Policeman H 69). At 2.30 a.m. on Sunday, 14th March, I heard a cry of "Police," from the direction of Wells Street—I directly after saw the prisoner running and stopped him—as I put out my hand to lay hold of him, he struck me with his right hand in the stomach—it was a severe blow, and deprived me of my breath—a sailor came up immediately after, and I identified the prisoner as being one concerned with two others in robbing him—the prisoner did not say anything—the sailor was sober.
Prisoner. As I was running I ran against the policeman. Witness. I ran across the road to him—I did not meet him direct—I put out my hand, and then he struck me with his clenched fist.
Prisoner's Defence. I was going along Wells Street, and the sailor was walking along drunk, and rolled up against me. He said "Get out of the way or else I will punch you," and he hit me and kicked me. I ran away into the policeman's arms. I never struck the policeman at all.
GUILTY **— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM HUTT (City Detective). On Tuesday evening, 16th March, I was in John Street, Minories, about 7.45—I saw Lynch there driving a one horse van containing wool—Hooper was walking by his side—I followed them into Trinity Square—Hooper stopped at the corner on the pavement, and Lynch drew his van over on the opposite side against the square and stopped, and then came back and commenced talking to Hooper—Hall then came up with another load of wool upon a van; bales of wool—he stopped at the corner of Cooper's Row and got down—he had some conversation with the
others for about a minute, and then Lynch came over and drove his van away, and Hall followed with his van—Hooper got up on Hall's load behind as the van was going on, that was in Trinity Square, and after going 30 or 40 yards round the dark part of the square, Hooper pushed a bale off into the roadway—I had to come over the gate where I was, and when I came out Hooper was off the van, about 2 yards from me—I took hold of him and told him I should take him into custody for stealing the bale of wool—he said "You have made a mistake"—I took him to the Seething Lane Police Station—I afterwards went to Brewers Quay, Thames Street, which is the wharf where they were taking the wool to be put on board a ship—Lynch was there, and Hall came down with his van while I was there—I told them I should take them into custody for being concerned with another in custody in stealing a bale of wool in Trinity Square—they said they knew nothing about it—the bale is 3 cwt.—in the direction in which they went they were not going direct to Brewer's Quay; they ought to have gone straight down through Cooper's Row to the Tower, instead of that they turned round to the right—they both lead to the same point, but the usual practice is to go straight down, and they went round the square; it was rather darker that side than the other—I knew Hooper, and therefore I followed him.
Cross-examined. Both roads lead to the same spot, and one diverges a little—Lynch was walking by the side of his horse, in front of the van, and Hall was walking by his horse—the van was in motion when the wool fell to the ground—Lynch's van was in front, and it was from Hall's van that the bale fell—Hall's van was 12 or 14 yards from Lynch's—it was about 7.55 when it was pushed off—the bales were not tied.
Re-examined. Brewers Quay is about 200 yards from the place, where the bale was thrown off.
FREDERICK HARTLEY . I live at 39, Goldsmith's Row, and am clerk to Messrs. Brown & Eagle, of Haydon Square—on Tuesday night, 16th March—I saw the the two vans loaded with thirteen bales of wool on each—that was about 7 o'clock—I saw a bale at the Thames Police Court, and identified that as being one which had been on Hall's van—I have the case of the bale here which has the import number on it—I saw how the bales were put on the van—on Hall's van there were four bales at the bottom, and nine on the top—they were not tied on—they would not want tying on—they were loaded inside the rail and would not fall off—this is the case of the bale that was dropped—the import number is 46.
Cross-examined. I don't think the bale would fall off or be shaken off by means of a rut and the bad state of the streets—they were small bales and were inside the rail of the van.
WILLIAM WILSON . I live at 59, Turner's Road, and am manager to Frederick Smither—Lynch and Hall were in his employment as carmen—I saw the bales that were taken to Brewers Quay—the detective came down to the stable and took me down to see them about 9 o'clock, on the 16th—there were thirteen in a load—the value of one bale was about 25l. or 30l.
Cross-examined. Lynch had been in the service sometime before I was there, and I have been there thirteen months—I have never heard how long he was there—Hall has been there also some considerable time—I have heard that he bore the character of a respectable man—when I went down to the quay there were twelve bales on the quay—Hall's van was standing outside, and there were twelve upon that—I did not see the other van—
the prisoners had been taken into custody before I got there—Mr. Smither requested me to state that Hall was a respectable man, and he would take him back into his employment.
WILLIAM HUTT (re-called). This is the case which enclosed the bale that I picked up—I fetched Mr. Wilson and got a pony cart, and took it to "Leman Street Police Station—at. the time I saw Hooper get up on the van, I was about 3 yards from the van, and as they went round the square I followed and kept within about 3 yards—I went along inside the rails of the square.
Prisoners' Statement before the Magistrate. Lynch says: "I never saw Hooper, till I saw him at the station—Hall only stopped his van to assist me on Tower Hill, to assist me with a horse I had down." Hall says: "I never got down or stopped my van till I got stopped on Tower Hill, to help my mates horse that was down—the bale must have fallen or I should have seen anyone get up." Hooper says: "I reserve my defence."
LYNCH and HALL— NOT GUILTY .
HOOPER— GUILTY .
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in May, 1867†— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Monday, April 5th, 1875.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
ANNIE BUCHANAN . I am barmaid at the King's Arms, Long Acre—on the afternoon of 24th March I served the prisoner with half a pint of ale, which came to 1d.—he gave me a half-crown—I did not put it into the till—while I was examining it he called for a screw of tobacco—I tried it, "found it was bad, and gave it to the landlord, who gave him in charge.
Prisoner. I called for the tobacco at the same time that I called for the beer. Witness. No—it was not till I examined the coin.
WILLIAM FORREY . I keep the King's Arms—the last witness gave me the bad half-crown—I did not hear him call for the tobacco—he said that he was not aware it was bad—I gave him in custody with the coin.
JAMES DAVID MANNING (Policeman E 317). I was in this public-house and Mr. Forrey gave the prisoner into my custody—I asked his name, he said "Henry Howard"—I found that that was false, and he told me his right name afterwards and said that the half-crown was given to him by a gentleman for carrying a box—he had no pipe or lucifers on him.
Prisoner's Defence. I am entirely innocent—a gentleman asked me to. carry a box and gave me the Half-crown.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM ALLEN TAYLOR . I am an omnibus conductor, of 13, Bolton Road, Notting Hill—on Wednesday, 10th March, the prisoner rode, in my omnibus to Charing Cross—the fare was 3d. he gave a bad shilling, which I handed to a constable—the prisoner rode in my omnibus about a week previously, from Piccadilly Circus to Praed Street, and gave me a bad
shilling—I bent it and gave it back to him and told him it was bad; he made no answer, but put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a handfull of money, and gave me a good one—the bad one grated in my teeth and I bent it—the second one on 10th March bent easily—it had not been bent before.
Prisoner. I did not ride in your bus the week previously. Witness. You rode outside it, it was my last journey—I recognised you on the second occasion as having ridden with me the week before, and I got up directly we started and spoke to the coachman.
Re-examined. On the first occasion I spoke to a constable just as the prisoner was going out of sight—I cannot say on what day of the week it was, but it was rather more than a week before the 10th.
THOMAS MORRELLS (Policeman E 462). Taylor gave the prisoner into my custody with this shilling (produced)—he appeared to be drunk, but going to the station he was perfectly sober—he was searched and four florins, four half-crowns, three shillings, six sixpences, and 6d.
Witness for the Defence.
HENRY GREENSTREET . I was ten years old last February—the prisoner is my father—we live at 1, Carlton Terrace, Kilburn—I go to school in the day and leave about 4.30, I then do my lessons for the next day and go to bed about 9 o'clock—I sleep in the same room as my father and mother—during the week before my father went away in custody he was at home every night except Friday—I do not know at what time he came home on Friday—he was taken on a Wednesday.
Cross-examined by MR. COLERIDGE. My mother has one other child, a baby—we live and sleep in the back room first floor—there are three persons in the house—I cannot tell you how many days my father was away the week before the one I have spoken of, or the week before that—I only recollect about this one week—I have not been talking to anyone about my evidence—a person who lives in the house took me to Bow Street because I did not know the way, because my mother could not bring me—I talked about it to my mother.
Re-examined by the Prisoner. One night that week we had beefsteak pudding for supper and on other nights steak and tripe.
Prisoner's Defence. I never was out after 9 o'clock any day that week except Friday; on Monday night I took home some tripe which I bought, at 7.50; I went to bed; on Tuesday I went home early; on Wednesday I returned home at 8.30, and we had some beefsteak pudding, on Thursday and Friday I did the same. Do you think it feasible 1 should give this man a shilling a week before, and should ofter another to him again.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and DE MICHELE conducted the Prosecution. MARGARET ELIZABETH WARNES. I am a post-office clerk at 20, Newgate Street—on Saturday 27th February between 4 and 5 p.m., the prisoner came and asked for 1l. 0s. 3d. worth of stamps, he produced an envelope and asked me to put them into the envelope for Mr. Newberry—I put them down on the counter—he gave me a sovereign and 3d.—I found that the sovereign was bad and told him so—he said that a gentleman sent him in from outside—I took up the stamps and handed the sovereign to Mr. Trotter who went for
a constable—the prisoner was detained—there was nothing on the envelope, I gave it and the 3d. to the police sergeant—the prisoner tied to get away, but Mr. Trotter detained him and gave him in custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not say that the gentleman outside said that you were to say that they were for Mr. Newberry—you did not get away many steps because Mr. Trotter kept-hold of your arm—I heard you ask him to come outside and see if the gentleman was there, but he said "No."
WILLIAM TROTTER . I am a hosier, of 20, Newgate Street, and keep a post office—there is a chemist named Newberry on the same side of the street—on 27th February I was in the shop when the prisoner came in—the last witness gave me a sovereign which I saw her receive, I found it was bad and marked. it—the prisoner went with me perhaps 10 yards outside—he said that Mr. Newberry had sent him to my house—my brother went out to look for Mr. Newberry—the prisoner did not go to Mr. Newberry's shop—I took him back to my shop and gave him in charge with the sovereign.
ALBERT HANKS (City Policeman 318) I was called to Mr. Trotter's shop—the prisoner said that a tall gentleman outside with a great coat and a high hat had sent him in—he was taken to the station and gave his address, 11, High Street, Gravesend—a razor was found on him, nothing else—Mr. Trotter gave me this sovereign and Float gave me three coppers and an envelope—the prisoner said that he had come from Gravesend by boat, landed at London Bridge, and paid a shilling—the Gravesend boats were not running at that time—he made no attempt to look for the man, and he did not mention the name of Newberry—nothing was written on the envelope.
Prisoner's Defence. I was coming up Newgate Street, and a gentleman asked me if 1 would mind fetching him some stamps; he gave me a sovereign, and said "Ask the mistress to put them in an envelope for Mr. Newberry," and I did so. I own that I gave a wrong address as I did not want them to know where I lived.
PLEADED GUILTY**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and De Michele conducted the Prosecution,
ELIZA PHILLIPS . I am barmaid at Fisher's Rooms, Victoria Station—on 15th March, about 4.30, the prisoner Dean came in for some brandy, which came to 4d.; she gave me a bad florin—I sent to Mr. Sweeting and gave. the coin to him, and Dean was given into custody—I had seen Shooter twice that day; he first had a sixpenny cigar, and afterwards two sand wiches and a glass of stout—I do not recollect what he paid' with, but two bad florins were taken that morning.
FREDERICK JAMES SWEETING . I live at Basledon Villas, and am the executor of the late Mr. Fisher—I was called to the bar, and I saw Dean there—the last witness gave me a florin; I marked it and gave it to the constable—Dean said "A gentleman gave it to me"—I said "When?"—she said "You know; I have been with a gentleman"—just as I was going to leave
the bar a railway constable pointed out Shooter, who. was crossing the station yard to the Underground Railway—I ran after him and said "That young woman you were with just now has been passing some bad money, will you come back?"—he said "Me; I have been with no woman" Gunn then came up, and I left Shooter with him.
WALTER GUNN . I am in the service of the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway—on 15th March I saw the prisoners come into the station yard together and go towards the Brighton station—a short time afterwards I saw Shooter by himself with his back close to the book stall, and within 30 feet of the refreshment room, standing on his toes and trying to peer over the glass—I looked into the refreshment room and saw Dean there—a constable went in, and I then saw Shooter go out and go towards the Underground Railway—Mr. Sweeting spoke to him, and he was given in custody.
RICHARD WOOLFORD (Policeman B 211). Shooter was given into my custody—I took him to the station, searched him, and found an old glove with a bad shilling in a finger of it—I do not think it is a man's glove—I also found a piece of paper marked apparently by a florin, and a shilling, and a purse with ten shillings, six sixpences, a half-crown, a sixpenny piece, and 2d. in bronze, all good.
Cross-examined by Shooter. Tenpence of that money was spent in refreshments for you, but the 2d. was there before that.
JESSE WELLS . On 4th March Dean was given into my custody with the florin at the Victoria station—I asked her if she had any more money—she said "Yes," and gave me a purse with two half-crowns in it—she was searched by the female searcher at the station, but nothing else was found.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . This florin is bad, and so is this shilling in the glove; this piece of newspaper has had money wrapped in it, and one coin has been a florin—good money would produce the marks as well as bad.
Dean produced a written defence, stating that she was an unfortunate woman and received the money from a gentleman, and that she did not know Shooter, till she met him at the station, and asked him to treat her.
Shooter's Defence. I had some refreshment at the station, and paid with half-a-crown. This woman asked me to treat her, and when she found I would not she left me, and I was taken into custody.
DEAN— GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
SHOOTER— NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 6th, 1875.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
JOHN YOUNG KEMP . I am a Conveyancing Counsel of 4, Stone Buildings, Lincoln's Inn—Mr. Karslake, the Equity Queen's Counsel, has occupied rooms at my chambers for a great many years—I take pupils, they do not attend on Saturdays generally, because I do not generally—John George Leatherbarrow, has been my clerk for about seventeen years—some two years ago, Mr. Karslake, lost his clerk by death, and Leatherbarrow became our joint clerk—about eleven months ago, in consequence of an invitation to do so by my brother I took the prisoner into my employment—at the outset he filled the vacancy of a mere boy, and he just had a few shillings, I think 10s. a week; my senior clerk paid him—I found that
he was a good writer and he was raised to 1l. a-week, after about two months—a lad named Tuck was also employed in the chambers, he was Mr. Karslake's lad; he had been a very short time in the employ—the prisoner was in the habit of sitting in a room, between my room and my pupils room—he would sit there alone, and have a table with a desk upon it, at which he was in the habit of sitting and copying—these documents marked A, B, D, E and F are papers belonging to me, they are all in the prisoner's handwriting—A is the commencement of a draft, and B is a continuation of it—this paper marked C is an application for a loan, that is also in the prisoner's writing—the paper upon which this forged cheque is written is blue draft paper—I have similar paper at my chambers; I have carefully examined the cheque—the endorsement I should say was in the prisoner's handwriting, but I can't say as to the body of the cheque, except the name of Barnes—I mean not in his ordinary handwriting—the endorsement I should say is quite like it; I was not at my chambers on Saturday, 13th February.
Cross-examined. I was not examined at the Police Court—I should say the prisoner was in my service a little short of a year—Mr. Karslake was in the habit of drawing cheques at-chambers—I have one from him every quarter for rent, and the habit was for Leatherbarrow to write the body of the cheque, and for Mr. Karslake to sign it—Leatherbarrow always drew the cheques in the cases where I have had cheques—I should say that has been the invariable practice since Leatherbarrow became our joint clerk, this cheque was not shown to me until lately, about last week I think—I don't recollect whether Mr. Dashwood or Mr. Karslake showed it me—it was at the same time that Leatherbarrow's handwriting was compared—I came to the conclusion that the body of the cheque was certainly not Leatherbarrow's writing, it does not resemble his writing—I have a good deal of his writing, and I am sure it is not his—there is no book kept at chambers, in which both Leatherbarrow and the prisoner made entries—Leatherbarrow kept all the entries of business and the accounts—the prisoner merely copied forms and opinions and endorsed opinions—they were tied in bundles monthly, and he endorsed them there is a rough book kept at chambers—that was kept by Leatherbarrow only—the prisoner might write a memorandum on paper in Leatherbarrow's absence, but not in a book—Leatherbarrow was almost always there—I believe I have given to the officer a book containing the handwriting, both of Leatherbarrow and the prisoner—there is a day-book which was kept by Leatherbarrow, the officer has that—I don't know that he has any book in which the prisoner wrote—there is only one book and that will be produced—the prisoner did not stay late at chambers—he generally went about 5 o'clock and came about 10 o'clock or a little before—Leatherbarrow would be there later; after becoming joint clerk he remained till about 7 o'clock—I believe I had told him that Mr. Karslake would no longer require his services as joint clerk after next Michaelmas—I told him that before the prisoner's arrest, about two or three weeks ago, after 13th February—I did not at the same time intimate to the prisoner that he would be the principal clerk—I did not say that Leatherbarrow would cease to be my clerk—I never contemplated dismissing him, or making him second clerk instead of first—there are five rooms in my chambers, Mr. Karslake's room, my room, the room in which the prisoner sat, the pupil room and the principal clerk's room—the desk I speak of is an ordinary slope that lay on
the table—it is a narrow table and a narrow room—from 10 till 5 o'clook all the clerks had access to the prisoner's room—I have not seen them writing there—the principal clerk had access there—the forms were kept there, and he sometimes went in and out—as a general rule there was no occasion to go to the room—the books were kept in the principal clerk's room on the other side of the passage.
Re-examined. I know Leatherbarrow's handwriting thoroughly well—no portion of the cheque is in his handwriting, not at all like it.
JOHN GEOEGE LEATHERBARROW . I live at 139, Burbige Road, Peckham—I have been nearly eighteen years in Mr. Kemp's employ as clerk—on the death of Mr. Karslake's clerk I acted as head clerk to both him and Mr. Kemp—about eleven months ago the prisoner came into the employ as second clerk, at first he was paid soemthing like 10s. a week for about two months, and after that he had 1l. a week—he had a separate room and a desk in that room where he sat when he had writing to do—the blotting paper and desk belonged to him—I knew that Mr. Karslake had an account at Child's and that he was in the habit of drawing his cheques on blue draft paper—I did not as a rule fill up the body of the cheques for him to sign, I have done so—Mr. Karslake was not in the habit of putting the words "the sum of" on his cheques, I never remember his doing so—I should think I have not put in those words when I have drawn cheques for him—this cheque was first shown to me on Tuesday, 16th February—when I was passing through my room I showed the prisoner the cheque and said "This is the forged cheque"—I took the cheque back to Child's directly—I was not aware that the prisoner was married—no portion of this cheque is my writing.
Cross-examined. Mr. Kemp intimated to me that my services as joint clerk to himself and Mr. Karslake, so far as Mr. Karslake was concerned, would end at Michaelmas—I had not been reproved by Mr. Karslake—Mr. Kemp had reproved me for insobriety—I remember going into the room when Mr. Dashwood was making a comparison of the cheque with my baud-writing—I was last in the office that morning—Mr. Dashwood said that he charged me with writing the body of the cheque—I made some remark to him, he then said that our consciences would tell us—he had charged the prisoner with forging the endorsement—I said my conscience was perfectly clear, on the matter—I did not practice writing the initials of Mr. Karslake—my attention was never called to any blotting-paper with the initials E. K. K. on it—I never remember his pointing it out to me or my destroying it—I was not the worse for liquor on 16th February—the day I was taking the cheque back to the bank I might have had a glass of ale, but I was not intoxicated—I don't think I was affected by liquor at all on that day; I think I was one day between the 13th and 25th March—I am certain that I never burnt any blotting-paper, with Mr. Karslake's initials on at any time—I did not make any comparison between the writing on the cheque and my own writing when Mr. Dashwood was there—my attention was only called to the hand-writing on the cheque and on the blotting-paper, I said that the signature was not a bit like Mr. Karslake's, I rather chaffed the bank clerks for paying a cheque with so bad a signature—I did not show them any specimen of Mr. Karslake's signature—I have not frequently filled up the body of a cheque for Mr. Karslake to sign—I keep no record of the cheques I fill up—I have not examined a great number of Mr. Karslake's cheques since 25th March, I have not seen one.
Re-examined. I rather think I said that the clerk who cashed this cheque
must have been a duffer—I don't remember what answer was made but I think the clerk who was there was rather cross about it—no imputation has been made upon my honesty, or any impropriety, except want of sobriety.
EDWARD KENT KARSLAKE , Q.C. I have chambers with Mr. Kempat 4, Stone Buildings—since 1845 I have kept an account at Messrs. Child's bank—for the last twenty-five years I have been in the habit of drawing cheques on blank paper—no portion of this cheque was written by me or with my authority—I should say it is not at all like my signature, it is much too upright, I call it very clumsy—I know Leatherbarrow's handwriting well, he has been my clerk for two or three years—I won't say that no portion of the cheque is in the least degree like his writing, but I don't recognise any similarity.
Cross-examined. I had noticed a want of sobriety in Leatherbarrow and had complained to him of it—I should say several months ago, call it four months, for the first time—I repeated the complaint once or twice afterwards; I am happy to say it has not happened often—there would be several of my signatures to papers in my chambers in my drawers, nearly all of which are kept open, and a great many with my initials E. E. K. on briefs—I have very rarely employed Leatherbarrow to fill up the body of cheques; four times a year he has done it for rent to Mr. Kemp, but probably not more than three or four times besides, if so many—I was present when Mr. Dashwood found the blotting paper—some one in my presence pointed out to the prisoner the close resemblance between the cheque and what was on the blotting paper, and he practically admitted that it was blotted on that paper; he also said most positively, without faltering in the least, that he did not know how it was done and that someone else must have done it—I think it was at this interview that Mr. Dashwood said that the body of the cheque was in the handwriting of Leatherbarrow; I think the words were uttered by Mr. Dashwood, but they may have been by Sergeant Outram—I don't recollect anything being said about the endorsement—the policeman and Mr. Dashwood did not leave and return in quarter of an hour—it was Leather barrow's duty to be there before the other clerks, but on that occasion the prisoner came first, and therefore it was that he was shown the cheque and blotting paper, before Leatherbarrow came—as soon as Leatherbarrow came I showed them to him and asked him if he could accout for it—the policeman went into some of the other rooms, and he and Mr. Dashwood were looking for papers, but I should say none of them left for the best part of an hour—I was not present when the prisoner was taken into custody and had nothing to do with his being taken.
Re-examined. I had always found Leatherbarrow most thoroughly honest. George Lionel Dashwood. I am a cashier in the employ of Child and Co. of Temple Bar, with whom Mr. Karslake keeps an account—on Saturday, 13th February, a Mr. Butler was in the employ as a cashier—he-has since left; he has retired in consequence of delicate health—we have two tills out of which cheques are paid, which are common to all the cashiers—there is also a book in which entries are made as cheques are cashed—when cheques are cashed they are put behind the actual till itself from which the monies are paid—I was at the bank on Saturday, 13th February—I did not myself take the balance of cash at 2 o'clock that day, I saw the result in writing; we draw the line at that hour—I found this forged cheque in the counting-house, it was in the hands of a gentleman, who was about to post it to Mr. Karslake's account—it was the duty of Mr. Butler to enter it in this book (produced), it was his book in fact; if he was busy he might say
to me "Write off this draft for me in my book," quite independently of who cashed it—the cheque would be placed behind the till before it was entered in the book, it would lie there perhaps for a few minutes—I find an entry in this book in the handwriting of Mr. Butler. (Mr. Besley objected to this entry being received as evidence of uttering, in the absence of the person who made it. Mr. Straight would not press the uttering but would proceed upon the forgery.) I found the cheque on Tuesday, 16th—directly I found it I went to the chambers of Mr. Karslake—I had not been there prior to that—I found the prisoner sitting there at a desk in a room by himself—between that day and the 24th I was having inquiries made and making inquiries myself in reference to this matter—on the 24th I made a search at the desk at which I had found the prisoner sitting, and in the blotting pad on the desk I found this sheet of blotting paper (produced)—on the morning of the 25th I went again to the chambers with the detective sergeant Outram, and in Mr. Karslake's presence saw the prisoner there, and showed him the forged cheque and the blotting paper; I held the blotting paper up to the light for him to see it—I told him that the cheque was a forgery and that the writing on the blotting paper was a fac simile of part of it, and I asked him how he accounted for that—I told him that I had found it in the middle of the pad at his desk—he said he did not know anything about it—Leather barrow came in shortly after and his attention was called to the blotting paper and the cheque, the prisoner was present—I told Leatherbarrow that I was under, the impression that the endorsement John Barnes was in hand of the prisoner, but that the writing on the face of the cheque I fancied was in his hand—he denied all knowledge of it also—at that time I had only a knowledge of Leatherbarrow's handwriting from what I had seen on the previous evening—I had seen some of the prisoner's writing to four or five documents, which have been produced, marked A, &c.—on Easter Tuesday I searched a coat of the prisoner that was hanging in his room, and in the pocket found the paper marked C, an application form for a loan.
Cross-examined. That was after the prisoner was in custody—I told Leatherbarrow that I thought the body of the cheque was in his hand writing—I did not use the words "I charge you with forging the cheque, and God and your own conscience know that I am speaking the truth"—I said "Your own conscience will tell you whether you have done it"—I said "I think the handwriting on the face of the cheque is yours"—I had found the blotting paper the night before—I did not compare the lines of the cheque with the blotting paper; it was so before my mind—I had not the cheque in my pocket at the time, but I found the impression a fac simile—I compared the writing on the face of the cheque with Leatherbarrow's in my own mind only, that was what made me say "I think;" I had not had possession of his writing previously—I carried it in my mind as it were—the night I found the blotting paper I had access to the chambers by Mr. Karslake's permission, and I saw one of Leatherbarrow's books, and I fancied then for the first time that the writing on the face of the cheque was his—I went to the chambers for the purpose of seeing whether there was a resemblance of the handwriting; that was the first occasion on which I examined any handwriting of Leatherbarrow's, and at the same time I examined some handwriting of the prisoner's—I had made up my mind some days before that the endorsement was the prisoner's writing—I had not seen Leatherbarrow's handwriting before I found the blotting paper—I hud not come to the conclusion that the face of the cheque was not the prisoner's
before I saw Leatherbarrow's writing; I fancied that it was done by one of the two, and it was that that made me go to the prisoner's desk—I had previously seen the prisoner's handwriting, and come to the conclusion that the endorsement was his—I was not then sure that the face of the cheque was written by another hand—I had, to a certain extent, come to that conclusion, or I should not have said to Leatherbarrow "I think "I was careful about it—I now feel perfectly certain that the face and the back are not written by different persons—I have had more time to look into it—I am not equally certain that the signature is in the same handwriting—I do not say that two persons have written the same document—I am perfectly certain that the body of the cheque was written by the same hand as the endorsement, and I think the signature is by the same hand—I am almost perfectly certain that the whole was written by the same person—I have compared the signature of the forged cheque with the signature of Mr. Karslake—I did so on 16th February—I looked up an old cheque of Mr. Karslake's—my nephew was with me when I found this blotting paper; it was not a pad, it was a quire of blotting paper, each sheet loose; this sheet was in the middle—I have not got the other sheets here; this was one of the middle sheets, and there was nothing else on it but this; I examined carefully—there were heaps of clean sheets.
WILLIAM TUCK . I live with my parents at 81, Clifton Street, Finsbury—I was Mr. Karslake's boy, employed in Mr. Kemp's chambers since 9th November—I was there on Saturday, 13th February—my hours were from 9.30 till 7 o'clock—no portion of this cheque was written by me.
Cross-examined. On 12th February, I left chambers at 7 o'clock—Mr. Leatherbarrow went away with me; he always does—I have the keys of the chambers—Leatherbarrow has also a key.
ROBERT OUTRAM (City Detective Sergeant). On Thursday morning, 25th March, in consequence of a communication, I went to Mr. Karslake's chambers with Mr. Dashwood—I there saw the prisoner—I produced the blotting paper and the forged cheque, and said to the prisoner "I need not tell you Merry that I am a police officer"—he said "No, Mr. Outram"—I said "Can you account for this?" producing the blotting paper—"This has been found in your blotting pad"—he compared the writing of the forged cheque with the blotting paper, and said "There can be no mistake about that, but I know nothing about it"—I called his attention to a piece of paper with some of his handwriting, and said " Is this your handwriting?"—he said "Yes"—I called his attention to the similarity of the endorsement on the cheque with that handwriting—he said "It looks like my handwriting, but I know nothing about it"—I then went with Mr. Dashwood to the bank, and afterwards returned and took the prisoner into custody—I said "You are charged Merry with forging this cheque, you will have to go with me to Fleet Street Police Station"—I think he again said that he knew nothing about it, and when the charge was read over to him at the station, he said "I have nothing to say, I know nothing about it"—he said he had had enough of trouble—I found a letter on him dated 21st February—he said "You will see by that, Mr. Outram, that I have been married again"—at that time he was residing at 5, Templeton Road, Highbury Vale—I went there on the Thursday evening and searched his bedroom—I found eleven".
bills there, amounting in the aggregate to 43l. 18s. 4 1/2 d., which appeared to have been paid between 15th and 20th February—on the day of the remand I showed him those bills, and told him where I had found them—as to the account for 31l. 18s. 0d. I said "I have made inquiries at this address, John, and find that this bill has been paid by your wife in gold"—he said "I handed to my wife 35l. in gold about three weeks before she left her situation"—I said "How do you account for the money?"—he said "I received 10l. as commission for buying a house for Mr. Dellow," a person that the prisoner and I know well—I found on him 1s. 1 1/2 d., several keys, and the letter produced.
Cross-examined. He was married on 21st February—I have known him many years—I have seen his wife—I produce the bill for 31l. odd; it is for household furniture—he did not say "I have had no money since my marriage, and if you had asked my wife she would have told you that I gave her what money I could scrape together four weeks before we were married"—after the remand he said "I wish you had asked her about the money before, when you saw her the first time"—I did ask her, and I told him "Your wife said all the money she had when she was married was 10l. of her own money"—I saw a deposit note at his house for a watch and chain—his wife said it was her chain and his watch—it was pawned some time in March, I think—he did not tell me that he had been trying to raise more money for the purpose of buying more furniture, or borrowing money from his sister.
JAMES HAWKEY . I am assistant salesman to Messrs. Turner, of High Street, Islington, furniture salesmen—this is one of our invoices—the goods mentioned there were ordered of me by a man on 15th February—I have no distinct recollection of the prisoner—they were afterwards paid for in gold.
Cross-examined. They were paid for by a female, I have not seen her since—I can't say that I have any recollection of the person who selected the goods, the bill was paid on the 17th, two or three days after the goods were selected.
CHARLES CHABOT . I carry on my business at 27, Red Lion Square—I am an expert in handwriting—I have had a very large experience in the comparison of handwriting for about twenty years—I have had certain documents submitted to me in this case—I have looked at the forged cheque and at the documents A, B, C, D, E and F in the handwriting of the prisoner and in my opinion the same hand that wrote those documents wrote the forged cheque—the capital "B" in "Barnes" in the endorsements the cheque is as nearly as possible identical with the "B," in the name of a firm in the document marked D, the strong point about it, independently of its general form is the manner in which it is terminated very distinctively by a loop—the "B" in document "D" is terminated in the same manner, also the "B" in document F in the same word "Barnes "and in the word "Barristers" in document C there is a peculiar habit of forming the B which the prisoner seems to have—then the small "h "in "John "in the endorsement to the forged cheque, is formed in an unusual manner, particularly the final part of it, and in the same word "John" in document C the "h" is formed in the same manner—the letter "n" in "John "and "London "in the cheque is terminated by a long up stroke, curved the wrong way, and in document C the "n" in "Templeton" is terminated in the same way—the letter "m" in the word "sum" in the cheque is terminated more distinctly in that remarkable manner, and
again in "William" in document C—the letter "a" in "Barnes" is to my mind almost identical with the "a" in "Barristers" in document C, in both instances the loop is open at the top—the "o" in the abreviation "Co." in the forged cheque has appended to it a long dash in a similar manner to the "o" in the word "no" in document C—then the well-rounded letter "l" in "Child "in the cheque is like the "l" in the word "children" in paper marked B—the "f" in the word "five" in the cheque is looped above the line and below the line, and is like the "f" in the word "of" in the eleventh line of paper B—in the cheque beneath the abreviation "th" of the date, and beneath the abreviation "rs" in "Messrs." there are two firmly written lines, very short, and similar marks of abreviation, with precisely the same touch of hand, apparently to my mind made by the same hand, occurs in document C in the abreviation of the date "17th of March," and under the "re" of "Esquire," they correspond exactly—those are the principal points, there are minor matters besides—the endorsement is most like the prisoner's ordinary hand writing, I think the writing on the face of the cheque is assumed, and I will tell you why, the prisoner invariably forms his small letter "r" with its shoulder to the left—all the "r's" in these documents are found with the shoulder to the right with one exception, one inadvertence where it is in his natural hand, and that is the earliest "r" in "February" which is very well represented by the "r" in the abreviation respec'vely in document B.
Cross-examined. I was not examined at the Police Court—I was first asked to look at this writing I think the day after Good Friday, I then gave no opinion—I had not then received all the documents to which I now refer—I can't recollect what I had, I had A and B, I don't know about the others—it was not till I had this document C, that I was perfectly satisfied it was the prisoner's handwriting—I at first said I was not satisfied, and would not give an opinion—all the matters in A and B, were not sufficient to justify my giving an absolute opinion, not sufficient to justify me in appearing against the prisoner—when I saw the document C, I said at once, "Now, I am perfectly satisfied"—I think I saw that on the following Monday—I did not see Mr. Dashwood—I have seen no one but Mr. Billing—I have had no documents before me except those to which I now refer—I was aware that the prisoner was in custody on a charge of forgery, and that he was to be examined before the Magistrate—after I had seen documents A and B, I did not attend at the Police Court—I should think I was about half an hour examining document C—I came to a conclusion before I had it in my hand half an hour, but when I had examined it I was perfectly satisfied—I drew up my report on 2nd April, last Friday, the marks under the "th" is not a very strong ground upon which I came to a conclusion—I should not come to a conclusion upon anyone ground taken by itself—some of the grounds are stronger than others—I have not weighed their relative strength—l take them cumulatively; the "h "is rather a strong point, the last turn of it is absolutely angular—I don't know that the writing on the face of the cheque is simulated; the endorsement is very nearly a natural hand; I don't know about its being absolutely the or dinary hand of the prisoner, but it is very much like, the hand in document C—the "John Barnes" seems to me very nearly like the natural hand of the prisoner, as nearly as possible—there is nothing to indicate that it is not a natural handwriting, it is the same stamp of hand as that on document C, but larger—I don't know that I can point out any
difference—I don't know anything about the signature; I would not swear whether it is, or is not written by the same hand—I have not troubled about it; the only thing I should remark about it is that the up-stroke in the final "e" in Karslake has the same character as the final up-stroke in the letters "m," and "n"—I have been examined and cross-examined a great many times.
G. L. DASHWOOD (re-examined). Mr. Butler, left the bank somewhere about 13th March—I think it may have been about the 9th—I think he has gone to the seaside—he had been feeling unfit for some time.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARTHA ELIZABETH ELLEN MERRY ; I am single, and am the prisoner's sister and live at 6, Canning Road, Highbury, with my father, who is pensioned from the City of London Police Force—I knew my brother's present wife before he married her—she was in service at Cambridge Cresent, Notting Hill—I knew of their engagement six months before they were married—I went about with her to purchase articles; I can't say the time—I did not see any money in her hand—I saw her on Monday, 31st January; she said she bad some money, I did not see it—I can't say how much she expended while I was with her; she bought several things at several shops while I was with her—I was with her at Messrs. Turner's—I can't tell when that was; the goods were sent to my brother's residence that same night—I was present when they were paid for, the same day—I saw his wife pay for them; I can't remember what she paid—she did not tell me where the money came from—I lent my brother 4l. the night before the wedding, which was on 21st February, I paid for the carriages with my own money—I know that my brother had been saving his money with the object of getting married—I have not seen him in possession of money, he was living at home up to that time—I know of a gold watch and chain being pledged on 13th March, that was to raise some money to purchase some articles of furniture.
Cross-examined. His salary was 1l. a-week, he had taken a house in Templet on Road, at a rent of 30l. a year—4l. was the only sum I lent him—I know of his having some transaction with a Mr. Dellow, in reference to a house, that was in September, 1873.
Re-examined. From that time to his marriage he had been careful, living at home at no expense—he used to give me 10s. a week, out of which I gave him 4s. 6d.—I used to give him a 1s. one morning, and 6d. another to pay his railway fare to the city.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 6th, 1875.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
249. JULIUS BURT (21) , to feloniously uttering two forged receipts for the payment of 20 francs and 80 centimes, and 15 francs and 30 centimes, with intent to defraud— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
250. PERCY DRUMMOND (16) , to two indictments for feloniously forging and uttering cheques for the payment of 16l. and 80l. with intent to defraud. He received an excellent character. Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor— Judgment Respited. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
251. CHARLES WILLIAM HILL (21) , to three indictments, for feloniously forging and uttering receipts for the payment of 4l. 2s., 4l., and 3l. 8s. 3d.; also to unlawfully obtaining eighty shirts of John Lloyd and others, and 132 shirts of Joseph Welch and others by false pretences.— Nine Month's Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
252. WILLIAM WILSON (19) and THOMAS NEWTON (17) , Robbery on Henry Pond and stealing from his person one ring and 11s., his property. MR. DIXON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS defended Newton.
HENRY POND . I am an ironplate worker—on 21st March, about 11.15 a.m. I was very drunk in the Mile End Road, but I should have got home all right if I had not been interfered with—I was knocked down and robbed of 11s. and a gold ring—I saw the prisoners there; they were surrounded by others.
Cross-examined. I should not like to swear who robbed me.
HENRY MORPHET (Policeman K 243). On 21st March I was in the Mile End Road, about 11.15 p.m., but was not on duty—I followed a gang of fifteen or twenty persons who were behind the prosecutor—I saw them make a movement and throw him down, and saw Newton rifling his pockets while he was down; Wilson was helping to hold him down—Newton took his hand from Pond's pocket and handed something to someone standing by—I know the prisoners by sight as being associated with a gang of thieves—the gang—then separated, I watched my opportunity and seized the prisoners, saying "I must take you into custody for robbing a man;" they said they had not done it—I handed Williams to another constable—I found 4s. 8d. in Newton's pocket.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I have been in the police about fifteen months—I do not know that I have made an observation "it is very wrong"—the prisoners had only got half a dozen yards from the spot when I seized them.
Cross-examined by Newton. I have not said that I thought you took something from the prosecutor.
JOHN ROZENGRAVE (Policeman K R 37.) About 11.15 on this night Wilson was pointed out to me, he was assisting several others to rob Pond—he was given into my custody and I found 4s. on him—Pond was drunk but he could get along very well.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. He was so drunk that he said that he had lost nothing.
COURT to H. POND. Q. How much had you in your pocket before? A. I had 11s. in a little bag, which was put aside for a holiday on Good Friday, I lost that bag and all—a ring was taken off my finger and a piece of my finger was taken off in getting it—I had 8s. besides the money in the bag and I had 4s. 5 1/2 d. when I got home.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Wilson says: "I came out of the White Horse at 11 o'clock and walked down Jubilee Street with Newton and met a chap—I saw a row about a drunken man, I went back to my friend and stood talking to him, when the policeman came up to me as we were going home. At the station the prosecutor said be came out with 7s. 6d. and had 4s. 10d. then; he said he did not know us." Newton says: "I was with Wilson; we crossed over to a mob about the drunken man, and as we were walking back they stopped us."
Newton's Defence. I am a hard working lad, apprenticed to Mr. Russell, a waterman, who will give me a character, and so will my father. I went down Whitechapel Road that night with this young man, and we were going home when we were laid hold of.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED COULSON . I am mate of the ship Artemis, lying in Millwall Docks—on 31st March, about 1.15 I was in the Commercial Road; it was after midnight—I was making water, and the prisoner came up and placed himself close to my elbow—I felt him touch my left side—I looked down and saw my watch guard hanging and no watch to it—I said "You have got my watch"—he said "I have not"—he ran away down the road, and I ran and caught him 30 yards off without losing sight of him—two men came up and said "Let the man go, he has not got your watch"—I was not calling out about my watch, but I had said that to the prisoner just before the men came up—they struck me on the head and knocked me down, but I still held the prisoner; we both got up again, and they knocked me down again, and the prisoner fell too, but I did not loosen my hold of him—I got up again and received a severe blow—I fell again, and lost hold of the prisoner, who ran away, and the other two men also—I could not see which way he went, I was so stunned with the blow—a constable came, and I gave information, and the prisoner was brought back in custody ten minutes afterwards—I said "That is the man that stole my watch"—he said "I am not the man"—I have not the least doubt of him—my watch was safe twenty minutes or half an hour before; the guard was round my neck, it being below my waistcoat—it was not hanging down when I undid my trousers—I had been with a lady before that, and had not parted with her a minute.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not struggling with a woman at the corner of Cannon Street to get away from her—she did not want me to go home and sleep with her—I did not promise to meet her at 11 o'clock next day—I had been with her an hour, and we had been to a private house—I never struggled with her.
Re-examined. She had been stewardess on my ship over nine months, but has left since Christmas—she is not such a person as the prisoner describes—I believe she is working with her daughter as a dressmaker—I was perfectly sober.
EDWARD COOPER (Policeman H 99). Shortly after 1 o'clock in the morning, I was on duty in the Commercial Road—Coulson spoke to me, and I went in search of the prisoner through several streets—I saw him with two others not in custody, in Essex Street, and followed them to Charlotte Street and Fieldgate Street—one man ran away; I then ran and took the prisoner—I told him it was for stealing a watch from a man—he said "What do you take me for? I have done nothing"—I took him back and met Coulson in William Street—he said "That is the man who stole my watch"—the prisoner made no reply—I took him to the station, but found nothing relating to the charge—the skin was off his right elbow, and his coat was very dirty, as if he had been down in the road—the female is here.
JANE WILLIAMSON . I am married, and am a stewardess—on 31st March I met Mr. Coulson at our house, and walked with him to Morgan Street—he said that he would go a little way back with me, and would be with me
directly—I turned to look and found ho had gone—I then saw a disturbance, and saw two or three people on the ground—I had made no disturbance, nor had I pulled him about.
Prisoner's Defence. This is not the woman who was with him, the woman with him wore a hat and a Paisley shawl. Does it stand feasible that if I had been concerned in the robbery I should not have run away as the other two-men did. I was walking quietly with my hands in my pockets, and he came up and said "I want that man's watch." My clothes were as clean as they are now. The woman could hardly hold the man up.
He was further charged with a previous conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in November, 1868, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude ,
254. GEORGE CRABBE (20), HENRY JONES (20), JAMES KEATING (17), and WILLIAM CRABBE (22) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Hill, and stealing therein 1,000 postage stamps, and other articles, his property.
MR. SIMS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. A. METCALFE defended George
AMELIA HILL . My father lives at 10, Castle Street, Oxford Street—I was at his house on 14th March, and went out with him to church at 6.48, leaving no one in the house, which was locked up quite secure—I returned with my sister at a few minutes before 9 o'clock—I rang the bell expecting to see Mrs. Hill open the door if she had got home first, but three men opened the door and came out; they were George and William Crabbe, and Keating—they went quickly down Castle Street; it was more of a run than a walk—I went into the house, and my sister fetched a policeman—a cab stood near the door, and Jones and another man stood by it—I did not speak to Jones—they were both on the ground and not on the box—I asked the other man for his number; he said that if I wanted his number I was to go round to the back of the cab, and I did so, and gave it to the constable—they went away walking, not in the cab—my sister came with a constable, and I went into the house, and everything was ransacked and turned out in the shop—I missed 12l. worth of postage stamps—the shop is not a post-office.
Cross-examined by MR. A. METCALFE. I rang the bell because I had no key—that is a light corner; there is a public-house opposite—I was close to the men when they came out—I stood on the door step—it was not long: that I saw their faces—my sister was by my side—I believe I heard her; say at the Police Court that, to the best of her belief, George Crabbe was one of the men.
Cross-examined by Jones. I asked somebody in the crowd to lend me a pencil, but I cannot say that it was you—I can swear that you were there.
Cross-examined by William Crabbe. I am positive you are one of the men.
Re-examined. Only two persons were there when I rang at the bell, and Jones was one of them—the light was full in the faces of the men who came out at the door—I have no doubt as to the identity of either of them.
LOUISA HILL . I live at 3, Masborough Terrace—on the evening of 14th. March, I met my sister and went home with her at a few minutes before 9 o'clock; she rang the bell, and in a few minutes I heard the bolt drawn,
and out rushed William and George Crabbe and Keating—I have no doub of them—I went for a policeman, and when I came back I saw Jones and another man outside the house and a cab going away—on the next Monday I went to the station; some men were put together, and I picked out George Crabbe, Keating, and Jories.
Cross-examined by MR. A. METCALFE. I said at the Police Court, that George Crabbe, was one of the men to the best of my belief—I have become a little more positive since—I am positive he is the man—I can positively swear it.
Re-examined. I said at the station "to the best of my belief"—I spoke to the best of my belief then and now.
EMMA MATILDA HILL . I am the wife of John Hill, a stationer, of 10 Castle Street, Oxford Street—on the evening of 14th March, I left the house safely locked up at a few minutes before 7 o'clock—I returned at a few minutes before 9 o'clock, and found the door broken open—the house in disorder and two chests of drawers in the bedroom ransacked—I missed 12l. worth of postage stamps—I have seen Henry Jones in our shop several times.
Cross-examined by Jones. You came on errands for your master, Mr. Barnard, the artist's colour man—I also know Keating, as an errand boy in Wells Street.
JOHN CROOK (Policeman Inspector. E). I was called to this house about 9 o'clock, and found that an entry had been made by the front door, being broken open, and the lock damaged—the shop, parlour, and bedroom were ransacked, and everything strewed about—I received a description of the men who rushed from the door from which I suspected the prisoners and went in search of them—I went next morning, Monday, to 9, Wards Place, between 7 and 8 o'clock, and found Keating and Jones in bed—I told them I should have to take them in custody for breaking into a shop in Castle Street on Sunday night—they both said "You have made a mistake"—we took them to the station, placed them with others, and the witnesses selected them out, and also George Crabbe, who had been apprehended—we searched them, but found nothing.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I assisted in getting the people together in the station—they were not constables, they were lads of about their own size, age, and description of dress—they wore coats and jackets—I do not know that some of them had smocks—the description given to me was that one was wearing a brown overcoat with very pale facings, and that they wore billy cock hats.
Cross-examined by Keating. You were not put with people with hardly any shoes or stockings, or clothes to their backs.
ALFRED LANE (Policeman E 262). On 14th March, about 11p.m., I went to 24, Sewell Street, and found George Crabbe—I told him I was a police officer, and that he would have to come with me to the station for identification—he said that he knew nothing about it, he would come to the station, and he did so—I took William Crabbe, on the 16th, in Seven Dials—I saw him with another man and told him I was a police officer, and he would have to come with me to George Street station—he said "What for?"—I said "For identification"—he said "My name is not Crabbe. my name is Morgan and I shall not come"—I took him; the other man said "Post Jim" and he took hold of a lamp-post—he said on the way to the station "I will not deny my name is Crabbe"—he was put with other. men and identified by Emily and Louisa Hill.
Cross-examined by George Crabbe. It was 4 o'clock in the morning when I took you.
Cross-examined by William Crabbe, I do not know the meaning of "post," but you took hold of the lamp-post when he said it.
HENRY HUTTON (Policeman E 65). On 14th March, between 4 and 5 o'clock p.m., I saw Keating Jones and W. Crabbe, in Foley Street, Middlesex Hospital—I knew them all—they went in the direction of Castle Street.
ALFRED BROWN (Policeman E 194). On 14th March, about 6.50 p.m., I was on duty and saw the four prisoners with another man, they walked towards Wells Street—I did not follow them, I stood at the corner and saw Jones go to Castle Street Mews and stop there—George Crabbe and the other men went down Oxford Street towards Wells Street, and a few minutes; afterwards George Crabbe and the other men came up Berner's-Street—I was then leaning against the rails of a public-house, and George Crabbe came close to me and looked me in the face, he was then with the man who is not in custody, and he turned sharp round and walked away with him—I followed William Crabbe and Keating through Oxford Market, Recent Street, Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square, and Lisle Street into Dean Street, Soho, when I lost sight of them suddenly at about 7.40—I knew them by sight, as I have had two of them in custody—I was with Lane when they were taken—Jones said that he had not been in Castle Street on Sunday, but I saw him there.
Cross-examined by MR. A. METCALFE. I was standing in Castle Street, opposite No. 10, when George Crabbe came up to me—I have no doubt he knew me by sight—I joined the police on 3rd July, 1871—I have not been in this Court befere.
Jones. I deny saying that I was not in Castle Street on Sunday night—I was not with you I was with Inspector Cooper. Witness. You were with me and you did say so.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. George Crabbe says: "I deny the charge." Jones says: "I do not deny being in Castle Street on Sunday, but I know nothing about the affair." Keating says: "I was in doors with my mother from 7 to 10 o'clock I then left my mother's and went to my lodging—I did not go further than Euston Road." William, Crabbe says: "I was at Maiden Lane and am innocent of the charge.
Witnesses for George Crabbe.
THOMAS ORAN . I know George Crabbe—I live at 35, Saville Street, and he lives in the same street, I don't know the number—on Sunday 14th March, I invited him to my place at 5.30, and he came—my wife was there and two or three young men, one of whom is named Finn—we remained at my house till 7.45, and then went to a public-house at the corner of Tich-field Street and Union Street, Mr. Sutton's—we remained there from 8.30 till 10 o'clock, and then he left my company—he being a teetotaller drank either gingerbeer or lemonade—he never left my company from 5.30 to 10 o'clock.
Cross-examined by SIMS. I have worked regularly at a printing office from September 8th, 1873, every day, it is Mr. Brettell's—I know a carver and gilder named Ward—I know Trickey—I have known George Crabbe for the last twelve months, he has been at my place twice during that time—we had tea at 5.30, and after that we were talking together, the other young men who were there cannot come because they had to go to their work—there were five or six of us altogether—my nick name is Coaley, because I work at a coal shop—my name is printed Coaley as a vice-chairman
—I presided as vice-president at a benefit for George Ward on March 20th, the man was out of work and it was a friendly meeting—I did not know that he had been in custody—I was not a friend of his—it was a subscription—I do not know John Nicholl better known as Bluey—I was not at a friendly "lead" for him on Saturday March 27th—I do not know anything about this card (produced)—when I have been out of work my friends got me up a friendly "lead"—I know nothing of a friendly "lead "on March 20th, 1875, for the benefit of Pat Willis, I do not know him—I know nothing of a "lead "for William Harper's benefit—I do not remember a friendly meeting at the Three Tuns, Moor Street, Soho—I have never to my knowledge attended friendly "leads" for the benefit of men who have been convicted, I did not know that Trickey was in trouble—I knew him by working for a carver and gilder, and he asked me if I would do him a friendly aid and come up—I swear that I did not know he had been convicted of felony—Reuben Green is outside, he is down on this card as the chairman, and he was summoned as a witness—he was not at my house that night and I don't think he saw George Crabbe.
Re-examined. All" these benefits have been for people with whom I worked or whom I knew, not for people who have been convicted—I don't associate with such persons; I have to work for my living—George Crabbe works for Mr. Welsh; he has been there eight or ten months—I have never heard any charge made against him before; I believe he has been in trouble for drunkenness, but not for felony.
COURT. Q. Do you know either of the other three prisoners? A. I have seen William Crabbe, and I have seen Jonea and Keating about the neighbourhood; I have been in that neighbourhood twenty years—my child, five years old, was also present at the tea, and I have no doubt that if you put George Crabbe with twenty others she will pick him out—I heard that he was in trouble by reading it in the paper on the Saturday before he came up at the Police Court on the Monday and was fully committed—I went to the Police Court, offered myself in evidence, and my evidence was taken down Finn was also examined and my wife and child—we had bread and butter for tea—I live in the back kitchen—Finn came in first and Crabbe about ten minutes after him—Finn is an old friend of mine—I am sure that this party was Sunday, the 14th—Crabbe was taken on the 14th and remanded for a week, and when he came up again I was a witness—the party was on the Sunday fortnight before I went up.
JANE ORAN . I am the wife of Thomas Oran—I know George Crabbe—on 14th March he came to our place to tea; my husband had invited some friends; I remember the day by a little business I had—Finn came first, George Crabbe next, and the others afterwards—Crabbe remained from 5.30 to 8.30—I was sitting there the whole time—we then went to Sutton's public-house, and George Crabbe being a teetotaller had some lemonade or ginger beer, and we remained there till 10 o'clock.
Cross-examined. I have known him about twelve months—I remember the date because I owed a little rent, and I paid three weeks' rent the next day—I got a receipt in the rent book, but that is not here—a young man named Gorham, a polisher, was also there and two or three more—Mr. Green is outside, but he did not come into my room to tea—I saw him in the public-house—I did not go with the others to the public-house, but followed soon afterwards, when I had put on my little girl's things—Green was not in my room, he only called just as I was going out, about 8.30; my
husband had then gone to the public-house—I think Green looked in at the public-house door afterwards, but he did not remain—I do not know whether he spoke to my husband in the public-house, he went on ahead before me to my husband, but I did not see him when I got there—I think he was there two or three minutes—I do not know Ward better known as Trickey—I did not attend a meeting at the Bear and Rummer, in Mortimer Street, on March 30th—I heard that a policeman had been to my place when I came home from work—I did not go to the police Court on the Monday, but on the Monday following—that was a fortnight or a week after George Crabbe had been at my house—it was a fortnight afterwards; but I do not know the day of the month.
JAMES FINN . I live at 4, Little Weymouth Street—I was at Mr. Oran's on Sunday, the 14th—I cannot tell you how I fix the date—I went there about 5.15 to take tea with Mr. Oran and his wife—George Crabbe came in afterwards, and White and Manny; nobody else—I stopped till 8.30, when we went to take some drink at Mr. Sutton's—George Crabbe went with us, and Mr. Oran and his wife and little child, we all went together, all at the same time—we remained there till 10 o'clock.
Cross-examined. The public-house is at the corner of Titchfield Street, Langham Place, and Union Street—it is not very far from the Langham Hotel—this was a fortnight before I gave evidence at the Police Court—that was March 22nd, the day before that was Sunday, and it was the Sunday week before that—it was a fortnight before.
EMMA KEATING . I am the prisoner Keating's mother—he lived with me up to two months ago—he did not live with me on Sunday, 14th March, but he came to my place that day, dressed himself, went away, came back to dinner, and went away again, came back at 7 o'clock, and remained till 9.45, when he left to go to his lodging, and I saw nothing of him till I I heard he was in trouble—he had a bad headache, and he was reading; he stayed with me as I was alone—I heard on the Tuesday that he was in custody.
Cross-examined. That was the day after he was taken—there was a remand from the 15th to the 17th, and I went to the House of Detention and saw him on the Tuesday—I knew that there was a remand till Wednesday, but I did not go and give evidence—I knew that there was a remand to the 22nd—I did not go to the House of Detention on the Tuesday that I heard he was in custody, it was the following Tuesday—I kept my bed during that time—I was ill—his brother asked him to go out on the Sunday—he was not too ill to go and give evidence, but he was at his work—his brother knew that he was charged with breaking into a house, but he is much younger; he is fourteen—I only have apartments; several other people live in the house, but they would not know whether my children are at home or out—my son always takes his meals at my house on Sundays—I took no particular notice of the date of this Sunday—he comes every Sunday to dinner—he was in the house from 7 to 10 o'clock—two little children were in the room, all the others had gone to school; my little girl may have been in, but she had to go back to her place—some of them had gone" to school, one four and one nine.
By the COURT.—His brother would have to go out, but he bad a very bad head; as she came back again, that was at 7 o'clock, the bells were just going—he only went to the street door and came back.
Witness for William Crabbe.
REUBEN GREEN . I am a stoker, and was last employed at 50, Tottenham Court Road—I have been out of employment six weeks; I left in February—I have known William Crabbe twelve months—I do not know where he lives—I met him on Sunday night, 14th March; I recollect the date precisely—I heard on the 17th that he was apprehended, but what for I did not know—I heard it in general conversation—I met him at the Great Northern station on 14th March at 7.30, and being acquainted with him by knowing his brother, we went into the Victoria Arms, at the corner of the York Road, and had something to drink, and then went up Pentonville Road and into the Penton Arms—I was with him from 7.30 to 11.30, and we parted at King's Cross Station again; I left him in the road—on 22nd March I went to the Police Court to give evidence, because I heard that he was taken for a robbery.
Cross-examined. I do not often go to King's Cross Station on Sundays, but having no place to spend my time, I went for a walk—I live about twenty minutes' walk from King's Cross Station—I know George Crabbe and Mr. and Mrs. Oran and Fenn—I also know George Ward, better known as Trickey—I was at the harmonic meeting at the Bear and Rummer on 30th March—I swear that I do not know that George Ward is a convicted thief—I have been at one other friendly meeting for another person; he was not a friend of mine, but the card was put into my hand and I went—I knew that it was got up to relieve the man, he being in trouble—I knew it as a friendly lead—I heard about this in conversation with Finn and Manny, on the 17th, but I did not know then what the charge was—I did not see Finn or the Orans on the Sunday—I was not in Castle Street at all—I did not see Finn at all on the day that I was with Crabbe—I know it was the 14th, by it being Sunday—I have not looked at an almanack, I generally go by a paper—it being necessary to give my evidence, I recollect the date, it was a week before I gave my evidence—I did not speak to any one in the public-house—I have not been round to that house—no one is here who saw us two together on the night of the 14th.
By THE COURT. I never knew William Crabbe by the name of Morgan.
Jones' Defence. I live ten minutes walk from where it occurred. I saw a cab stopped at the corner of Berners Street, and I stopped to see the cause, and saw the policemen; one went inside the house and two stood in the road. Next morning I was taken out of bed. I had nothing to do with it.
GUILTY . KEATING was further charged with a former conviction at Hammersmith in January, 1873, and WILLIAM CRABBE with a former conviction at Marlborough Street in July, 1874, to which they both
GEORGE CRABBE and JONES— Twelve Months' Imprisoment. KEATING and WILLIAM CRABBE— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment each .
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, April 6th, 1875.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
256. JOHN MCCONNELL (19) , to unlawfully obtaining, by means of false pretences, thirty shirts of John Lloyd and others, and 132 shirts of Joseph Welch and others, with intent to defraud— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
257. JAMES BARRY (37) , to feloniously forging and uttering a receipt for the payment of 8l. 15s. 4d., with intent to defraud, and also to three indictments for embezzling and stealing various sums of money received by him on account of Albert Dean, his master— Five Years Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
RICHARD HARDING ORTON . I am manager to Miss Fleming, a jeweller, of 1, Lower John Street, Golden Square—on the 13th February, the prisoner came there with a Mr. Collins—my assistant came to me upstairs, made a communication to me, and I went into the shop, where I saw Mr. Collins and the prisoner with some jewellery before them—Collins said that he had introduced that gentleman to purchase jewellery as he wanted some to give away, or words to that effect—and I looked over it, and saw what was being purchased, the transaction was all complete then, hut I did not know how I was going to be paid—presently, Mr. Collins whispered over to me, and said "It is all right"—the prisoner asked for a pen and ink, and pulled out a cheque-book—I looked at Collins, and Collins said to me directly "It is all right Mr. Orton, you can take this and get your money"—the jewellery was then handed to the prisoner, and he put it in his outside pocket—I said "I think you had better take better care of it than that"—he said "It will be all safe in my possession"—and he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out this pistol, and pointed it towards me—I said "I wish you would turn that another way, I am not particularly partial to having it pointed at my head"—he said "It's all safe in my hands, I am an old soldier in the Confederate Army," and he showed a wound which he had in his neck—previous to that I said "This cheque is crossed, please make it payable in cash"—he said "How am I to do that"—I said "Write across it pay cash, and sign your name"—Collins said "It's all right, take that down and get the money"—the prisoner turned round and said "Mr. Collins knows how I am come by my money," and Collins said "Yes, I have no doubt you will have further transactions with this gentleman when you have received the money for that"—the prisoner said he lived at Oak Lodge, Chislehurst, and he wanted the jewellery to make presents of—they went away, and I immediately got into a hansom cab, and went down to the Bank—the cheque was dishonoured—I allowed the prisoner to take the jewellery away because I had known Mr. Collins for twelve years living in the next street, and I placed confidence in him as a man of honour, and that he would not introduce the prisoner to me unless he knew him—everything he said inspired me with confidence; in fact he said "Take the cheque down and get the money, no doubt you will have further transactions"—I relied entirely on Mr. Collins—I should not have trusted or taken a cheque from anyone—I should not have allowed the goods to go without the cheque—I looked upon the cheque as money, knowing Mr. Collins, because Mr. Collins brought him to me and introduced him.
By the Prisoner. I did not come into the shop until after the purchase of the goods—the purchase was completed, but not the delivery.
wished to purchase some goods, and during their selection he told me it was all right, that he was a man worth thousands, and I could supply him with whatever goods he wanted—the prisoner gave his name and address "Colonel Danvers Guildford, Oak Lodge, Chislehurst"—when the transaction was completed I called Mr. Orton to see to the pecuniary part of the matter—these (produced) are the goods.
GBORGE SAUNDERS . I am Manager of the West London Commercial Bank—on Thursday, 11th February, the prisoner called on me bringing this letter of introduction with him. (Read: ". 9, King Street, St. James, W. From Scott, Biddulph & Co. to the Manager of the West London Commercial Bank, 34, Sloane Square. Dear Sir,—the bearer of this, Mr. Danvers Guildford, wishes to open a drawing account. He is resident now in England, having married an English lady, but was a colonel in the Confederate States Army in the last war. Yours faithfully, Scott, Biddulph & Co.") The prisoner said he wished to open an account, and told me about some large transactions he had with stocks, and asked me if I would allow him to deposit a box of jewellery with us if he opened an account—I said that we did so for our clients, and would be happy to do so for him—he produced this cheque for 1,050l., signed "A. Lascelles"—I saw the peculiarity of the endorsement, "Guildford "and "Danvers Guildford "underneath—that cheque was deposited with us, and I gave him a paying-in book and a cheque book—the entry in the paying-in book is my writing, "Vallantine, 1,050l."—Vallantine was the name of the cheque—the cheque was not cleared, and I put it there specially that it might not deceive any one—this cheque for 10l. is in the prisoner's writing, and that was presented—I did not know Scott, Biddulph & Co. personally—I knew them from their account, that was all—they had an account at the bank at that time—it has been closed since this trial commenced, by orders of my directors—I knew them as financial agents and money lenders—I knew that they had an account—I never knew that they did any financing at all—one of my clerks wrote "Not known" on the cheque.
By the Prisoner.' I have been in the bank fifteen years—the paying-in book is exactly in the same state as when I gave it to you—I sent you notice of the dishonour of the cheque immediately we had it back. (The envelope containing the notice was addressed to "5, Thanet Place, Strand, W.C." and was marked "Gone away and left no address;" it was also addressed "Grand Hotel, Brighton," and had been returned through the dead letter office.) You gave me your address as Thanet Place; you told me you were lodging there—I did not know Mr. Pugh—you mentioned that Scott, Biddulph & Co. wished you to lend a client of theirs 300l.
GEORGE FRANCIS MARHAM . I am cashier to Messrs. Vallantine & Co., foreign exchange brokers and bankers, 173, Fenchurch Street—I don't know anyone of the name of Lascelles—I never saw the prisoner to my knowledge before I saw him in custody—no person of the name of A. Lascelles had any money at our bank—we never had dealings with such a person—a gentleman from the Cheque Bank called with the cheque—he said he was from the West End Branch of the Cheque Bank, and he was making inquiries respecting Lascelles—the cheque was refused—it was not endorsed because it was not presented to us regularly—there was no demand for money.
Street—I handed it to the cashier in the usual way for cash—it was returned to me—no endorsement was made on it then.
JAMES PUGH . I live at 10, Cunningham Road, Shepherd's Bush—I am a cigar and wine merchant, wholesale and retail, and also carry on business as Scott, Biddulph & Co., at 6, King Street, St. James's, as financial agents—I became acquainted with the prisoner, between two and four months ago, in consequence of an advertisement I inserted in the newspaper, under the name of Scott, Biddulph & Co.—there is no Scott, and no Biddulph, and no company—I merely trade under that name—I first saw this cheque of Vallantine, for 1,050l. on the second hearing of this case at the Marlborough Street Police Court—I gave the prisoner the letter of introduction which has been read—I did. not know the lady—I knew that he had married an English lady, simply from his own statement to me some few weeks prior—he gave me a reference to Mr. Powis, who I had known years ago, and knew to be a highly respectable man—I did not write the letter of reference for that only, but he stated some few weeks before that he had in his possession upwards of 10,000l. worth of American Securities—I never saw them—I never saw a single 6d. of his—I only had his representations as to his means—I don't believe everybody or everything they say.
By the Prisoner. On the brass plate in St. James's it says, "Scott, Biddulph & Co., Army agents," and the advertisement in the newspapers stated the same thing—I am not recognised at all by the War Office, but if any officer requires an exchange and applies to me for it I am capable of getting it done, and am very happy to receive my commission for it—I have not done such a thing directly, and I have never effected an exchange for officers—I am not known at the War Office at all—I have no need and I have no communication with them—the advertisement also stated that I was prepared to advance money to noblemen and gentlemen to any amount; I did advance money or I obtained it for them—I have advanced money—when you applied to me for the advance of money I told you I could not advance it, but a friend would if he was satisfied with the security you represented to me there would be no difficulty—I understood nothing about American Securities myself—I gave you a letter to Mr. Taylor, my solicitor, in Furnival's Inn—that was on the 16th January, possibly—I think that was the first occasion you saw me—it is quite true that I have been convicted—I was convicted of obtaining money on a cheque from a bank where I had paid 4,000l. in and out, and one of the cashiers owed me 300l. at the time—I was tried at the Middlesex Sessions—the sentence was five years' penal servitude—I have not been convicted on any other occasion—I have been charged—it was years ago, a case of perjury in a suit—I was charged some years ago with obtaining money on a cheque; I was acquitted—I have visited your wife since you have been in custody, twice—I did not insult her on those occasions—I did not make her any improper overtures—I said—I should be very happy to be any assistance to her in obtaining her a situation if I could—in a very jocular manner I said "I am going to Portsmouth for a day or two will you take a run down," but without any design or intention—I did not make a proposal that a friend of mine would send her 5l. if she would be intimate with me—I swear that—I asked you to lend 300l. to clients of mine and said I would back the bill as they were so safe—I thought you would be in a position to lend me several hundreds—when I made that proposition to your wife she
indignantly rejected it certainly, but I think if the lady was to be put into the box now she would say there was no design about it.
By THE COURT. I deal in wines and spirits on commission, at 9, King Street, and I am a licensed for cigars from Somerset House—I have no license for wines and spirits—I don't require one—I merely sell on commission—I hold a license in the name of Pugh for tobacco.
THOMAS LEADER (Detective Officer C). I apprehended the prisoner on a warrant at Thanet Place, Strand—I told him the charge, and he said "I don't know what I have done," or something to that effect—I said "I want that pistol you have"—he said "I will give it you"—I said "I prefer taking it"—he said "It is in my left hand pocket," and I took it out; it was loaded in six chambers—I took the cheque-book, the paying-in book, and other papers that were there to the station.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The revolver was in your left hand pocket, shut up in a case—you were walking home to your lodging in Thanet Place about 11.30 on Saturday—you did not make any resistance—you told me about the drawer of the cheque—you applied for a warrant against him at the first examination, but you could not get it, as you did not mention any person's name to the Magistrate—the Magistrate said you must wait till your committal—I think it is a common thing for Americans to carry revolvers in their pockets.
Re-examined. He mentioned Lascelles as the drawer of the cheque; he said he gave him an address at Maiden in Essex, and that he wrote down there and did not get any reply; that the letter came back "Not known"—and he said there was another man, of the name of Smith, who was with him at the time.
Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I did not give the cheque to Mr. Fleming with a guilty knowledge; I was the dupe of others. I became acquainted with Scott & Co. through their advertisements. They declined my application for a loan, but subsequently, on my going to them and telling them I had got what I wanted and that I required to open a banking account, they gave me a letter of introduction to the bank in Sloane Square. I became acquainted with Collins in the same manner. When I showed him my paying-in book it had my address in it, as it now has; he saw or might have seen it, and he took it in his hands. I gave the Chislehurst address for no other reason than vanity. With regard to the endorsement being Guildford as well as my own name, I beg to say that was done in the presence of Mr. Hertz, the manager of the Cheque Bank, and of one of the cashiers in the Cheque Bank, Pall Mall. On taking the cheque he said 'This cheque is drawn in a very singular manner; it is simply payable to Mr. Guildford, there are no initials for Christian names.' I said 'Shall I endorse it Guildford and then put my own signature? He said 'Yes, that will do.' I did so. Subsequently the Cheque Bank gave me notice of the dishonour of the cheque. I made inquiries. I was told by a friend of the drawer that payment had not been advised. I immediately wrote to the manager of the bank and told him so. I requested him to present it again on the following Friday; he declined, and gave it back. In the following week, armed with the introduction of Scott & Co., I paid it into the Chelsea Bank. I pointed out to the manager the peculiarity of the endorsement. He said it was all right. I received no notice of dishonour, and presumed it was paid. I wrote all my own cheques, in perfect confidence they would be honoured, and in proof of this
I gave my wife and mother about 260l. worth of cheques, which they have since withdrawn. If I had intended to rob Mr. Fleming of his jewellery, it stands to reason if I had known his cheque was dishonoured I would not have gone to Thanet Place, as it was known as my address, and also to Collins, for it is written in the paying-in book. My wife did not like to wear the jewellery, and it was arranged to go on Monday and change it. I had plenty of time to make away with the jewellery and myself if I had wished to be dishonest; I ask the Court to take this into their merciful consideration; No sane man fearing arrest and knowing he had committed a crime would have acted as I did. I gave the drawer of the cheque 1,100l. for my bill at four months and 2l. in cash; the bill was drawn on a 12s. stamp. On one occasion Lascelles called on me he was shown in my room. He was with me more than half an hour. Previously to this I had received from Lascelles a bill for 1,050l., payable on sight. He took it away, and brought it back purporting to be signed by Vallantine & Co. He withdrew the former note and substituted the one in question. Mr. Collins was to receive 10 per cent, on the amount of my purchases with Mr. Fleming. I gave him a cheque for 13l. and some odd shillings, being his commission. It was of course dishonoured."
Prisoner's Defence. I can only say that I rely on my statement before the Magistrate.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. A. B. KELLY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES LOVELAND . I am a horse keeper—on 28th March, about 1 in the morning, I was in Cable Street—three men came across the road and collared me—two tried at my pocket and one at my parcel—I shook the two off and the one tore the, parcel and got a boot out—they then turned my pocket out and took the silver that was inside, 5s. or 6s., it might be more—I recognise Bond as one of the men—I saw the policeman catch him and bring him back with the boot in his hand—I went to the police-station and Selby was brought there—I could not recognise him, but I am quite clear about Bond—this (produced) is one of the boots I had under my arm.
WILLIAM MOON (Policeman E 281). I was on duty in Cable Street on the morning of 28th March, about 7 o'clock—I saw Selby standing at the door of the Great Eastern Chambers lodging-house—having the keys of a timber yard in my pocket, I went inside and watched about ten minutes—no one passed until the prosecutor passed—Selby gave a whistle and three men came running out, Bond and two others, and ran across towards the prosecutor—I heard him holloa out—I got out of the wicket gate and ran across towards the door, and was just in time to catch Bond, being the last of the three going in the door—one of them dropped the boot, I can't say' which—the prosecutor came over to me—his pocket was turned inside out—I told Bond the charge, and—he said "I know nothing about it, I was just walking along, going in"—I took him to the station; nothing was found upon him—I saw the boot drop as they were running in—I went into the lodging-house and apprehended Selby there.
Bond. The three men passed me and there was not time to catch them—I was walking by and the policeman says "Make him one of them.
Witness. They were all three rushing in and I was just in time to catch the last one, and that was Bond.
Selby. I can swear I never whistled at all, and I was not there at the time.
GUILTY . BOND also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in September, 1874*— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. SELBY— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM ALFRED PAUL . I am a coke contractor carrying on business at Limehouse—the prisoner was in my employment three days, from the 10th February till the 13th—on the Wednesday previous to the Saturday, when he was discharged, he delivered a sack of coke to Mrs. Riley, one to Mrs. Todd, and one to Mrs. Lott—I did not give him any authority to collect the money—he has not paid me any money—I paid him his wages.
MARGARET RILEY . I am the wife of James Riley, of 2, Ricks Court, Swan Street—I deal with Mr. Paul for coke—on the 10th February the prisoner brought me a sack—I paid him 1s. on the Monday—I asked him where Mr. Paul was, and he said he was gone his rounds in Duke's Place.
ELIZABETH TODD . I live at 5, Craig's Court—I deal with Mr. Paul—the prisoner delivered a sack of coke on 11th February—on the Sunday I gave my little girl 1s. 4d. to give him on the stairs, and she gave it him in my my presence.
CAROLINE LOTT . I am the wife of William Lott, and live at 5, Craig's Court—I deal with Mr. Paul—on 10th February the prisoner brought me a sack of coke—I paid him 1s. 6d. for it on the Sunday, and said would he be kind enough to tell Mr. Paul that there was 2d. off what I owed him, and he said he would do so.
FREDERICK DOWNS (City Detective). I took the prisoner into custody on 15th March—I told him he was charged with embezzling various sums of money of Mr. Paul, his master, and he said it was perfectly right.
Prisoner's Defence. I am very sorry, it was done through want, or I should not have done it. I was keeping my mother and little sister, and if it was for myself I should not have done it.
GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in December, 1872**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN DAVIS (City Detective). On 17th March I received some shillings from Mr. Barker, and in company with Inwood, another officer, I marked those shillings with a cross—I gave them to Inwood with certain instructions—about half an hour after Inwood came back to me, and in consequence of what he said I went to Mr. Barker's premises, 48, Bishopsgate Street, where I saw the prisoner—I was with Mr. Barker then, the prosecutor or manager of the establishment—I told the prisoner I was a detective officer, and I had received information that two persons had been there to purchase some scents, for which they paid five shillings—I said "It is nothing but fair to tell you that those shillings were marked"—he said "I have sold no scents, and I have not received any money"—I asked him to come from behind the counter, and I told him I should take him to the station, but before doing so, I should search him—he said "Well, sir, if you will
come with me I will show you where they are"—he took me behind the counter at the further end and pointed to where these five marked shillings were on a shelf behind a mortar—I told him he would have to go to the station, and he said he had got some more money that he had taken, and he took the purse, and was in the act of pulling something out, when Mr. Parker interrupted him—those are the five shillings that I had previously marked, and given to Inwood—I afterwards searched the prisoner at the station, and found eleven shillings on him—I went to his lodgings and found a quantity of scents and other articles which I produce—they have the labels of Barker & Co. on them—previously to me taking him to the station, he said he was very sorry for what he had done, and begged' Mr. Barker to forgive him, and not let him go to the station—I afterwards showed him the articles that were found at his lodging—I said "The landlady has told me that you brought these to her at. various times," and I asked him if he wished to account for them—he said some he had bought, and others he could not account for.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I could not see the money on the shelf from outside the counter where the customers stood.
GEORGE BARKER . My father carries on business as a wine merchant and druggist, at 48, Bishopsgate Street—I am the manager—the prisoner has been a salesman in the drag department about three years—he had no right to take money, there was a cashier whose duty it was to take it—when the prisoner sold goods he would make out a duplicate invoice—from certain information I received on 17th March, I gave seven shillings to Davis, and he marked them—on the same afternoon I went with Davis to our place and saw the prisoner—I stood outside while the officer went in—he said "You have been selling some scent"—King denied it, and then he said it was no good trifling or something to that effect, and said "I shall search you"—King said "If you will come across with me I will show you," and Davis followed him—I could not see King take the money up, but he handed it to Davis—he then said "I have other money here I have taken"—he took his purse out of his pocket and I interrupted him—I said "We shall accuse you of this"—I said it was a shameful thing, and he went into a. long explanation—these things produced are our property—some of them are labelled with our label, and the others are similar to what we have in stock—the prisoner had no authority to take any of those away—he did not buy them—the selling value of what the constable purchased was 30s.—these are our regular invoices.
----INWOOD (City Detective 702). I assisted Davis in marking the seven shillings—I went on to 48, Bishopsgate Street with a young man named Batchelor—I saw the prisoner there, and in my presence Batchelor purchased these two boxes of scents containing three in each box, for which he gave the prisoner three marked shillings—the prisoner did them up and gave. them to Batchelor—I afterwards purchased these six bottles for which I' paid the prisoner two marked shillings and he gave me a ticket to pay 2s. 6d. to the man over the counter downstairs—I did not pay the" 2s. 6d.—it was the prisoner's duty I believe to go down with me, but I left the prisoner's department and went right out of the house—I then went back to Davis.
JOHN BATCHELOR . I went with Inwood on the 17th and purchased these two boxes—I paid for them with three marked shillings which I had received from Inwood—I had been in the prosecutor's employment but had left at
that time—it was not the prisoner's duty to take money, he ought to have sent it down to the cashier.
The Prisoner in his defence stated that Batchelor asked him for some cheap scents and said that his companion was going to open a small shop, and he let him have them for 2s. 6d. as they had been in stock a long time, and that he made out the bill which had been produced, that the 5s. they must have left on the counter as they went out rather hurriedly, and that he put it on the shelf with the intention of seeing Mr. Barker about it and that when the detective came in he pointed them out to him, but he had no intention of appropriating the money, and that the property which was produced had been given to him at various times ranging over three years by persons of whom they bought goods.
GUILTY.Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 7th, 1875.
Before Mr. Justice Brett.
262. PATRICK CULLERTY (18), JOHN LEAKY (18), and FRANCIS DEMPSEY (16), were indicted for the wilful murder of John Gray. They were also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the manslaughter of the same person.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Cullerty and Dempsey, and MR. A. B. KELLY, defended Leary.
CHARLES HENRY KING . I am a polisher, and live at 21, New Montague Street, Spitalfields—on Saturday, 30th January, I saw a girl named Caroline Mills in Finch Street, she spoke to me—Cain was with me—I did not hear any chaff pass—on the Monday night, about 9.30, I saw Dempsey standing at the corner of Frostick Place, which runs out of Finch Street—Caroline Mills was with him; she hallooed out my name—I took no notice—she called me again, and I went over—she asked me who it was that hallooed out "Big-headed Dempsey"—I said I did not know—she said "If you don't tell me you will have a b----y punch on the nose," and Dempsey said he would punch me on the nose—I then went home—the next night, Tuesday, I was coming through the same street again about the same time, and saw the prisoners and Mills—I was alone—Dempsey challenged to fight me in the road, and before I had time to pull off my coat I was knocked down on the back of my head insensible—Leary knocked me down, leastways Cullerty I should say—it was with his leg I went down, he was behind me, I saw him do it, they were all round me—I got up and told them I would not fight anymore, I had not fought; Dempsey asked me if I was going to fight, and I said no—on the next night, Wednesday, I was coming through Finch Street between 9.50 and 9.55,1 saw Caroline Mills—she told me that Dempsey wanted me—I said I did not want him—after that I saw Dempsey in Frostick Place, and Leary, Cullerty, and I should think about ten more at the other end of Frostick Place—Morris Cantor was with me—Dempsey asked me if I was going to fight him, I said I would not fight, and I went away—I saw Denis Maddigan and John Gray and Jenner come down Frostick Place, Dempsey again challenged to fight me, and I was about to fight him when Maddigan told me not to fight as he had got a white-handled knife in his right hand—I then saw the knife, and I told him I would not fight—Dempsey then made a rush at Maddigan with the knife in his right hand, holding it so
(down by his side), and Maddigan hit him in the mouth, and knocked him down—he got up and hallooed out "Knives out and chivs ready"—i then saw Cullerty with a knife in his hand, and I saw him make a stab at Maddigan—Maddigan stooped down, and the knife went over his head, and it struck his own friend Dempsey—Dempsey fell on his knees, got up again and cried "You have stabbed your own pal, Pudding"—Cullerty turned round and said "Have I, it can't be helped, I will have my temper out on some one else"—I then ran into the road, and before I had time to return I heard Gray say "I am stabbed"—I went over to him, and saw the prisoners all running up Frostick Place, and when they were half way up Frostick Place they said "Come on, we will put the knife into you"—I don't know who it was said that—I and Maddigan went and assisted Gray from the ground; he said "Keep your eye on that man, don't lose him whatever you do, it was him that stabbed me"—he pointed to Cullerty, he was then about a dozen yards up Frostick Place, he was behind the rest, and about a dozen yards off—Leary came back, and I saw him make a kick at Gray while he was on the ground—I did not hear him say anything, he went away after that—I did not see any of the prisoners stopped—we assisted Gray to Doctor Squires—I did not go to the hospital—I did not see Cain on the Wednesday night.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I said at first that it was Leary, who knocked me down on the Tuesday, but that was a mistake, I pointed to Cullerty, I could not recollect his name—Frostick Place, is about two or three times as long as this Court—I did not go into the court on the Wednesday night—I was coming through Finch Street, the first time—it was in Frostick Place that the knives were used—the first time I was there was about 9.30—at that time I was living with my parents in New Montague Street, I am now living at a coffee shop in Osborn Street—I should not have to pass down Finch Street to get to New Montague Street—Frostick Place has an entrance at each end—I should not have to go through it to get to New Montague Street—I was coming from the whitechapel Road—I left work at 8 o'clock and had been for a walk—I went from Whitechapel Road down Osborn Street, and through Finch Street, Morris Cantor was with me, no one else—Caroline Mills was at the Finch Street end of Frostick Place—there was nobody else in the court that I could see at that time—I could see right through the court from end to end—Mills ran away, and then about fifteen were fetched back with her—I was not there three minutes—I was standing talking to Cantor, and when Mills came back there was a lot at the other end of the court—the Old Montague Street end—I did not know them, I never saw them before—they were none of the prisoners; the prisoners were at the Finch Street end—I walked about 3 yards away from the court, and was standing talking to Cantor in Finch Street—the three prisoners were then at the Finch Street corner of the court, and Mills was talking to Dempsey—I did not see anybody else—Maddigan and Gray came up together when we had been standing there about ten minutes—Dempsey wanted to fight me, and Maddigan told him he ought to be ashamed of himself to fight a lot of little boys like us—all that were there were bigger than Dempsey—Dempsey did not take his coat off—I did not see the knife in his right hand till Maddigan told me—he did not double his fist when he asked me to fight, he stood in that manner, with the knife under his coat, and said 'Come on, fight me now"—Maddigan was about half a yard from him—I
was behind Maddigan—Maddigan did not knock him down before he made a rush at him with the knife—he came up to Maddigan like that (describing), and Maddigan up with his fist and knock him down—the others who were at the other end of the court stopped there; when they heard the prisoners repeat "Knives out and chivs ready "they all came up the court, that was before Gray was stabbed—I could not say how many people were round when Gray received the wound—there might have been from twenty to twenty-six people out of their doors—I did not know who any of them were except the prisoners and Mills, and the three men with me—I did not go into the court out of any harm—I did not know that the prisoners were going to be there—I was in the habit of coming through there every night, and nobody ever interfered with me before—I don't generally go through the court—I go through Finch Street every night—when I was called over to the court by Mills I did not expect that some of these men would be there—I did not know that there was going to be any row, it was all through the girl—she told me that Dempsey wanted me, and I said I did not want him—she began the row on the Saturday, there was no quarrel then, she spoke to us as she was going through the court, we were in Finch Street, on the opposite side of the way—the quarrel was on the Monday night, about Mills, it was not between me and Dempsey—there was no quarrel at all, only him telling me he would punch me on the nose; that was about Mills; that was at the corner of the court—I did not go into the court on the Tuesday night; I passed it and saw Dempsey and Mills at the corner—Cantor was with me—Wednesday night was the first time Maddigan had been there; I only knew him by sight before—I did not know Gray before—I did not see Dempsey bleeding—I heard him say that he was stabbed—I don't know what become of him afterwards—Jenner came up along with Gray, they were not with me.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I saw Leary at the police-station—he was not then in custody—he walked to the station alongside the policeman, and as we were going along I told the policeman that he was one of them, Cullerty was then in custody—Leary went into the station himself and sat down beside me—I did not ask him whether he had seen Cullerty stab Gray—I did not say so before the Magistrate, it is a mistake—when Cullerty's name was mentioned by the policeman; I said to Leary "That's him"—that was all I said.
Re-examined. I did not see Cain there at all on the Wednesday night—I know him well—I saw him before the Magistrate, but I did not see him that night.
DENNIS MADDIGAN . I live at 9, Flower and Dean Street, and am a fish porter—I am nineteen years old—on Wednesday night, 3rd February, between 9.45 and 9.50, I was going through Finch Street, no one was with me—I met John Gray going through Finch Street, he lodged in the same house with me, Jenner was with him—they stopped me, and Gray asked me to have some beer—after that I noticed a crowd at the corner of Frostick Place, Finch Street—we went up to the corner and saw the three prisoners and King and Cain standing against them—I knew Cain before, and King only by sight—Dempsey asked King to fight him, and he sparred with his left hand and in the right he had an open-bladed white-handled knife under his coat like that (with his hand to his shoulder)—when I saw the knife I said to King "No, you must not fight; he is too big for you"—with) that Dempsey would have put the knife into him; I
saw his right hand move—he made a clout at him with his left hand and drew out the knife in his right from his coat, but I prevented him—I pushed him back, or else the knife would have gone through King—Dempsey then said to me "You can take it up if you like," and I saw the flash of a knife go across my head—he then cried out "Knives out," and Cullerty and Leary and a few more behind them said "Chivs already"—it was a general cry, meaning "Knives ready"—Cullerty then made a stab at me with a white-handled knife: it did not strike me—Gray pulled me away, and said "Look out, here is a knife"—I fell on my knees, and the knife went into his own friend Dempsey—I saw the knife in Cullerty's hand; I am quite sure of it, it was a white-handled one, the same as Dempsey's—it struck Dempsey somewhere on the shoulder, and he fell to the ground with the effect of the stab, and said "Do you know who you have stabbed? You have stabbed your own pal, Puddingy"—Cullerty said "It's done now and it can't be undone; I will have my revenge out, and put it into one of them for it"—with that he made another stab at me—Gray pulled me on one side a second time, and it went into Gray just here (the breast)—this is the coat I have on now that Gray was wearing; here-is the mark where the cut was—Gray fell to the ground—I put my hands round his waist and fell a-top of him—he said "I am stabbed," and pointing to Cullerty he said "Don't let him go"—I called on Jenner to get hold of Cullerty; I could not leave Gray—Jenner caught Cullerty by the head—he had a cap on—Jenner kept the cap and Cullerty got away from him—what happened then I do not know—there was a scrambling in the court with the three prisoners and Jenner—they all got away—Leary returned and made a kick at Gray while he was on the ground, but he kicked my forefinger; he kicked at his side—I assisted Gray to Mr. Squires' shop—he was not attended to there—we got a cab and took him to the London Hospital—he died shortly after he got there—he bled a good deal on the ground—I saw the three prisoners at the hospital—the two took their friend Dempsey there—Gray was between twenty-three and twenty-four years of age.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Cullerty and Leary stopped at the hospital with Dempsey—he was kept there—Gray and I came up to the court together—at that time Cain was standing there by King—I could not say how far they were from one another—Cantor was there—I saw him after the row—I did not take any notice of him till we came to the station—at the time of the cry "Chivs a'lready" the three prisoners were there, and about fifteen behind them.
Re-examined. I saw Jenner at the hospital with a cap, and Cullerty claimed it.
EDWARD JENNER . I am a dock labourer, and live at Flower and Dean Street—on Wednesday evening, 3rd February, I was with Maddigan—I went with him to Frostick Place—John Gray was with me—I saw a large mob—I saw Dempsey, Cullerty and King—Dempsey stood challenging King to fight—Maddigan said "He is too big for you; he has got a knife in his right hand; don't fight"—I saw that Dempsey had a white-handled knife open in his right hand—he made a strike at Maddigan, who knocked him back with his fist—he then called out "Knives out; chivs all ready"—I did not hear anybody but Dempsey call out—Cullerty then made a stab at Maddigan—I saw a white-handled knife in his hand, open—Maddigan bobbed on one side, and it went into Dempsey's shoulder—he fell to
the ground, and shouted out "Do you know what you have done? You have stabbed your own pal, Puddingy"—Cullerty said "Never mind, I can't help it; it's done now; I will have my temper out on some one now"—he made another stab at Maddigan—he was pulled on one side by Gray, and the knife struck Gray in the left side—he fell down—he was tried to be held up by Maddigan—he shouted out "Hold that man, don't lose sight of him, he has stabbed me"—he pointed to Cullerty—the prisoners ran away—I did not see either of them come back—I ran to Cullerty and collared him by the hair of his head—he bad a cap on—he then had the white-handled knife in his hand—he said "If you don't let me go I will stick it into you, for I won't be taken for it"—three or four men came to assist him to get him away, and they got him away at last—he left his cap in my hand—I put it in my pocket and ran after him again, but being dark I struck myself against a post and fell backwards, and he got away—I went back and took Gray to the doctor's shop—we were turned out of there and we put him in a cab and took him to the hospital—I there saw Cullerty and Leary sitting on a seat; they were there before us—I said, pointing to Cullerty, "That is the one, that is one of them"—he said "Me?"—I said "Yes, you"—he laughed and made a jeer of it—Maddigan said to him "You must be a cowardly fellow to use a knife"—he said "What has that to do with you?"—Maddigan said "You will have to be locked up for it"—he said "What for? you don't want to lock me up"—I gave the cap to the policeman—the policeman asked him if he knew the cap—he said "Yes, that is my cap"—he said "Where did you get the one you have got on your head?" he was wearing one then—he said "That is my mate's cap; I took it from him," meaning Dempsey—the cap was given to Cullerty.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. The first I knew of this was when I was in a public-house in Old Montague Street with Gray and another man, between 50 and 60 yards from the court—I don't know the name of the other man, he was a stranger—Maddigan and King might have come and called Gray out, I did not see them—I did not say before the Magistrate "Maddigan and King came to the public-house and called Gray out, and we all five went to Frostick Court"—I was by myself, behind, and I saw Gray and the other man in front—there were only three of us together—I was called out of the public-house by the other man, I have not seen him since, he was a young chap, a companion of Gray's I believe, he and Gray were together—Gray was about a yard in front of him—he did not say what he called us out for—I followed him and Gray to the corner of the court—we passed through the court to the Finch Street end, that was before Dempsey and King began to fight—I have said "There were five on one side and and fifteen on the other;" that was so—I did not ask what we were going there for—I have said "Gray pushed into the crowd, and Maddigan was in front of King, at the side of him," that was before Dempsey used the knife—there was a crowd round—I have said "The fighting took place between Dempsey and either Maddigan or King"—I saw Dempsey struck two or three times—there were blows going on between Dempsey and Maddigan—that was the first thing I saw—I saw the knife at the same time, Dempsey had it in his right hand—he only hit with his left—I saw him striking out with his left fist before any knife was used—I saw him struck about twice by Maddigan, after he was struck the first time he made a strike with his right hand with the knife—I have said "We were there about four minutes before Dempsey made the attack;" that is true.
JAMKS CAIN . I am fourteen years old, and live at 9, Flower and Dean Street—on the Saturday before this occurrence I was with King and saw Caroline Mills—I did not bear anything called out—on the Monday night I saw King, Dempsey and Mills, Mills said she would get King a b----punch on the nose—King said "Who is big head?"—Dempsey turned round and said "I am," and asked if he wanted anything—King said "Yes, come down here"—Dempsey would not, and King said "Well, I will come round to-morrow night," that was to fight—on Tuesday night I saw Dempsey round there with Caroline Mills—I saw King about half or three-quarters of an hour afterwards—Dempsey and King were going to fight, Mills goes away and brings Cullerty and another chap, I could not catch sight of the other one—Dempsey and King had a fight—Cullerty ran over to me and several others who were standing by and made a blow at me, he asked me what did I want—I said "Nothing"—he ran at some man that was there, then a constable came and they went away—they said they would tight on Wednesday night—I think it was King who said that—on the Wednesday night, about 9.30, I was in Finch Street—I went there alone—I first saw Mills and Dempsey, and I saw King and Maddigan going through Frostick Court, from the Finch Street end into Old Montague Street, they were going to the Black Bull to have something to drink—I saw them come back in five or ten minutee—King stood by Dempster and Maddigan, Dempsey asked if King was going to fight, Maddigan said "No, you shan't light, if you use your two hands you may"—I saw a knife under Dempsey's hand, I don't know which hand—I think Maddigan struck Dempsey, and then they halloaed out" Knives out," and "Chivs are ready"—I don't know who who it was that holloaed out—I then ran away—I saw Cullerty and Leary there, they were there all the time, I did not take much notice of them, I did not know anything about them, Cantor was there, I saw him round Finch Street.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. King and Maddigan went towards the Black Bull, I did not watch them in, I saw them return from, that direction—I saw two or three young men coming down from there—I did not see Gray with Maddigan—I heard that there was going to be a fight, so I went.
MORRIS CANTOR . I live in Nelson Court, Whitchapel—on Wednesday, 3rd February, I went into Frostick Place—I saw the three prisoners there, and King; Maddigan, Gray, and Jenner—I saw Dempsey challenge King to fight, King said he would not fight him—Maddigan said "You should not begin with little chaps like them"—I did not notice anything in Dempsey's hand—I saw Maddigan strike Dempsey and heard "Knives out and chivs ready "called, I did not notice who by—Maddigan and Dempsey then began fighting, and then I saw Gray stabbed in the heart—I could not see who stabbed him.
ROBERT JONES . I am a porter, and live at 24, Lambert Street, Commercial Road—on Wednesday night, 3rd February, I saw a crowd in Finch Street—I was in Finch Street passing by—I saw Jenner run after Cullerty (that was what I first saw) down Frostick Court, towards Montague Street—he got hold of Cullerty, and said "I wont lose you," and Cullerty made a stab at him with a knife—I did not see the knife—I saw him cuddle him round the arms, and he had got something in his hand, but I could not see what it was—Cullerty got away, and Jenner kept his cap—I then went away—I afterwards went to the hospital; I there saw Cullerty, and he said
to me "I believe you are the man that stabbed John Gray," and he made two or three motions to Dempsey in the room to come and look at us to see if he knew anybody; Dempsey came and looked all round, and he charged Jenner with stabbing him in the shoulder, and four more that came in with a woman with her eye cut—he said they had something to do with it too—I saw Leary there; he was searched, and a white-handled knife found—I saw him put his hand in his waistcoat pocket and take it out, and he tried to put it in the fire-place; he tried to throw it on one side, by the side of his trowsers—the constable took it—all these persons were strangers to me, barring Gray—I used to be in his company going on two or three years—I never saw either of the prisoners before.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I was not with Gray on this night—I was coming past at the time—I knew nothing about the fight—I had not been at the Black Bull—I could not say where Gray was when I came up; there were about five persons on his side like five of the witnesses and the three prisoners—there were no other persons there.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. That (produced) is the knife that Leary took from his pocket at the hospital; it was closed—he took it out of his waistcoat pocket and put it aside—he would have tried to throw it some where if the policeman had not been so quick upon him—he took it from his hand—the fire-place was at his back.
JOSEPH JACKSON (Policeman H 106). On Wednesday night, 3rd February, I saw Gray being helped along Brick Lane by Maddigan, Jenner and Jones, and several others; that is less than a ¼ of a mile from Frostick Place—he was bleeding very much—I got a cab and took him to the hospital—when we got there I found Cullerty and Leary in the Receiving Room, and Dempsey in a room close by, having his wounds dressed—Gray was taken charge of by the surgeon—the prisoners were pointed out to me by the witnesses, Cullerty as the man who had stabbed Gray, and Leary as the one that kicked him—Cullerty said it was not him, it was Jenner—Jenner produced a cap, and Cullerty claimed it as his—I asked him how he came by the cap he had on—he said that was Dempsey's, and Dempsey said it was his—I found nothing on Cullerty—I found this white-handled knife in Leary's waistcoat pocket—I did not see him do anything with it—I did not notice any blood on it—Dempsey pointed out four different men as the men that stabbed him and Gray; two of them were strangers, who came in with a woman to see the doctor, the others were strange men.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. When I got to the hospital Dempsay was having his wounds dressed, and the other men were waiting in the lobby.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. Leary was charged with having kicked Gray; he denied it.
ALFRED CLARK (Policeman H 120). On Wednesday, 3rd February, a few minutes before 10 o'clock, I went to Frostick Place, after seeing Gray at the doctor's shop—I saw a pool of blood near a post, and found this knife near it; it was open—I gave it to the doctor at the hospital.
GEORGE ABEL (Police Inspector). On 3rd March Dempsey was brought to the station—I told him he was charged with being concerned with two others in the wilful murder of John Gray, at Frostick Place, on the 3rd of last month—he said "I was there, I was struck in the mouth by Gray, and I was stabbed by another man who has been called as a witness. I had no knife in my possession, and I have not carried one for more than twelve months."
FREDERICK HENRY KINDON . I was house-surgeon at the London Hospital, on Wednesday, 3rd February, when John Gray was brought there a little after 10 o'clock—he was perfectly blanched and bloodless—his clothes on the left hand side were saturated with blood—I discovered a wound in his left shoulder above the armpit; it did not enter the chest—it was about 1 inch in length and 21/2 inches deep—it was not bleeding much at the time, but it burst out again, and he died about three minutes after his admission—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination, and found that the main artery in the arm had been completely divided, which was the cause of death from loss of blood—in all probability it "was a stab wound, any knife would do it—there were no marks of violence on his body—Dempsey was under my care in the hospital for three weeks—he had two knife wounds, one on the right shoulder behind, and one on the top of the left shoulder—they were not very deep.
LEAKY— NOT GUILTY .
CULLERTY and. DEMPSEY— GUILTY of manslaughter. CULLERTY— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude. DEMPSEY— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
263. ROBERT WHITEHEAD (40) , Unlawfully attempting to carnally know and abuse Emma Oxman, a girl under the age of twelve. Second Count—for a like offence on Kate Wordley. Third Count—for a like offence on Alice Court. Other Counts—for indecent assaults upon other children. MR. F. SAFFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. W. SLEIGHM the Defence.
GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment in each of the three first Counts, Six Years' in all.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 7th, 1875.
Before Mr. Baron Cleasby,
MESSRS. J. P. GRAIN and GILL conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSSES. MONTAGU WILLIAMS
and J. P. GRAIN the defence.
FANNY HORLEY . I live at Hammersmith—on 26th January, I was in Wellington Road, Hammersmith, and saw an old man pushed out of the Anglesea Tavern, but I could not see by whom—the potboy, I mean, the prisoner, then came out and pushed him down on the road with his fist—it was a hard push—I cannot say where he placed his hand, but the man fell violently—he got up and said to the prisoner "Will you leave me alone," and the prisoner ran after him and knocked him down—I do not know' whether he used his fist—he knocked him down three times altogether once in the room and twice by the broker's shop, and he never got up any more—he called out "He has broken my leg"—the prisoner ran away up the Wellington Road—the old man did not run after the prisoner or use any bad language or shout.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was not outside the door till he followed Smart out in a few minutes—Mr. Tenby, the landlord, stood at the door and said "That is right, give it him"—Smart did not say a word when the prisoner came out, if Mr. Tenby comes and say that he did it is false, for
I was close by—Smart might have had a little beer, but he was not tipsy—I did not hear him say "I will cut your young head off," he said nothing whatever to the prisoner—when Smart made his exit from the door he commenced walking slowly across the road; he walked perfectly straight towards his home, and the potman went behind him—Smart did not wait on the door step and use bad language, he had just stepped off the kerb when the potman came out and pushed him—I have not often been in the neighbourhood of public-houses at night—Smart was not drunk, and he was already out of the house—no blow was used, he was merely pushed with the fist—the road is out of repair, but it is level for 20 yards from the house—after the prisoner pushed him Smart said "Will you leave me alone," and he pushed him down again—Smart used no bad language—there are gas lamps in the street—the second push was 20 yards from the Anglesea—there was a light at the Anglesea and at the grocer's shop—I did not run after them, of course I walked on with my friend—I was about 10 yards from him the third time he fell—I had walked quick—it was not quite dark where I got to—it was not a dismal-looking night—I had not got up to the rough ground—it was rough at the corner, but not where the poor man was knocked down—the third time he knocked him down with a push, I was not near enough to see if there were any blows—I still say that Smart was not tipsy, he had had a little beer.
Re-examined. He was able to walk steadily—he walked 20 yards from the public-house. '
ELLEN WILSON . I am single, and live at 21, Nasmith Street—I was with the last witness near the Anglesea, and saw an old gentleman pushed out; I did not see who by, but the potman came out directly afterwards, when he had walked as far as the kerb, and knocked him down in the road with his fist—he struck him on the side of the head—I saw the blow light on his head, and his hat fell off into the road—the old man got up and said "Will you leave me alone, I am going home"—he walked about 10 yards, and the prisoner went after him and knocked him down again with his fist, but I did not see where he struck him that time; he got up again—he said nothing, but was going away, and when he had gone about two steps the prisoner knocked him down again, and he said "You have broken my leg"—I ran up to him, and he said "My leg is broken, do fetch some one"—the prisoner ran away—I saw Mr. Tailbee there; he said "That's right, give it to him," three times, and I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself—he told me to go home and mind our own business—I first saw Mr. Tailbee when the deceased was knocked down the second time; he was standing at the door with his sister and a man—he was not there the first time the man was knocked down.
Cross-examined. The blows were struck with his fist—I do not say that they were as hard as he could strike, but it could not be mistaken for a push—I was with Mrs. Hooley, but was closer than she was; I was 2 or 3 yards from her, and saw the blows more distinctly than she did, because I saw him use his fist—I heard her give her evidence, but I did not notice what she said; I was not listening, I was talking—I am not saying what she said, I am saying what I saw—the deceased was not the worse for drink, but he may have had a little beer; he could walk straight—he did not try to force his way into the house after he was pushed out—I was standing next door when he was pushed out—I do not know what happened inside, or whether he had been pushed out before that—he did not say to the prisoner in ray presence
"I will cut your b----young head off"—there was a rut in the road, but that was further up; this was a very level piece of ground—I did not hear him say "Oh, my God! I have hurt myself"—he said "You have broken my leg," and the prisoner ran away—I cannot account for his leg being broken—I will swear that the prisoner was not 4 or 5 yards from him when he fell—half a tumbler of brandy was brought out for him, but he was not allowed to drink it; it was sent over by a man from the public-house—I did not tell any one of this till I saw deceased's son at the Inquest, but I had given my address, and he asked me what I saw—Tailbee is not a friend of mine—I have seen him two or three times, but I don't make use of these houses.
Re-examined. I have no spite against the prisoner—I gave my address on night of the assault—I was examined on the Inquest.
WILLIAM SMART (City Detective). The deceased was my father—he was fifty-four years old—on 26th January I saw him in the West London Hospital—I took the prisoner there and asked my father how it happened—he said "That young man knocked me down"—I said "When?"—he said "Last night"—the prisoner said that he did not mean to do it—my father said "This is through your taking advantage of me and pushing me in the way you did, I have met with this accident"—the prisoner said that he did not mean to do it—my father told the prisoner that if he had not pushed him down he would not be where he was, and asked him who it was that holloaed out "Give it to him"—I received a telegram next morning from the police authorises at Hammersmith.
THOMAS GUNTON ALDERTON . I am house-surgeon at West London Hospital—on 23rd January the deceased "was brought in between 11 and 12 o'clock; he smelt strongly of drink, but he was not intoxicated—he was suffering from a severe compound fracture of the left lower leg, which might occur anyhow if he was pushed down, even without any inequality in the surface of the road; the bone breaks, and the man tries to save himself from falling, and the lower portion of the bone presses against the. ground and forces the upper portion through the skin—the blow need not necessarily have been violent—he died on 17th February from exhaustion, which was the result of inflammation which had set in.
Cross-examined. A mere push might break his leg if he fell; if he caught his foot in a rut, and it twisted, he might break his leg in that way.
JOHN PAISH (Policeman T 231). I saw Smart lying on the ground, and two or three people taking care of him—neither the prisoner nor Mr. Tailbee were there—I took him to the hospital; he smelt of drink, but he spoke very sensibly—the road is a little soft there, but no part of it is dangerous.
Cross-examined. There are no ruts where he went across—I did not see him go across.
By THE COURT. The place where he was lying was on the opposite side to the Anglesea, and about 20 yards up the road in front of a broker's shop—there is no pathway, he was lying on the side of the road—the road is not hard and rutty between the. Anglesea, and where he was lying, it was soft—it was level where he was, but if you go further from the Angle-sea, you come to a bad road—the road is not paved—it is no road at all, some people say—it is a thoroughfare.
Witnesses for the Defence.
was the worse for liquor—I knew him before—I refused to serve him and I told my sister so—I said "Mr. Smart you have had quite enough, and you had better go home"—he tried to enter the tap-room, and I put my back to the door to keep him out, but a man wanted to go in, and then Smart forced himself in and I told the men in the tap-room not to let him have any of their beer—he appeared to lose his temper and said that he would never come into the house any more—some little time after that he went out—the prisoner who is my pot-boy went out to go home—it was his time to go home—when Smart got out he said that he would cut the prisoners b----young head off and ran at him, and the boy ran across the road, and tried to dodge away from him, and Smart fell and said "Oh my God I have hurt myself"—I could not see what he caught his foot in—this was at 10 o'clock at night—I did not call out "Give it to him"—I had no ill-feeling towards him—my sister was behind the bar, and Albert Hart was behind me at the door—after Smart fell I went inside, and about quarter of an hour afterwards I heard that he had broken his leg—my sister sent out some brandy to him—the prisoner was not taken in custody till after the Inquest—he has been about six months in my employ, and I always found him a respectable well behaved boy.
Cross-examined by MR. DOUGLAS. He was no longer any trouble to me after he left the house—the prisoner was outside the house when Smart went out—he had been outside about two minutes—when Smart went out I followed him and stood at the door—Smart had been using bad language in the house, and then he said that he would cut the prisoner's b----young head off—he did not try to strike him, but he ran after him—I never said "That serves him right"—Smart only fell once; I swear that—he was lying near a broker's shop—he said "Oh my God I have hurt myself"—I did not know that his leg was broken till a quarter of an hour afterwards—I did not see him get up—I did not go to him—I went into my house not thinking he was hurt—when his leg was broken I went to the door again and saw a crowd—I said "It is no business of mine and went indoors.
EMILY TAILBEE . I am barmaid to my brother—Smart came in intoxicated and my brother requested me to refuse to serve him, which I did—he wanted to go into the tap-room, my brother went to the door, but he got in, and after that he went outside—I did not see what happened outside.
ALBERT HART . I live at 3, Hope Cottages, Albert Road—I was in the Anglesea, on 25th January, and saw Smart there—he called for some beer and the landlord refused to serve him—he came into the tap-room—after he went out I was standing at the door with the landlord—the boy was there laughing at him, and he was dodging the boy about the road—he said "If I can catch you you young b----, I will cut your b----head off"—I saw him fall—the boy did not strike or push him.'
Cross-examined. I went to the door when I heard the man swearing outside—he and the prisoner were both outside then—I only saw Smart go down once, that was 24 yards from the public-house—I have measured it—he did not get up till he was carried away, but I went to him—I went to the door immediately after he went out, and I swear that he did not go down three times—a man from a coffee-shop close by came out, and it being damp we got some matting and laid it on the ground under Smart—he said "George I feel faint," and I went and got him some brandy and water at the Anglesea, and gave it to him—Miss Tailbee gave it to me—I knew then that his leg was broken.
BENJAMIN BUSH . I am an army contractor, and live at Jersey Cottage, Barnes—I have known this spot by the Anglesea for thirty-nine years—it is not a main road, and it has never been taken to by the parish—it was a pond originally, and rubbish has been thrown, in, but it never has been formed into a road, and it is in a rough state.
The Prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, April 7th, 1875.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MOODY Defended
ROBERT OUTRAM (City Detective). On the 4th March, from information I received, I went to Foster's Parcels Delivery Office, Bennett's Hill, Doctors' Commons, accompanied by Mitchell, another officer, and there saw the two prisoners—we told them we were police officers, and mentioned to them the fact of a case of umbrellas sent to Ipswich having been broken open—I asked the two prisoners if they knew anything about a case being broken open in the basement and three umbrellas abstracted—they said they knew nothing about it—I said "It is very clear that this case was broken open in the basement," and asked Joyce first if he had anything about him which did not belong to him—he said "No"—I then searched him, and in his coat breast pocket I found these three white silk handkerchiefs (produced)—I asked "How do you account for these?"—he said "I had them from Fowler," referring to another porter who was present—he' said "Sexton had them first"—I then took Joyce to Fleet Street Police Station and searched him there, when I found a key upon him—he took it out of his pocket—on the way to the station he said "I will tell you the truth; you will find one of the umbrellas at home"—he gave me his address, No. 2, Scarsdale Road, Camberwell—he also said "Those white handkerchiefs we took out of a parcel the other day"—when I got to his residence I opened the door with the key I obtained from him—I found a green box in which I found two other white handkerchiefs similar to the three I found upon him, and thirty-five pieces of skin, some of sable—then there was a small box with six scarfs in it, and another box with six scarfs and three pairs of ladies' kid gloves, another box with eight silk scarfs, three cambric handkerchiefs, a pair of braces, a piece of velvet, twenty-nine linen collars, twenty-eight valentines, a lady's companion; and the umbrella I found in the room—I took all these things back to the Fleet Strett Station—I showed them to Joyce—he picked out several of the boxes—this is one (produced), containing six scarfs—he said "I took them"—that is this box, also a small box with these three pairs of ladies' kid gloves—he picked out several other things, the valentines—this umbrella he told me was at the house—there is a ring on it—that is all with reference to Joyce—when I went to Foster's place I said to Sexton "Have you any objection to your place being searched?"—he said no, he had not, and Mitchell and Sexton went on to his place—Mitchell found these two handkerchiefs (produced), but I spoke to the prisoner respecting them—I said "What have you got to say to this, Sexton?"—he said "What can I say? It is a bad job"—I looked in the clock in the bed-room on the mantel-shelf, a
case clock with a little door opening in front—in the bottom of the clock I found this ring (produced)—I said "How do you account for this ring Sexton? It looks as if it was off one of the missing umbrellas"—he said "Joyce gave it to me"—we then took him to the Fleet Street Station and charged him.
Joyce. I told you, didn't I, that I took those gloves? Witness. Yes—I marked on it at the time "I took them"—that was this particular box containing a scented bag.
Joyce. That skin was not found in my box—it belongs to my mother—it is little bits of trimmings of skin.
Cross-examined. Sexton said he had no objection to his room being searched. He and Mitchell went straight away to the place. I searched. him at Foster & Co.'s, and found nothing on him relating to this charge—Joyce may be a little deaf, but it is nothing noticeable—I certainly have said before to-day that the case was broken open on the basement—I cannot say that I noticed that fact did not appear in the depositions—I mentioned to the Magistrate that I spoke to Sexton about the metal ring—I have spoken of his having made use of the expression "It is a bad job"—that about the ring appears further on in the depositions—[A portion of the depositions was here read, which did not contain the observation "It is a bad job"]—I am certain I mentioned it before the Magistrate—every word does not appear in the depositions, I have been in the same difficulty before—Sexton has been in the service about eighteen months I believe—Mitchell searched Sexton's house more than I did—we found the ring and brought it away.
WILLIAM MITCHELL (City Detective). On the afternoon of the 4th March I went with Outram to Foster's Parcel Delivery Company, Bennett's Hill—Outram was spokesman—I after that went alone with Sexton to his lodging—I asked him if he had any objection to have his place searched—he said "No"—we then went into the back room and in a drawer I found four pairs of socks—I asked him how he accounted for them—he said "I bought them"—I said "Where"—he said "I don't know"—in the same drawer I found these kid gloves—I asked him how he accounted for them—he made no answer—in the same drawer I found this bit of wire, and there was a Cardigan jacket—I then said "Have you anything else?"—he said "No"—I said "Where is your bed-room?"—he said "I cannot get in there because I have not the key, you must wait till my father comes home, he will be here in a few minutes"—his father came up but did not know where the key was—the prisoner then volunteered to get through the window of the bed-room by the landing and open the door—I said "Do so"—as soon as he got in he shut the window—I listened and heard the sound of a lock and key and I then got in through the same window and found him concealing something under the bed-clothing—he had not unlocked the door—I said "What are you doing?"—he made no answer—I then turned the bed clothing down and I found those two silk handkerchiefs (produced)—I said "How do you account for those, Sexton?"—he said "It is no good, it is a bad job"—that piece of wire looks to me as if it had been used for opening locks.
Cross-examined. That is what I call a pick-lock—I should not be surprised to hear that it was a sugar-crusher with the bottom knocked off because it has been undoubtedly—I should not be surprised to hear that it had been in the possession of the family for many years—I found it in the drawer in the back bed-room—not in the prisoner's room but one used by some
other member of the family—his father I believe—finding it under these circumstances I still came to the conclusion that it was a pick-lock.
RICHARD CRAWLEY . I am Inspector of Police employed by the Great Eastern Railway Company at Ipswich Depot—on the 3rd March I received this box (produced) from Lewis Brothers, of Ipswich, the Consignees, and I found in it the smaller half of a brickbat—in consequence of this, and instructions I received, I went up to London to Foster's Parcels Delivery Company at Bennett's Hill—I received the box in the state I produce it now—this brickbat was at this end—this is waste paper and there is stable dirt or sweepings at the other end—I found at Foster's Parcels Delivery Company the other half of the brickbat, the big half—I then communicated with the police, and Outram and Mitchell were called in—I went to both the prisoner's lodgings, accompanying the officers in their search, and saw them find the goods produced here to-day—I found the larger half of the brickbat under an archway on Foster's premises, in what is known as the "despatch room" where the goods are despatched.
CHABLES GARNHAM . I am employed by Dent, Allcroft & Co., of Wood Street—on the 1st March, I packed three umbrellas, which I sent off on the 2nd—this umbrella looks like one of them—I pack a great many for the firm—I secured the case produced—it is labelled "Lewis Brothers"—a card is tacked on it, and it is nailed at both ends, and that is the card.
Cross-examined. The umbrellas that I pack are not made in our establishment, but are supplied to us by some wholesale manufacturers—I believe they supply other firms who have dealings with them.
Re-examined. That ring is similar to those we have on our umbrellas—one of the three umbrellas I packed was a special umbrella in a long paper box—a "glass "label is put on the box, because the umbrellas have delicate handles—I should say I have packed umbrellas before with similar rings to this one, but I cannot say.,
By MR. MOODY. The two umbrellas I packed were similar to the one produced; that has a white ring upon it, and the other might have had a white ring too—that is a particularly plain ring, and the other appears to be worked into something the shape of a serpent, and is a different colour—the third umbrella I never saw.
By MR. GRAIN. The third umbrella was specially packed up—tortoise-shell handles, and so on, are generally packed separate.
HENRY KEEPING . I am employed by Dent, Allcroft & Co., and on the 2nd March I remember delivering the box before me to Foster's Parcels Delivery Company—I received it tied up and nailed down properly, and delivered it to them in the same state I found it.
Cross-examined. I observed that it was a large box, nothing more—I keep a book—I took the box at between 3.30 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon.
JOHN ONION . I am in the employ of Messrs. Lewis Brothers, of Ipswich—on the 3rd March the case before me was received by my firm—I opened it two minutes after delivery, and found the smaller half of the brickbat in it, with the paper as it is now—I understood from Messrs. Lewis that three umbrellas ought to have been in it.
Re-examined. I do not know anything of the three umbrellas I expected to find—Mr. Lewis bought them himself on the 2nd March.
the 4th March I packed up some handkerchiefs in a box to be seat to Kidd & Co., "of Hull—I packed ten; these produced are exactly similar to the ones I packed—it was a blue card-board box with a piece of string tied round the centre—I did not address it.
Cross-examined. I have not sold more than a dozen boxes of handkerchiefs similar to these, ten in a box—we are supplied by the manufacturers.
STEPHEN GROUNDS . I am a packer in the employ of Foster Brothers & Co., Limited—on the 4th March I received a box from the silk department, which I packed in brown paper; brown paper over the card-board—it was for Kidd & Co., of Hull—I knew it contained silk handkerchiefs from the silk department by the shape and colour of the box.
Cross-examined. I cannot tell whether they were black silk handkerchiefs or cambric handkerchiefs—it was simply a box for packing handkerchiefs of whatever description they might be.
GEORGE MILLS . I am in the employ of Foster's Parcels Delivery Company—on the 4th March I received a parcel addressed to Kidd & Co., of Hull—I put it behind me on the floor—it was in good condition when I received it—it was a paper parcel.
Prisoner Joyce. What time did you receive that parcel? Witness. I cannot say; it might be in the morning or the afternoon.
Joyce's Defence. The principal of the property found on me was given to me by a porter named Fowler, and I took it and went away; there are several others employed there; there was an assistant clerk there the same day I was taken into custody; there was a heap of parcels there, and I saw him standing with his back to the stairs; I said "Holloa, Corbett! what are you doing there?" he was tying up a parcel; it was going to Exeter; that would be one of the parcels; he threw it down; I picked up the string and I said "Look here, Fowler!" and opened it before Fowler, it contained light gloves done up in sections of two, and there was a pair missing out of that parcel, so I took it up and put it down again.
Joyce. Corbett went upstairs laughing, and he came down again and went up again; he had a parcel in his pocket, I noticed it by the red seal; I shouted out to Corbett and said "Corbett, what is that you have got in your pocket V He threw it down. This was a small parcel going to Gloucester; that would be one of mine, so I said "You have got pretty cheek, if anything is the matter I shall get the blame of it;" so I put it down again and went to get the labels to label my own parcels; I then returned, and while I was labelling them I said "Holloa! Fowler, that parcel is gone." I turned over the rest of the parcels and I said "It isn't here;" so I ran upstairs, just as I got upstairs, he was turning back again with the parcel and he said "I thought there was sixpence out on that one"—I know what that parcel is;" I said "Do you? whether you know what it is or not, you leave my things alone;" the seal was broken; the principal of those goods was given to me by Fowler; I know nothing about the two umbrellas; I never got back till 5 or 6 minutes to 4 o'clock, and then all the goods were sorted, because 1 lived at the West End and went to my dinner and walked back again. There were two or three porters in the way. That umbrella was under the. stairs.
FOSTER MACGRAGH . I am the managing director of Foster's Delivery Company—I received this certificate (produced) from the office in Sergeant's Inn—I paid the fees myself and received that as the Registration certificate.
Cross-examined. I received it at the office itself—it was not sent to me.
Witness for Sexton.
EDWARD SEXTON . I live in Great Bond Court, Walbrook, and am the father of the prisoner Sexton—I have never known his character to be in any way impeached prior to this—he went into the service' of the company in January, 1873—I know this wire article, I have used it as a sugar crusher for many years—it was found in a drawer in my bedroom.
SEXTON and JOYCE GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, April 7th, 1875.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MILLWOOD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM BUCKLEY . I am a seaman belonging to the "Elizabeth Ray" lying of Rotherhithe—about 5 o'clock on the afternoon of 31st March I was in Upper East Smithfield—I went into a public-house where I met the prisoner—I had nearly 3l. in my pocket then, all silver, but a half-sovereign and 3d. in coppers—I left the public-house and the prisoner followed me out—I went into a watering-place, and as I was coming out the prisoner caught me by the throat and another man put his hand in my pocket and took all my money except 10s. in gold, a sixpence and 3d. coppers—I caught hold of the prisoner by the arm—he was too heavy for me, and he threw me down and ran away—I ran after him and kept him in sight till I got a constable who caught him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not counting my money in the urinal—a young man did not come in first—you came in first.
By THE COURT. I did not know the prisoner before—he asked me for a drink in the public-house—I called for a pint of beer for him and he had three while he was there, and I walked out—I paid for it—he must have been that I had money.
RICHARD COWLAND . I am a warehouseman, and live at 5, Garthorne Street, Bow—on the afternoon, 31st March I had occasion to go into the urinal, and while I was there I saw the prisoner and a man not in custody leave with the prosecutor—they appeared to be asking him for something to drink—the prosecutor put his hand in his pocket and while he was doing so the prisoner seized him by the throat and held him backwards while the other man took the money from his pocket—I saw the money in his hand—
they ran away—I gave chase and pointed the prisoner out to a constable, who captured him—I pursued the other man for half a mile, but I lost him.
JOHN WHATMORE (Policeman H R 8). I heard a cry of "Stop thief," and saw the prisoner running and other persons—Cowland came up and told me he had robbed a sailor—I gave chase and caught the prisoner—I asked him what he was running for; he said he was running after a man who had robbed a sailor—I told him to stop—he stopped till the prosecutor came up and gave him into custody—there was no one running in front of the prisoner—I caught him before he had stopped quite; he was inclined to stop.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in May, 1867**— Seven Years Penal Servitude . The prisoner was proved to have been twenty times in custody.
ELIZABETH FITZGERALD . I live at 28, Draper's Place, St. Pancras, and am a laundress—on 20th March, I was in the Kentish Arms, from 11 till 12 o'clock at night, with Elizabeth Tomlinson, and my cousin, who was rather the worse for liquor—I was not, and Tomlinson did not appear to be—the prisoner came in about half an hour after we were there—he threw some whisky and water over my cousin—nothing had happened before that—he was pushed by some of his companions who were with him—I asked him what he did it for and he told me he would do me the same—he went to the bar and got a glass and threw it over my cousin—I asked him again what he did it for, and he said he would serve me the b----same—I told him he should not, he dared not do it, and he said he would show me if he dare not, and he hit me then with his fist—he threw a glass over me before he hit me—I picked up a pint pot and told him I would hit him if he hit me again—the hit me again and I caught him by the scarf—I held him and the barman came to put us out—several of his companions were trying to get me away from him—he told me to leave go of his scarf, and I said I should not—he had no sooner said "Leave go," than I was laid down at his feet bleeding—I know no more till I got up—I saw his hand coming towards me and the wound was on my right breast—I did not see his hand strike me on the breast—I put my hand up to protect my face as I thought from the blow, and he cut both fingers with the knife.
ELIZABETH TOMLINSON . I am the wife of William Tomlinson, a labourer—I was in the Kentish Arras, with Fitzgerald—I saw the prisoner come in and heard him call for some whiskey—he flung it over Fitzgerald's cousin—I did not see her do anything to provoke him—the prosecutrix asked him why he did it, and the prisoner said he would serve her the b----same—he got a glass of cold water and he did the same with her—she asked him what he did it for the second time, and he said he would serve her the same—she said "I daresay you will"—he. turned round and struck her in the face—I happened to turn away at that time, and when I looked again I saw her in a pool of blood—I had hardly turned away a minute.
TIMOTHY CONNOR . I am a painter—about 12 o'clock on the night of 20th March, I was passing the Kentish Arms, and saw the prisoner and another chap—shortly afterwards I saw the woman brought out—as the
prisoner was coming out he said he would serve all the bleeding lot of them the same—I followed the prisoner; I lost sight of him for some little time and caught him again in the Euston Road—he slipped both his coats from me and got away when I attempted to seize him—I afterwards saw him at the police-station in custody.
HENRY WOOLLEY (Detective Officer E). About 1.45, on Sunday morning, 21st March, I went to a lodging house at 205, Pentonville Road, and found the prisoner there—he was in bed asleep—he had his trowsers on at the time—I woke him, up, and told him that I was going to take him into custody for stabbing Elizabeth Fitzgerald in the Kentish Arms at 11 o'clock that night—he paused a considerable time, and said "I went into the Kentish Arms about 10.15, but I don't remember anything since"—he was recovering from the effects of drink—I took him to the station—I went back again, and went up to a water closet there and found this knife in the soil—it was closed—it had been thrown down—there were no marks of blood—I was unable to trace any—I have since cleaned it.
STEPHEN LEGGETT . I am deputy at the lodging-house, 205, Peatonville Road—on Saturday night, 20th March, I was in the kitchen about 12.40, and was told the prisoner was in the closet—I saw him coming out—I went in about an hour afterwards with the constable and found the knife—I don't know to whom it belonged.
JAMES HOOK . I am barman at the Kentish Arms—I was trying to get the people out of the house at 12 o'clock—this disturbance began by the prisoner throwing a glass of whiskey and water in the prosecutrix's cousin's face—the prosecutrix took it up,' there was a struggle, and I tried to get them out—I saw the prosecutrix bleeding, but I did not see how it happened—I did not see any blow struck nor any knife—she was struggling with the prisoner, and I was trying to get them out, it being nearly closing time.
By the Prisoner. I did not hand a glass of cold water to you—I was not behind the bar at all, I was in front trying to get you out.
MARK TRAILL . I am house-surgeon at the University Hospital—the prosecutrix was brought there and I treated her—she was suffering from an incised wound on the right breast and two cut fingers—it was such a wound as might have been caused by this knife—it was about an inch long—she has not attended at the hospital regularly, and I don't know the state of the wound now—it was not actually dangerous in itself.
Prisoner's Defence. I went into the Kentish Arms by myself—the prosecutrix fell up against me and struck me in the face, and I threw the whiskey at her, as to stabbing her I know nothing about it—as the barman said "All out" I went to the fish shop—I never had the knife, and never saw it at all.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution: MESSRS. BESLEY and POYNTER
defended Harris, and MR. AUSTIN METCALFE defended Hartmann.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
JOHN HONCK . I am a cattle salesman, and live at Stonebridge House, Tottenham—there is a house next door which is also my property—it was empty in the early part of February, and had been empty for some time—it was locked up and the shutters fastened—on the evening of the 3rd February, when I returned home from the city, my servants told me they suspected there had been thieves—my gardener, Warner, went into the house, I did not go myself—I was getting up about 6.45 on the morning of the 4th, when my partner, who stays with me, said something to me, and I looked out of the window and saw three men coming into the garden next door—I hurriedly dressed myself and went out, taking a revolver with me—I went to the next house, and just outside the door I found a costermonger's truck with some sacking on it—I drew that out in the front court, and went out into the road to look for a policeman—I could not see one, but George Wake, a gardener of a friend of mine, came along, and he came and assisted me—we went to the house, and by that time Warner, my own gardener, had come—we went to the back of the house—my gardener heard something and rushed to the front, and then I heard a noise, so I ran round to the front, and then I saw the prisoner Martin run across the road, and by the side of the road—I have no doubt at all about his identity—I said "Stay, or I shall shoot you"—he said "Shoot!" and he kept on running away—I did not shoot—my gardener followed him up, and I did not see any more of him till he was in custody—I went into the house and found that the copper had been taken from the scullery, several of the gas fittings were cut, and the lead removed from the top of the house, all ready for removal—it was about 9 o'clock when I went into the house on the morning of the 4th—I had not been in for a week before that, but my gardener had looked after it—I did not see the other prisoner at all, only coming into the gate—I believe he was one of the three that came into the gate.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner Martin. I did not see a walking stick thrown at you when you crossed the road—I was at the back of the premises when you came out of the house—I did not see you try to wound any of the persons who came to my assistance—I believe there were three persons entered my premises on the 4th, if I can believe my own eyes—I don't think I have any doubt about it.
GEORGE WARNER . I am gardener to Mr. Honck, and live at Stonebridge House, Tottenham—I went into this house on the evening of the 3rd February—I saw that the house had been broken into, and the copper was removed from the kitchen—I went to the top of the house and found the trap door leading to the roof broken, and lead had been stripped off the roof—I took away the ladder that led up to the roof, and brought it away with me—I went then and gave information to the police—on the early morning of the 4th I went round to the house and saw my master there about a few minutes to 7 o'clock—I went to the back and found they had got in a window there—I then went round to the front and saw the two prisoners coming out of the area—I have not the slightest doubt about them—I called out "Here they are "to my master, and they both came down with their hands clenched in a fighting attitude, and said "I am ready for you"—Martin had something in his hand, but I can't say what it was—I can't say that Coaffee had anything—I made a catch at them, and I missed
my hold—Coaffee went over a brick wall, and I missed him; I turned after Martin then—he ran away and I followed him—he went through a brook twice and me after him—I saw him throw something into the brook, but what it was I can't swear—there was 2 or 3 feet of mud at the bottom—he turned round several times and shook a stick at me, and said "You b----if you come near me"—ultimately he got into a coal siding belonging to Messrs. Lea & Co., and I called for help there—he had got a stick in his hand, which he would not throw away until a man came up with a dog and threatened to set the dog at him if he did not, and then we apprehended him—he said he would go with me—I said "No, I shall call on these other three men to go with me"—they got him to the station house—I had seen the house all safe, and the things in the right place on the Saturday before Thursday the 4th—I found that a gas fitting had been removed on the 4th which had not been removed on the 3rd—I saw that up myself on the night of the 3rd in the front room.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. On the 4th I found it on the floor—in the same room—it was cut off the leaden pipe and laid in the room—it was about 7.45 on the evening of the 3rd when I examined the house, and I suppose it was nearly 10 o'clock before I left the house—I am quite sure that was safe on its socket in the wall when I left.
GEORGE WAKE . I am a gardener, and live at High Cross Lane, Tottenham—on the morning of 4th February, I was going to my work about 7 o'clock—when I got to Mr. Honck's house I saw him standing in the gateway—he spoke to me and I went towards the house with him, and Mr. Honck's own gardener came there, and in consequence of what he said I went to the front and saw the two prisoners jump out of the area, they came towards us with their hands up in a menacing attitude, and said "We are ready for you"—I closed with them—Martin said "I will do for you," and he made a stab at me—I put up my hand to guard my breast and the knife went through my hand.
WILLIAM TYLER (Detective). I am stationed at Tottenham—I apprehended Martin, on the 4th February—he said he had been in the house, that was all—I went and examined the premises the same day—there were marks of a jemmy on the watercloset window, but they could not force the window by mean of the jemmy, but they broke a pane of glass and forced back the bolt and got in that way—I found this gas burner in the upstairs bedroom broken off.
GEORGE WARNER (re-called). The copper and lead was all ready to be removed on the night of the 3rd—the lead was taken from the house and laid on the roof—I found it in exactly the same state on the 4th—they could not get up to it because I took the ladder away.
They also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted; COAFFEE, in March, 1867, and MARTIN, in November, 1868, in the name of Nathaniel Biggins.
MR. GOODMAN for the Prosecution offered no evidence against Coaffee.
NOT GUILTY .
hands raised in a menacing attitude—I closed closer with him and I saw he had a knife or a dagger in his hand—he stabbed at me, and said "I will do for you"—I saw the knife coming towards my breast—he struck at my breast—I put up my hand and the knife penetrated right through—I have not been able to do any work since.
Martin's Defence. It is very hard to have a crime imputed to you that you are innocent of; the wound I am innocent of, the Jury were right bringing me in guilty for the other indictment, but if I was hung now I am not guilty of this.
GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. COAFFEE— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
THE COURT ordered rewards of 5l. to Wake, and 1l. to Warner.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 8th, 1875.
Before Mr. Justice Brett.
274. WILLIAM TUBBS, ALFRED SLATER, WILLIAM TAYLOR, WILLIAM ROSS, THOMAS LEONARD, WILLIAM WOODYEAR and ALFRED GEORGE FINCHAM , were indicted for feloniously killing and slaying Augustus Alfred Dulgar. All the prisoners except Taylor,
PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution,
JOHN CROOK (Police Inspector E). On 8th February I took Taylor into custody at the York public-house, Duncan Street, Islington—he is a cab-driver—I told him I should take him into custody for aiding and abetting in a prize fight at Hackney Marshes on Monday the 1st instant, which had resulted in the death of Augustus Alfred Dulgar—he said "I was not there"—I said No, I did not charge him with being there, I charged him with aiding and abetting by holding the stakes for the challenge, and paying the money over to the man Tubbs after the fight—he said "Where is your warrant?"—I told him that I did not require a warrant—he said "I will go"—I took him to the station and he was charged—I then told him that I must search him for the challenge or the paper he had received—he said "It is no use searching I have burnt it," or "it is burnt," "I received the money innocently enough, we did not think it would come to such an end"—Thacker who "was present said that he had burnt the challenge in lighting a candle—Taylor did not say who sent the challenge.
WILLIAM THACKER . I am a cab-driver, and live at 43, Warden Street, Clerkenwell—I know Taylor—I was not present at the fight—some time before the fight I was at the York public-house—Taylor was there, a letter was read; Taylor read it out; it was an apology that the deceased could not come as he had promised, but he had sent 5s. to put down against Tubbs' 5s.—it also said something about eight men on each side being enough to go—I did not see that the letter was addressed to Taylor—I heard that they were going to fight, I believe it was on Monday, 1st February, I was at the York in the early part of that afternoon, when the deceased and Tubbs came there together in a cab with a man they call "the coachman," and Floyd—Tubbs, and the deceased appeared to have been fighting—they were both very much injured; they were taken into the York; Taylor was with me when they came—I asked Tubbs who had won the fight, he said he had, but he had got punished for it—he asked Taylor for the money, I think it was 2l. altogether, I did not hear any sum mentioned—Taylor asked Bill
the coachman if it was right, I did not hear him answer, but I believe he said "Yes"—I heard it was paid over after—I did not see Taylor do anything—I heard that the money was paid over—I could not say whether Taylor told me so himself or not, or what it was said in his presence.
WALTER BARFIELD . I was present at the fight on 1st February between Tubbs and Dulgar—after it was over Dulgar was assisted to a Hansom cab—he and Tubbs and Floyd and Bowker all four got into the cab and drove off, both the men were very weak indeed and very bad at the end of the fight—I don't know how long the fight lasted—I was there fifty minutes, and they had been fighting half an hour I was told when I got there—they were pretty strong when I got there—I went that same night to Dulgar's house and was present at his death, I should think that was nearly 10 o'clock—during the fight I heard one or two of the prisoners ask Dulgar to leave off—he refused to do so, he determined to fight, he would not take any notice of their wishes—I heard them ask him to leave off some five or six rounds before the end of the fight—if he had left off when he was first told I certainly think he would have lived.
MAURICE CLIFFORD ESTELL . I am a surgeon of 111, Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury—on 1st February, about 6.15, I was sent for to see Dulgar, in Little Russell Street, his father's house—he was in bed on the first floor—he was insensible, his face was very much swollen, more especially on the left side, blood was issuing from his nose and mouth, and his eyelids were both swollen up, his arms were bruised, and his neck scratched; he was suffering from injuries, and from concussion of the brain—he died the same night—I made a post-mortem examination two days afterwards—I found that his nose was broken, his teeth broken, his lips torn, and bruised all over the chest—the "cause of death was concussion produced by the general injuries he had received and the shaking—he had fought too long, that was what killed him—the concussion might have been caused by blows with the fist; the injuries were quite recent.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "The letter, which is supposed to have contained the challenge for the fight, was not really a challenge at all, it was an apology from Dulgar for not being able to keep the appointment that I believe he had made to meet at the York public-house the same night he had sent the letter. The appointment was not made with me. I believe they had had a quarrel a week or two previous to the fight, but I was not there; I believe that was when the first arrangement was made to fight for money. I believe Dulgar gave Leonard 5s. deposit to bind the match, and the letter likewise. I received the money from Leonard, but not the letter; that was the night after it was sent. I heard there was a letter sent to me, and I went there to demand it, and I had the letter and the money given into my hands. I had nothing to do with the fight or the arrangement of it I kept the letter some time,"' but it was burnt to light the gas. I never attached any value to it"
Prisoner's Defence. I have only to say simply what I have said. I got into it innocently enough. I did not know when the fight was going to take place. I was not aware that it was going to take place on the Monday. The letter said it was to take place in a few days, but it went on two or three weeks after that. When they came home Tubbs asked me for the money. I asked the coachman if it was right I was to pay the money, he said yes, and I paid it.
In opening the case, Mr. Poland stated that as Taylor was not present at
the fight he could only proceed against him as an accessary before the fact; it was clear that he knew that a fight was about to take place, and that being an unlawful act, and one that might, as it did, end in death, he contended that a conviction as accessary could be maintained. MR. JUSTICE BREIT, after con-suiting MR. BARON CLEASBY, and hearing the evidence, expressed considerable doubt whether the mere holding the stakes and handing them over to the winner was sufficient in point of law to make him an accessary to the crime of manslaughter, but as it was a matter of doubt he would direct the Jury to that effect, and reserve the case for the Court of Appeal for Crown cases reserved.
TAYLOR— GUILTY — Judgment reserved. TUBBS, SLATER, and WOODYEAR— One Week's Imprisonment. ROSS and LEONARD— Three Days' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 8th, 1875.
Before Mr. Baron Cleasby.
MR. GILL conducted the Prosecution.
ANN STEPHENS . I am the wife of George Stephens, but I lived with the prisoner two years before this took place—on 23rd October, at 10 p.m. I was coming from King's Cross, along St. Pancras Road, past the Great Northern Hotel—I did not meet any one there—I turned to the right and went back as far as the gates leading to the Great Northern line, and the prisoner came across the road to me and said "What! are you waiting for him?" or "Who are you waiting for?"—I said "What do you mean?"—he said "You know what I mean, I have no doubt it is some one you have been out with many times while you lived with me"—I said "I don't know what you mean"—he said "Did you not see me standing against the policeman's box?"—I said "No;"—he said that he was there smoking his pipe when I passed—he then said that he had not had above two or three night's lodging all the week—I said that instead of paying by the night he should pay by the week—he said what was he to do for food—I told him he must be like me, he must do the best he could as he had thrown himself out of food, work, and good lodgings—I then felt him strike me on my left breast, and saw a knife in his hand—I dropped some parcels which were in my hands—I stooped to pick them up, and then he stabbed me very hard on the back of my neck—I felt blood running down my back and screamed "Murder!"—he turned and looked at me and went away, and a lamp-lighter came to me, who fetched a Great Northern constable; I then became insensible, and know no more.
By THE COURT. We had been separate for about three months, and he was in work a month or five weeks after we parted; he is given to drink, and he threw himself out of work—before we parted I had supported him for nine months from the time he left the army—when we separated he was only earning something now and then; it was after we separated that he threw himself out of work—I was in the hospital a month.
RICHARD HAYES . I am a lamp lighter, of 8, Pultney Street, Barnsbury Road—on 23rd October, about 10 o'clock, I heard a cry of "Murder!" near the Great Northern Railway—I turned round, and the prosecutrix came to me and said "I am stabbed"—I said "Who done it?"—she said "George
Wistow"—she fell, and I tried to lift her up, but could not—I got a Great Northern policeman, and we carried her to the second class waiting room—she was insensible; a doctor was sent for, and I saw the wound on her chest, but not the other.
CHARLES MUNTER (Policeman Great Northern Railway). Hayes spoke to me and I found the prosecutrix in a fainting condition—before we could get her into the station she became insensible—a doctor was sent for, who ordered her removal to the hospital.
JOHN TOYNTON . I am a porter, of 32, Railway Terrace, York Road—I have known the prisoner for many years—on the afternoon of 23d October, I was standing against the Victoria public-house eating an apple, and he came up and said "Jack, will you lend me your knife?"—I said "What do you want with it said "To cut my corns"—I said "It is no use for that job"—he took it out of my hand and said "I will sharpen, it, and I will give it you back in the morning;" it was a common pocket knife with one. blade; it was an ordinary blade, about 2 1/2 or 3 inches long—I have never seen it since.
GEORGE HERBERT MOTTI . I am a surgeon of the Royal Free Hospital, Gray's Inn Road—on 23rd October, about 11 p.m., the prosecutrix was brought there in a very excited condition and quite sensible—I mean that she was excited by the shock—she was bleeding a little—she had an incised wound about the breadth of my finger over her breast, going down to the cartilage of the rib, which was hard enough to stop it—it was about an inch deep, because it was partly through the breast—she had another wound at the back of her neck, about two inches deep, slanting inwards to the ribs—the wounds were caused by a knife—no large vessel was cut and there was no great loss of blood—any wounds on the chest are dangerous; it was close over the heart, and we can never tell for a week or two how far the mischief may extend—there might have been pleurisy or the lung might have been wounded—she was in the hospital about a month, till November 21st.
WILLIAM ODELL (Police Inspector Y). I took the prisoner on 7th March, at Chiswick; he had been in prison for three months and only came out on the Saturday—I told him he would be charged with stabbing Ann Stephens with intent to murder her on 23rd October—he said "I am very sorry, but I had been drinking for several days and had not been in no bed; I did not know what I was doing"—I had been searching for him but could not find him, and had been corresponding with the police in the country; it was thought that he was dead.
Prisoner's Defence. I do not remember seeing Ann Stephens that night at all—I had had no work for ten weeks and no food for ten days, and had not been in bed for ten weeks—I used to lay in a van or anywhere I could—some men where I used to work gave me some drink—I never struck her in my life—we had a good many quarrels about her going with the railway porters and guards—She never went home before 11 or 12 o'clock at night and sometimes 3 o'clock in the morning and woke me up—I worked there twelve months—Her husband came and upset us there and she locked me up, and that was our parting, and then I got some drink and lost my work through it.
GUILTY on second count— Seven Years' Penal Servitude
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS ISAAC GODWIN . I live at 109, Mildmay Grove—that is about a mile and a half from Eden Grove, Holloway—I have known the prisoner for five or six years—I have been for twenty years manager at Docwra and Sons, the contractors of Balls Pond—the prisoner was employed there between three and four years at different times put together, and I had an opportunity of seeing him daily—I had discharged him four or five months before 6th March, and had seen him once in the interval, when he came to the office one morning and asked me to employ him—I told him I would not as he was a worthless vagabond, and told him to go about his business—that was before Christmas—I generally take money to pay the men on Saturday mornings, and it is my habit to leave home at 5.15 a.m. punctually—the prisoner knew that when he worked at the firm—he knew the hour of my arrival—I usually left by the area door, but. I have not done so since—there are eight steps up to the house to the front door and three steps down to the area—on 6th March I opened the area door to come out, I closed it after me, and did not notice anyone—at the instant I closed the door this paving stone, which weighs 261bs. (produced), came down from the prisoner's hands from a height of 11 or 12 feet—he was standing at the top of the steps leading to the house—it struck me on my hat and on my shoulder, it bruised my shoulder very much—I thought that part of the portico had fallen down, having no idea that the prisoner was secreted there with this stone—I was greatly alarmed—I found the prisoner on top of me in an instant; he must have jumped down and come down three or four steps on top of me—the stone had brought me to the ground—I knew then that his little game was plunder, as he knew that I had money—I closed with him as well as I could till we got out on the footway—he tried to escape, we had a struggle, and I knocked him down, but he got up instantly—I think I must have held him by his jacket, it was a kind of fustian jacket—he jumped up and ran away—I ran after him shouting "Murder," and he deliberately stopped short, struck me on the shoulder, and knocked me down and kicked me about the body—I was then about 40 yards from my own door—he made a groan when he gave me the last kick, but he did not speak—he got away—the stone does not belong to my house, it was brought there by him—there is a place on Newington Green, which would be on his way, where there are similar stones, and he had a basket which he carried with him large enough to contain this stone—it does not belong to my neighbourhood—I have not the slightest doubt about his being the man, I knew him well.
Prisoner. I have got neither jacket nor basket, these are all the clothes I have—I was in my bed at 10 o'clock that morning.
JAMES GULL (Detective Officer N). On Saturday morning, 6th March, I went to a lodging-house, 1, Eden Grove, Holloway, between 9 and 10 o'clock, with Clark, one of Mr. Docwra's men—I sent Clark into the house to bring the prisoner out—he came to the door, and Clark told me he was the man—I said that I was a detective and should take him for throwing a large bit of stone upon Mr. Godwin's head, at 109, Mildmay Park—he said that he knew nothing at all about it—Mr. Godwin afterwards gave me the stone, it weighs 241bs.—the prisoner was wearing the clothing he has now—the jacket and basket have not been found.
EDWIN SEXTON . I am a night man, at 1, Eden Grove, Holloway, a lodging-house—on Friday, 5th March, the prisoner lodged there—there was a direction on the slate to call him at 4 o'clock on Saturday morning, and I called him at 3.45—(the directions are put on the slate the night before)—I cannot say whether he got up—I called him and saw no more of him till the officer took him—I had seen him sometime before in possession of a fustian jacket, but not lately—I saw a basket in his possession, about a week before, large enough to contain this stone, it had a piece of cord through the handles—I searched for the basket and jacket when he was taken, but could find neither of them.
JAMES ARMSTRONG (Detective Officer N). The prisoner was brought to the station on the 6th, about 10.30 a.m., and while he was sitting on a chair I took his hat off to look at him, and he said "How do you think I shall get I on"—I said "I do not know, I am sure"—he said "Well, I did get up this morning with the intention of going to Billingsgate Market; I came down about 4.30, and considered for three or four minutes whether I would go or not; but I did not, I went back to bed; I had an old jacket, but I had it stolen from me"—I said "Did you make any complaint to the police about losing your coat or jacket T"—he said "No"—nothing had been said about a jacket before he mentioned it to me—he said nothing about a basket.
Prisoner. You never came to me at all when I sat in the chair, what you have been saying is all false; you were in the police-station when I went in, and when I went out Witness. The other officer knows I was there—the inspector will prove it, and the other Detective Gull came in after you had said a portion of it.
Re-examined. The inspector is not here, but Gull was with me. JAMES GULL (re-examined). I was present at the police-station, when this conversation took place—I went into the passage where the prisoner was sitting in a chair, and heard the detective make the remark about the jacket—I had not said anything about a jacket or basket being searched for at the house, but Armstrong was dressed quite differently to what he is now—he had a Mackintosh and a high hat, it was a wet morning.
THE COURT enquired what evidence there was of the prisoner having inflicted grievous bodily harm. MR. BESLEY stated that the prosecutor's shoulder was very much bruised, and that he was struck to the ground. THE COURT did not consider that a bruise was grievous bodily harm, unless it interfered with a person's bodily health and prevented his following his ordinary pursuits, and therefore directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
THE COURT read over to the witnesses their evidence as given in the former case to which they assented upon oath.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not come out of the door that morning; I had been laid up, and I could not get my boot on, I could get no ease and did not get up till 10 or 11 o'clock.
GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, April 8th 1875.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FRITH the Defence.
ISAAC BRINE . I carry on business as a timber merchant at Old Montague Street, Whitechapel—previously to the 11th February I had some small transactions with a person of the name of Chapman—on the 11th February Chapman, in company with prisoner, came to my premises and said he had got a gentleman who would buy some wood and pay me ready money for it—we viewed the goods and decided about the price, and prisoner wished me then to take the number of the goods and send them on that evening—I said that would be impossible—I said I should like to count every veneer and see the number there was on it, and then I could give a guarantee for what I sent away—I went away through the Mill and said "Where shall I send the goods to-morrow?"—he said "Hasn't Chapman given you a card) Pass me a card"—Chapman gave me a card in the prisoner's presence, and away they went to a public-house, and I had a glass of ale with them—this is the card they gave me—this on the back is my own writing—the other is what I wrote on it after—the card is "Hastings, Dale & Co., Shackelwell Lane, Kingsland, dealers in all kinds of timber"—I said before I left him on the 11th "If you will be kind enough to call on me about 11 o'clock tomorrow I will get everything ready so that I can guarantee that everything is what I represent"—on the 12th, at 12 o'clock, the prisoner arrived—Chapman was not there—the prisoner checked the goods with me and I went indoors and made out this invoice to the amount of 69l. 6s. 4d.—as I commenced to make out the invoice I said to the prisoner "I forget your name—I have got your card somewhere"—my wife was looking for the card and could not find it—the prisoner said "I will give you another," and he put his band in his pocket and took out another one and said "That is my address" I said "Are you proprietor of this place?"—"Oh, yes," he said—it was just the same kind of card as the other—no writing on the back—I then headed the bill the same as the card—I made out the account and said "Then shall I settle the account, sir?"—he said "No, I am not prepared to pay you the whole amount—didn't Chapman tell you my terms?"—I said "Yes, cash. and I understood cash"—he said "Well I am not prepared to pay cash; I will give you 10l. and a two and a three months' bill for the remainder; of course I will make my bills payable at my bankers;"—I said "Who are your bankers?"—he said Drummond, the banker, Charing Cross"—I then said "I know nothing of you, sir, and I really cannot see my way clear to let you have the goods without cash, as I have looked them out for, it is the price for cash, I will consult my partner about it"—he then said "Well I will go and take a glass of ale while you consult your partner about it, and you can let me know"—with that he went to the door, and as he had got the door in his hand to go out he said "Of course you know I shall make my bills payable at my bunkers," a second time—I consulted my Missus about it—he didn't come back and I didn't go to see him—previous to the time I met him again, I met Chapman—he afterwards sent Chapman to know whether I would accept his offer or not—I went to the public-house to see him and said "I really cannot accept such an offer as that"—I asked him for a cheque on his bankers when I first saw him, and I would allow him 5 per cent, if he would give me a cheque on the bank for the whole amount—that is 2 1/2 per cent, over the usual amount allowed—he would not consent at all and when I saw him at the public-house I said "If you will pay me half
cash I will accept a bill on your bankers for the remainder"—he said "No, I am offering you the same terms I can get anywhere else"—I stopped there some little time with him—he said "I have sold a business for 7,500l. and the money is lying at Drummond's Bank to my credit"—I did not see Chapman there then—I was sent for to go home to business and I went outside the door and he (prisoner) followed me and said "I will make it 15l. cash and give you a one and a two months' bill"—I hesitated for a moment and then said "Well, I will accept that on the representation of your having a banking account at Drummonds, and being the owner of a house "as he represented, the Robin Hood Tavern—he then said "Can you send the veneer in at once?"—I said "I will send for my carman and it is possible you may get it within half an hour of this"—the carman did not come for nearly an hour and a half, but he did come, and the goods were loaded as checked in the prisoner's pocket-book and in my book at home to correspond with the bill, and were loaded and delivered to his order, and the bill was receipted for the 15l. received and the two bills on Drummond's bank for the remainder, and a receipt stamp put upon it.
Cross-examined. I have not got the veneer, not a little bit of it—I had the 15l. at the time of the transaction—the veneer is now in the possession of the police—I know Chapman—the prisoner did not tell me that Chapman had told him I would take 15l. and a bill at three months—I swear that—Chapman, Rose, the prisoner and myself did not go to a public-house and talk all this over, not with Rose at all, with Chapman, he brought the prisoner—I am not aware that anything was said about the account of 7,500l. when Chapman was there—he told me himself—I do not know whether Chapman might have been there—I did not tell the prisoner when I went to his house with the detective that if he would give me back the veneer I would give him a cheque for 15l., and that would settle the matter—I said "My carman first gave me information that you were not proprietor of the public-house in the evening he arrived, after delivering the goods; I thought that was very strange, and I said I must see into this, and I sent my man to the bank"—he did not tell me that he would not give me back the goods, that it was a perfectly fair transaction, as he had paid me 15l. and the bills would be met—he did not tell me that, I swear—he never told me in Rose and Chapman's presence that he had no banking account—he did not say that he never said he was the proprietor of the Robin Hood public-house—the veneer was 4 1/2 d. per leaf—I swear I have never offered to sell it to Chapman at 1d. a leaf—I have only my wife as a "partner," so I leave you guess whether the veneer was mine—I was never bankrupt in my life—my "partner" was present at all the interviews which transpired in my house—I did not borrow 10s. of the prisoner on the day of the sale of this veneer—he took 10s. out to get the bills, and deducted that from the 15l. he paid me—the business did not last from 1 till 7 o'clock, over sundry glasses of ale—the bill was made out, and I would not accept his first offer—I did not say I had an account with Drummond's—I never had an account in my life—I told the prisoner that during the time I served my apprenticeship as engineer in Southampton I knew Drummond's place.
SARAH BRINE . I am the wife of the last witness—I recollect the 11th February, and the prisoner being with my husband in the house—I was there—Mr. Hastings presented this card to my husband—I did not see all that transpired, I heard—my husband asked the prisoner if he was the
proprietor of that place, the Robin flood, and he said "Yes"—the account was being made out then, and I heard nothing for a few minutes—my husband then asked him to settle the account—he said "No; did not Chapman tell you the terms?"—my husband said "Yes, cash, and I understood from yourself cash"—he said "No, I shall give you 10l. in cash and a two and a three months' bill"—my husband said he could not accept that, he had been so taken in with bills—the prisoner then said he had an account at Messrs. Drummond's bank, Charing Cross—my husband said "If you have an account there write me out a cheque, and I will allow you 5 per cent., which is 2 1/2 over the usual allowance"—the prisoner said "Oh, no; I am only offering you what I can get at any other firm; it is purely a matter of business"—my husband said he would rather not have anything to do with bills, as he had been so taken in with them, and he said "I must consult my partner"—the prisoner then said "I will go and have a glass of ale, and let me know your decision."
Cross-examined. My husband has no partner except myself—I do his outdoor work.
GEORGE BOSWELL . I am the landlord of the Robin Hood tavern, Shacklewell Lane—the owner is Mr. Payne—about a fortnight before the 11th February the prisoner came and took two empty rooms at my place at 6s. per week, the third floor—he did not carry on business of any kind there—that card (produced) is not mine—I have seen one before, and that is all I know about it—the property is not mine, and I have not sold it.
JAMES MARRYATT —I am ledger clerk at Messrs. Drummond's bank, Charing Cross—I have examined my books, and do not find any account in the name of "Hastings," or "Hastings, Dale & Co.," or "Frank Hastings," and no one had paid in a sum of 7,500l. at our bank on the 11th February or previously in the name of "Hastings"—I know nothing of the prisoner.
GEORGE COOPER (Detective Officer H). On the 15th February the prisoner was given into my custody at the Robin Hood tavern—I told him I should take him for obtaining a quantity of veneers from Mr. Brine by falsely representing that he had an account at Drummond's bank, and that he was the proprietor of the Robin Hood tavern, Shacklewell Lane—he said "I never said so; Brine had better mind what he is about, or I shall make him pay for it"—I found a lot of correspondence and bills and different things on him—I found the veneers at the tavern in a first floor front room, unfurnished.
Witnesses for the Defence.
----CHAPMAN. I am a veneer dealer—I know Mr. Brine—I remember seeing him with the prisoner about some veneers on the 11th February—Mr. Brine agreed to sell some at 4 1/2 d. a leaf—Mr. Brine, the prisoner, Rose and myself went to a public-house to talk it over, and arranged what was to be paid for the veneer and how it was to be paid for—I never heard anything about the 7,500l.—I was present and heard the whole conversation—I did not hear prisoner say that he was a customer of Drummond's bank—I heard Brine say that the prisoner had said he would make the bills payable at Drummond's bank—the prisoner did not say anything in my presence about having sold the Robin Hood tavern—Brine said he had heard that Hastings had sold a public-house—I never heard Hastings say so—we had no whiskey—we had several glasses of ale.
By THE COURT. The name of the public-house I heard Brine mention was the Robin Hood Slacklewell Lane, Dalston—it was not in the presence
of the prisoner, but outside—Mr. Brine called me out—it was a different public-house where the bargain was made—it was about 1 o'clock when I heard Brine say that the prisoner had sold the Robin Hood public-house, before the conversation in the public-house.
By MR. FRITH. Mr. Brine said to me "I have heard this Mr. Dale has sold a public-house for 7,500l."
COURT. Did he say that in the public-house. Witness. After Mr. Bryne called me out of one public-house.
COURT. You have just declared in answer to me that he called you out of one public-house and told you that he had heard that the prisoner had sold the public-house, and this was said to you before the conversation in the public-house. Witness. Mr. Brine tells me that Mr. Dale had sold the public-house for 7,500l.
COURT. You swore you never heard anything said about the public-house—how can you presume to trifle with the Court in that way?—you were asked in the most plain way by the learned counsel whether you ever heard anything about the 7,500l. or Drummond's, and you said you had not—you immediately contradict yourself by saying that you heard the bills were to be made payable at Drummond's and shift about between these two public-houses. Witness. Mr. Brine told me that.
By MR. FRITH. Nothing was said about the matter again in the public-house.
By THE COURT. We went to the second public-house at about 2 o'clock, Mr. Brine and I—we went to meet Mr. Dale there; he was there when we went in—we stayed till about 7.30 in the evening—I am sure of that—Mr. Brine says "Chapman, so you know this man?"—I said "No, I don't"—he said "I hear he has sold this public-house for 7,500l.—I said "Very well, I am glad to hear it, so far, that he is in a good position to pay you this money," 70l. odd—he then says "He has offered me fifteen sovereigns in gold and two bills"—I said "He is a stranger to me, Mr. Brine; have the money for the goods before they go away"—Brine says "I have got a partner in this business and I must go and consult my partner's feelings about the bills"—the prisoner heard all this—Brine went out and came back to the public-house, and said "I will serve him for the 15l. and the bills"—he then says "Lend me 10s., I borrowed half a sovereign to go and buy the two bills"—then they go to the house and go in the parlour, and I go in the mill—he afterwards came out and said "I have settled the business Chapman; will you help load the van?"—this was about 7.45.
By MR. FRITH. These veneers have been offered to me by Mr. Brine, at 2 1/2 d. each for 3,000 of them—Mr. Hastings was introduced to me by Mr. Rose—he was a stranger to me as a buyer—I introduced several gentlemen previous to this.
Cross-examined. I am a veneer dealer, I have had dealings with Brine before—Rose is a timber dealer, I have known him for years—Rose said "I have a buyer for the veneers"—I said "Indeed"—he said "Yes," and then Mr. Dale came—this was on the 11th in a public-house, The London Apprentice, Old Street, St. Luke's—he (Prisoner) said "Have you some veneers for sale?"—I said I have, what do you want?"—he said "What is the price of them?"—I said "4d."—I gave him Mr. Brine's card and said "That is where the goods are"—he gave me his card, and I gave him mine—I think that card "Hastings, Dale, & Co.,"(produced) is the one—we made an appointment and met at the mill—I said to Mr. Brine "I
have a gentleman about buying these veneers"—I gave him a card something like the one produced—he said "Do you know this man?"—I said "No; I believe he is in a position to pay for them," because I had heard from Rose that he bad sold a public-house, and was enabled to buy the goods—he did not say where the public-house was that the prisoner had sold, and he did not say what he had sold it for—I advised Brine not to let him have the goods without the money.
279. JOHN BENJAMIN (24), WILLIAM WEST (22) and CHARLES MCBEAN (21). The said Charles McBean for that he was found by night unlawfully armed with a jemmy with intent to break and enter a dwelling-house and to commit felony therein—the said John Benjamin and William West aiding and abetting the said Charles McBean to commit the said felony.
MR. POLAND. and MR. MEAD. conducted the Prosecution; Mr. Moody defended
West, and MR. J. P. GRAIN. defended McBean and Benjamin.
JOHN PERKINS .(Policeman C 248). On the night of the 26th March I was on duty in Wardour Street, when I saw the prisoners at the corner of the street in conversation—it was about 11.30—they went to the corner of Little Dean Street and crossed to the corner of Little Pultney Street, and went on to Down's Place—after they had been there about ten minutes I went up the court leading into Down's Place—I saw West at the right hand corner at the top of the court leading into Down's Place—the other two prisoners, before I could reach West, came down, and I heard a loud report, like a smash of glass, which I found to be a water-trough which had been broken away from the woodwork—about 19 feet of it had come down right along the end of the premises—it was across the back part of No. 72—when I heard the noise McBean and Benjamin came from the corner where the water trough was broken down to where West was standing—they got part of the way down the court when I closed with them and prevented them passing—I asked them what they had been doing there—McBean replied they had been there to make water, at the same time pointing to some water on the flags—I told him that was not fresh urine and then spoke to him respecting the water trough and asked them if they knew anything about it, and they said they knew nothing about it—two of the prisoners, West and McBean, offered me their names and addresses and mentioned Portland Street—finding no help near me I kept them in quiet conversation for a few minutes, when McBean passed to my left in the direction of the w.c. at the corner—he then came to the corner of the court again and was about to make his escape by trying to pass me, to force himself by me, when I closed with him and kept him back after a violent struggle—Bishop C 78 came to my assistance—before he came up McBean said that if they had done any damage they would pay for it—Bishop came and the three prisoners were taken into custody—McBean behaved very violently the whole of the time—at the station I searched Benjamin and found on him a box containing matches and a candle (produced)—before we left Down's Place Bishop received this jemmy (produced) from Fenton—I saw him hand it to Bishop—I didn't see where he got it from—West said he didn't know the other prisoners and they had only just come from the Surrey Theatre—I afterwards went back with the inspector and examined the place where
the trough was—that is the gutter against the window—that is a rough sketch of it (pointing)—I noticed several marks on the shutters about 6 or 7 feet from the ground—the distance from the ground to the line of the pipe is 9 to 10 feet—there is a skylight at the top, so that you can get down from the skylight into No. 72; in fact, could go round the whole block of buildings—there is a urinal in Little Dean Street where they were standing—there is no way out of Down's Place—there are nine little houses round there.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. They are all working classes that live in those nine little houses; they form a little square—I believe the w.c. is open to all in the court—I had not been in Down's Place for more than once in a month—McBean tried to slip his clothes and also again in Wardour Street—they gave me their addresses at the station—I went to McBean's and West's; they were correct—I searched there but found nothing—I found the matches on Benjamin—I found the piece of candle and two ordinary penknives—that is all—I sometimes use that kind of matches—I do not think it is common amongst working people for them to carry a piece of candle—it is composite candle—they could see without the candle outside—I never spoke to Shrives about it—I was examined twice at Marl-borough Street—I think when I was first examined I forgot to say anything about McBean being violent in trying to get out of the court—I spoke to Shrives about it after, but not to anyone else in the force.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I searched West's lodgings and found nothing there—West did not tell me his name and address while in Down's Place, Wardour Street—he mentioned 5, Portland Street, that is where he is lodging—all three went down that passage—it was not at the corner that I saw West standing—it was inside the enclosure down Down's Place, the opposite corner to where people turn off to the w.c.—I said before the Magistrate that West mentioned something to me about having been five minutes coming from the Surrey Theatre—he could not get there under two miles—there is no rail or anything of that kind connecting the Surrey Theatre, and Wardour Street—I was present when West was searched—nothing was found on him.
Re-examined. West's address was 5, Portland Street, Soho, and 8, Goodwin's Court, was McBean's address, Bedfordbury, St. Martin's Lane, Benjamin's address was 8, Newport Court—he gave his address as Ratcliffe Highway, at first.
WILLIAM BISHOP .(Policeman C 78). On 26th March, at 11 o'clock at night, I saw the three prisoner's standing at the corner of Little Pulteney Street—when I got into Peter's Street, I heard a whistle—I went down. Wardour Street, and Down's Place—I heard a crash, and I ran into the passage leading into Down's Place, and saw the other constable stopping the three prisoners—I stood in the dark and watched what they were doing—I heard the last witness ask what they were doing, and they said "Making water"—a man named Fenton came out of his house—he immediately went to the closet and pushed the door open and saw a jemmy there (produced), and picked it up and handed it to me—as he did so, West and Benjamin made a rush to get past—I seized hold of West and struggled with him, and pushed Benjamin back into the passage again—West said he lived at 5, Portland Street, and that they had been to the Surrey Theatre—I noticed McBean's chin, which had a mark on it as if he had hurt himself on a brick wall, and when I spoke of it he told me to b----myself ah it had nothing to do with me—I found on McBean, a small penknife, and a key.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I was twice examined at Marlborough Street—I did not say anything on the first occasion about having been on the spot about ten minutes beforehand—I did not see Perkins again till the next week—I have not seen the witnesses from one week's end to the other—I have had no conversation with anybody—McBean had the mark under his chin—it was as if he had tried to lodge his chin on the edge of a wall, as if pulling himself up.
Re-examined. When 1 was struggling with West, another constable came up and I handed him to the constable.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. West tried to push me on one side, an I kept him at bay.
WILLIAM FEKTTON . I live at No. 9, Down's Place—I am a bootmaker—. on the night in question, I retired to rest about 11 o'clock, and I afterwards heard a loud noise in the court, as if a glass lamp had broken—I got up and went into the yard where I saw the three prisoners, who were being taken by the police—I saw the bits of pipe down on the ground—I pushed the closet door open as I fancied there might be another man there, and I found this jemmy on the floor of the closet—it could be pushed in underneath the door—I had been to the closet half an hour before I retired to rest that night—there was no jemmy there then—I handed it to Bishop—the closet is for use of the people living in the cottages—it was locked, at least a stranger trying the door would fancy it was locked, but it can be opened by a sudden jerk—there is a public closet there.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I know Whichelow, by her living in the court—she was at the door when I found the jemmy—I did not tell her after I was examined at the police-court what evidence I had given—when I came back Miss Whichelow, was in at the time—she knew I was a witness in the case.
ALICE WHICHELOW . I am a publican's daughter, and live at No. 7, Down's Place—on the night in question I was waiting up for my father, and heard a very heavy crash, and I ran to the door and saw the three prisoners run away—they got about half way down the passage, when they were stopped by the constable—I saw McBean run back and turn to the left and pull something thick from his coat and stoop down and put it under the closet door, and he kicked it with his fist—I afterwards saw Mr. Fenton go to the closet, find the jemmy, and give it to the constable.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I did not say anything about Benjamin at the Police Court except that I saw his back as he was going down the passage—I didn't recognise him.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I live at the end—I stood at my father's door, nearly the whole time—we could see the prisoners pass the lamp which is right at the corner by the water closet—I saw three men there—Perkins was there—the three men did not include Perkins—I saw three men and Perkins.
All three prisoners PLEADED GUILTY. to various former convictions— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, April 8th, 1875.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH and
MR. MOODY the Defence.
JOSEPH WOOLHOUSE . I am messenger employed by the Imperial Ottoman Bank, 28, Throgmorton Street—on the morning of the 18th March, about 9.50, I was standing between the two counters of the bank preparing to get the bank ready, and seeing that all was right—the prisoner and another man came in—one followed the other in—the missing man asked me for a list of the drawn bonds—I said I would give him one, and I went round the counter—the prisoner was standing near the left hand counter; I went round to a desk which one of the clerks has, and where the list is strung up on a nail, and while I was looking for the list I turned my head towards the door and saw the prisoner with a parcel in his possession—I holloaed out to him lustily, and he dropped it instantly—he seemed to me as if he was going to make his escape out of the swing doors—the door is about 2 yards from the counter where that package was placed; this (produced) is the parcel—I immediately ran round from behind the counter to the front, ran up to the prisoner, and asked him what he was doing with that parcel—he said "I accidentally knocked it off the counter"—I asked him what brought him there, what was his business, and he said he came in with the other gentleman—I said "Then I must detain you"—we sent for a policeman and gave him in charge—my wife came in at the same time as the prisoner and the missing man; so she told me—the packages of the cancelled coupons were about 2 feet high on the counter, and the counter is about 3 feet high—I examined the pile of packages and found one missing besides this one; it had been taken from the top of one of the piles—there were two piles, and a package had been taken from each—there was a broken parcel; that was on the top of the one that was taken away—I saw it on the counter after I had spoken to the prisoner; previous to that it had been on the top of the pile.
Cross-examined. The packet of loose coupons was not on the floor when my attention was called to it—I did not see anyone pick it up from the floor and put it on the counter—the counter is 3 feet high, and each of the parcels of bonds was about 2 feet high on the counter—they were arranged one on the other, and were about the same size as this parcel—I believe they were all cancelled coupons—I did not find one parcel on the floor after the missing person went out—all the" others were on the counter, except the one which was taken away by the missing man—there was no other official of the bank there—there was a young gentleman who says he saw the parcel drop from the further part of the bank—he is here—his name is Mr. Beard—I don't remember that Mr. Beard and I had a discussion as to whether some of the bundles were on the floor and had tumbled down, and were put back on the counter—I don't remember it—I don't remember that Mr. Beard said that one of the parcels was on the floor, except the one that the prisoner dropped—it was not the paying-in counter where the parcels were—there is a right hand counter and a left hand counter—the parcels were on the left counter—the prisoner was near the counter where the parcels were—the other man was about 3 yards from the door when he made the inquiry of me; between the counters—I don't recollect the prisoner saying that he picked the parcel up after he had accidentally knocked it down—when I first saw the parcel in his possession he seemed as if he was going to strike out of the door—I spoke to him, and he let it
fall—it was all in an instant—he was in the bank at the time the other man made the inquiry—he was standing in the bank near the left hand counter—we open at 10 o'clock.
MARIA WOOLHOUSE . I am the wife of the last witness—we live at the bank—on the morning of the 18th March, I was going into the business part of the bank—I went in with two men who were going in at the same time—the prisoner was one of them—my husband was dusting the counter of the office, and one of the men asked him for a form or paper, or something of that sort—and he said "Very good, sir"—he left them, walked on, and the other men followed after him and I followed him—I knew there was another man at the door, but I did not look at him—my husband had to go round the other side of the desk to get the form—I turned to go up the stairs, and my back was to them till I got to the corner—when I got there I turned to the right—they were on my right side, and I heard my husband holloa out very loud—I looked sharp round and saw the prisoner at the swing door, and I saw a parcel drop from him—it was a parcel like this produced—I saw it drop from him—the parcels were about 2 yards from the swing doors—he was backing himself out of the swing doors—his face was to me.
Cross-examined. I did not see the other man go out—he was clean gone when I saw this man at the door—I did not see any other parcel on the floor, only the one at the door—I heard the prisoner say he had accidentally knocked it down—he did not say to my husband that he was picking it up—I saw him picking it up from the floor after he let it fall—my husband rushed round as quick as he could—I did not see anyone take the parcel from the counter—I did not even see him lay it on the counter—I merely saw him picking it up after he had let it fall.
THEODORE BEARD . I am a clerk in the Imperial Ottoman Bank—on 18th March, shortly before 10 o'clock, I was in the bank—I saw two men enter—one walked up to Woolhouse—I did not hear what he asked him for, and the other was standing the other side—that was the prisoner—I was at the other end of the bank—I heard something drop, and I looked round and saw the prisoner dropping a parcel—he was on the right hand side of the bank near the swing doors—he appeared to be going out—I went up when Woolhouse spoke to the prisoner—I examined the pile of coupons afterwards and found there was another one missing besides that which the prisoner dropped—they were taken from the top of the pile—there was a small broken parcel on the ground—I did not touch it; it was picked up—I don't know who picked it up.
Cross-examined. That parcel contained cancelled coupons likewise—it was not close by where the pile was—it was nearer the door—that was the door through which the other man had gone—I did not have a talk with Woolhouse as to whether there was not one on the floor—Woolhouse asked the prisoner what he was doing with them, and he said he knocked them down accidentally; he said "I came in with the ether gentlemen"—I don't know whether this (produced) is one of the Turkish notes payable at our bank—I don't know anything about the notes—I dare say Mr. Davies will tell you—I don't know that it was found on the prisoner's clothes.,.
HENRY DAVIES . I am one of the chief clerks in the secretary's department of the Imperial Ottoman Bank—on 18th March I was going there shortly before 10 o'clock—I was about 30 yards from the bank when, about
15 yards from me, on my right, I saw a man coming from the direction of the bank—he had a parcel similar to that one—what took my attention was some red sealing wax, but I did not think it was one of our parcels at the time—I went into bank and Woolhouse was then speaking to the prisoner, who was close to the folding doors—I said to Woolhouse "Have you lost anything"—my suspicion was aroused from seeing him speaking to the prisoner—Woolhouse said "I believe there is one missing"—I looked at the pile and I saw there were some missing from the top—I told one of the clerks to run out down the road—a constable came sometime after that—there was not a loose parcel with the piles the day before, they were all packed up—we have to send these coupons over either to Alexandria or Constantinople—the other parcel has not been found, and that will give us a great deal of trouble.
Cross-examined. I have seen very few Turkish notes—I can't say whether this is a genuine note or not—it might be payable at Constantinople through our bank.
CLEMENT SHEPHERD (City Policeman 860). I was sent for to the Imperial Ottoman Bank and saw the prisoner there—I asked him to account for being I at the bank—"Not now, wait awhile," or words to that effect—I took him to the station and searched him, and found 9s. 10d. in money and two sporting papers—he said he had no fixed address; he came from Leicester the day before.
Cross-examined. I don't know of that note being afterwards found in. his clothes.
Witnesses for the Defence.
DANIEL SHAW . I reside at 62, High Street, Lambeth, and am in the employment of the Chartered Gas Light Company at Pimlico—I have been there ten years next November—I have known the prisoner for the last ten or twelve months—I havealways seen him in working men's company, the same as I have been myself—on Thursday morning, 18th March, I had been to Shoreditch Station to see a couple of my mates off by the train—as I was coming back from Shoreditch Station I saw the prisoner coming down Throgmorton Street; a narrow street; I am not acquainted with the City much, but I believe that was the name of it—no one was with him—it was about ten o'clock as near as I can guess—I had a conversation with him for about a couple of minutes—I said "Holloa, what are you doing up this road"—he said "I have got a little business over at the bank here"—I said "Will you come and have a glass of ale"—he said "No I have not got time now, I shall see you when I get home this evening"—he lived at that time at Walcot Square, Lambeth—I live in Lambeth—I work in Pimlico—I live in the same parish as the prisoner—the prisoner shook hands with me and went across the road and went into a large building close to an archway—I did not see him meet anyone or speak to anyone before he went into the building—I went to the station to go home to my work and that is all I know about it.
Cross-examined. I had seen the. prisoner the evening before, we had several glasses of ale together, too much I am sorry to say—I saw him at the Duke of Cambridge in Kennington Lane and also at the George and Dragon, Vauxhall—he lives in Walcot Square—I have never been there to his lodging—it was somewhere about 10 o'clock in the morning that I met him—I left Shoreditch a little after 7 o'clock—I was not in a hurry and I was having a look at the City as I came along—it must have been because I went and had a glass of ale and I could see the time then—I was with the prisoner
on the Sunday night, and on the Monday night—I have been in his company as much as four or five evenings a week.
By THE COURT. The prisoner is a tailor by trade—his mates call him "the little tailor"—I have known him ten or twelve months as near as I can guess—he worked for several people about there—I know people he has made clothes for—there was some work at Newington Butts he worked at regular.
HARRIET ORBURY . My husband's name is George, and he is foreman of the porters at the British Museum and has been so for fifteen or twenty years—I live at 37, Walcot Square, Kennington—the prisoner has lodged there for five months—he has always acted as a gentleman—I don't know his trade—he was not there in the day much—I heard of his being taken into custody—I did not search his room till a fortnight afterwards—his clothes were hanging up in the bed-room and my husband desired me to brush them and fold them up and put them in a drawer, and by so doing I felt in his pocket and felt a piece of paper—this is the paper—(the note which had been produced)—he was never at the lodgings after he was taken into custody—I thought he was a traveller or something of that kind.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and AUSTIN METCALFE conducted the Prosecution;
and MR. POYNTER the Defence.
WILLIAM HOGG . I am the proprietor of the Opera Hotel, in Bow Street—in August last the prisoner called upon me about publishing a book called the "History of Leicester Square," and asked me if I would have an advertisement in it—I had never seen him before, but he said he was a very great friend of my brother's, had known him for years and it would be a great service to him—I agreed to have the advertisement and I think once or twice he came after that, and the books were published—one night the prisoner came and said "I have run short of money, I want to get to Wandsworth, to my wife and family"—that was about a month after he first introduced himself to me—I. lent him 10s.—when he first came a person came with him whom he said was publishing the book—I did not know his name at that time—about the 1st September, or the last day of August, the prisoner brought a cheque for 3l. 10s.—I asked him who was the drawer of the cheque, and he said "Murray Harding, the gentleman who was with me publishing the book"—I asked him if the cheque was a good one—I said "Do you know it is right"—he said "He has got plenty of money there, he banks at Hoare's, and he has got plenty of money in the bank"—I said "Very well, if you will endorse the cheque I will cash it for you"—he said "You may as well take the 10s. out that I owe you"—I handed him three sovereigns—this (produced) is the cheque. (Read: "1st September, 1874, Messrs. Hoares, bankers. Pay William Mason, Esq., or bearer, 3l. 10s., Murray Harding." Endorsed "William Mason, W. Hogg.")—I paid that into my bankers, and it was returned to me marked "no account"—no other person who called himself Murray Harding came to my place, except the person who came with Mason, when the book was publishing—he may have come two or three times, perhaps with Mason—I saw the Mr. Murray Harding, who was called at Bow Street—he was not the man who came about the book.
Cross-examined. He did not introduce the man to me as Murray Harding, when the cheque was cashed, he said the person who signed the cheque was the person who was with him in bringing out the book—I went to Hoare's about this myself—I saw the words no account on it—they did not write any other words at that time—the words "Not stated on what account drawn "were written when it was returned through my bankers—I went to the bank to ask the meaning of that—they meant that he never had an account there and did not know such a person—this (produced) is the book on Leicester Square—it came out just before Leicester Square was opened—I can't tell you the day—it was in July—it has my advertisement in it—I paid for that in advance—I had a receipt for it, but I can't find it—I have heard since that Mr. Attwell was the other man who was bringing it out—that was the person who came to me, but he was represented to me as Murray Harding—he said he knew there was plenty of money at the bank—I did not see the prisoner after I cashed the cheque till I met him in Tavistock Street, in January—I beckoned him across the street and asked how it was he had never been near me he must have known the cheque was a swindle—he said "Well, I am surprised; I know there was plenty of money there, you know where" Murray Harding lives?"—I said "I have been endeavouring to find both you and the gentleman since, you have got a block of my house which you never returned"—he said "I will come in this evening and settle it up with you"—he sent the block back, but he never came—I believe he called in the Gray's Inn Road, on his way to the Police Court, and borrowed the money to pay me—he offered it to me at the Police Court—he has not offered to assist me in obtaining a warrant against Mr. Harding—he said "If you take the money I will take a warrant for Harding"—the man I thought was Harding, was in the Court, but I find that his name is Attwell—he was the man who called on me originally—the policeman told me that Murray Harding was an articled clerk to some solicitors of Raymond Buildings—he did not say that he knew Harding had paid 80l. into the bank—he did not name any sum—I saw Harding at Bow Street, and spoke to him—he never told me he had been to the billiard rooms, in Holborn, about the 1st or 2nd September—he said nothing to me about being at the billiard rooms—he said something before the Magistrate to that effect.
WILLIAM BOYLE (Detective Officer C). I apprehended the prisoner on a warrant on 2nd February, at 20, Sidmouth Street, Gray's Inn Road—the prosecutor was with me, and he said the prisoner was the man who uttered the cheque at his hotel—I told the prisoner I had a warrant for his apprehension, which he read—he said "I am very much surprised at this," and entered into a long conversation with Mr. Hogg with respect to the payment, which it is impossible for me to remember—Mr. Hogg said he should allow the law to take its course—I took the prisoner to Bow Street station in a cab—he said "I am perfectly innocent of uttering the cheque knowing there was no account at the bank; I-know little or nothing of Harding; he was introduced to me by a friend of mine named Ventham; I cashed the cheque and paid it to Ventham at Davies' public-house"—that is a public-house at the corner of Sidmouth Street, called the Mechanic's Larder—I was present at the first hearing at Bow Street—Ventham was called as a witness by the prisoner—he did not attend at the adjourned hearing, and a summons was issued for his attendance.
at 23, Bedford Road—no person of the name of Murray Harding keeps an account at the bank—Messrs. Wood, Street & Hayter have an account there.
Cross-examined. Mr. Thomas Murray Harding never has kept an account at our bank—the writing across the cheque "No account" is mine—the writing "Not known on what account drawn" is in the handwriting of a gentleman named Shaw—that was written across supposing that it might have been drawn on somebody's account, the cashier not liking to place the answer "No account" on in the first instance—Mr. Murray Harding has never had money remitted to him through our bank—Mr. Harding, who lives in Somersetshire, does not remit to our bank—no sum of 80l. or 70l. had been paid in at that time by Mr. Harding—no sum of 80l. was paid in to Wood, Street & Hayter's account at that time—I have no recollection of seeing Mr. Murray Harding at the bank—he may have come, but not to my knowledge—I was the person to whom the cheque was presented across the counter.
THOMAS MURRAY HARDING . I live at Hampton Park, near Bristol—I was an articled clerk in the firm of Messrs. Wood, Street & Hayter, Raymond Buildings—the signature to this cheque is certainly not in my handwriting—I never saw the cheque in my life till I saw it at the Police Court—I never banked at Messrs. Hoare's, and never told anyone that I did so—I never told a man named Ventham that I had received 80l. and paid it into Hoare's Bank—on 2nd and 3rd September I believe I was in Somersetshire, however, Clifton Gloucestershire—I knew Ventham, and have known him about a year or a year and a half—I never gave him a cheque—he gave me one for 10l. on the Clarendon Bank—that was not paid—I should say that was a year and a half ago—I have seen Ventham once or twice since he gave me the cheque and asked him about it—I never saw him in the month of September—the last time I saw him before the cheque was presented at the Opera Hotel was about the 10th August—I never saw the prisoner—I did not know him—I only saw him at Bow Street—I think I might have met him with Ventham in Chancery Lane, but I should not know him again—he was in company with a man called Brown—they were all three together then—that was sometime the first part of August, about the 10th as near as I can recollect—I never asked the prisoner to cash a cheque for me—my father is here—I was in the habit of receiving money from him from time to time while I was at Messrs, Wood, Street & Hayter's—I did not receive the sum of 80l. in September, or tell anybody that I had done so.
Cross-examined. I have served my articles—I have not been admitted; I have not been up yet—I have not had any communication from the Law. Institution about my admission—I left Messrs. Wood, Street & Hayter's. at the end of July or the beginning of August—I went to the Inns of Court Hotel for a short time during August and then to Ridler's Hotel, and then I went into the country—I could not tell you precisely the day I went into the country—I was not in London on the 2nd or 3rd September, nor on the 1st—I will swear that—certainly it was at the end of August I went away—the 1st September was Tuesday, I was not here then—I shoot a little and hunt too—I was not partridge shooting on the 1st September, but I will swear I was in the country—I know Simpson's Billiard Rooms in Holborn—I will swear I was not there on 1st September, nor on the 30th or 31st August—I was not there any evening at 6 o'clock playing at billiards with Brown and Ventham and the prisoner—I have never been
there playing with those men—I have played with a friend or two, but not with any of those persons—I don't bet at all—I left Messrs. Wood, Street & Hayter because my term was out, and had been two or three months, previous to that, but I went on for a time in the common law department—I was not in their employment on 1st September—I left the second week in August; I can't tell you to two or three days—I said before the Magistrate that I was stopping at the Inns of Court Hotel at the end of August—I did not reside at 17, Tavistock Place, at the beginning of September—I I never said so—towards the end of August I went down into the country as I tell you—I left the Inns of Court Hotel about the 12th or 14th August—I, paid my bill when I left, that I swear—I have been there since—I keep a small bill there off and on; that is the place I always stay at when I come up—I paid a bill there; it was certainly not 21l.—I have not paid my bill at Tavistock Place—my clothes were not detained there—I left there I think the first week in August, I could tell you by my letters—I then went to Ridler's Hotel for a short time—I have not paid my bill at Tavistock Place to this day and I can't now—it is about 21l., I can't say to a few shillings—I left Ridler's Hotel about the middle of August—I did not! stay there above two or three days—I paid my bill there—then I went to the Inns of Court for a short time and then into the country—I stopped at Mr. Patton's, Harrison Street, Gray's Inn Road, for two nights—that was towards the end of August—I paid for my accommodation there—I was not there five nights certainly—a woman I met in the street took me there—a man named Brown did not take me there to get me a lodging, certainly not—Mrs. Patton did not warn me out of her house for habits of intoxication—it is a bawdy-house—I did not represent to Mrs. Patton, that I had no money and was expecting a cheque from the country—I never had a cheque from my father, "payable at Hoare's, they were drawn on a a country bank—I used to go to Hoare's occasionally—the cheques which came from my father I believe were passed through my employers account, at Hoare's—I never kept a banking account myself anywhere—when my father sent me up a cheque from the country my employers paid it into their account at Hoare's and gave me a cheque for it, or else it was cashed! by the cashier if he had got gold in the box; it would save me going to the I bank for the money—they never waited to see whether the cheque was passed through the country account—I got an open cheque for it or else the gold out of the box—I have known Ventham about eighteen months—he gave me the cheque for 10l. about eighteen months since, I should say—I am sueing him on it now—that terminated my friendship with him certainly; I have met him in the street since and he has promised to pay me) since, and I have written him letters about it, but not upon any other subject—I have had no business with him since—this paper (produced) is not in my handwriting—the signature is a good imitation, but it is not mine—I will swear that, solemnly and sincerely—he is called George Ventham here, and the name I speak of is Henry Ventham—I don't know anything about the transaction mentioned in that paper—I have never got money on mortgage for Ventham in my life—he has applied to me for loans on cheques which I have refused to cash—I got a loan of 50l., not 100l., from Solomons, a bill discounter for Ventham, and he promised to pay me the 10l. cheque if I did so—I did not get it, I only introduced him to the man in consideration of his paying me my 10l. back out of it—that was sometime in July—that had reference to the 10l. cheque because I was to
get my 10l. out of it—he rode about with me in a cab during the two days we were about that business—I have not a bill for 100l. and some bonds belonging to Ventham—I have no documents belonging to him; the 10l. cheque was quite enough for me—I introduced Ventham to Solomons and took Solomon's down to Finchley to see Ventham's property—I don't recollect ever having been at Simpson's Billiard Rooms with Mason—I never asked him to cash a small cheque for me, nor did I tell him that I had the day before received a cheque for 80l. from my father—I never said anything to him about a Country cheque that could not be cleared for a day or two—Mason never said that my employers would let me have enough to go on with, nor did I tell him that in consequence of the vacation all the partners were out of town, and that it was 6 o'clock and the office would be closed and I must have some money that night—I never said anything of the sort—I have been to the public-house at the corner of Sidmouth Street—I have not seen Mason there—I was not there about 10 o'clock one evening at the end of August or the beginning of September—I can't say that I went there while I was staying at Mrs. Patton's—I might have done, possibly—Mason never mentioned Mr. Hogg's name to me or say he was going westwards and would call on Mr. Hogg—I never had any conversation with him about the cheque—I did not make an appointment with Ventham to meet him at that public-house at 10 o'clock at night, nor with the prisoner—I never made any appointment to go down to Messrs. Hoare's to inquire about the cheque—I did not pay in 75l. or 80l. of my employers' money at that time; I never paid in their money and 1 cant say that any was paid in—I did not owe any money at the Wheatsheaf Hotel in Holborn, and I did not give them bills for accounts I owed them—I don't know a man named Clayton—I don't know a man named Watson, of Lupus Street, Pimlico; I will swear that—I have seen Brown with Ventham—I have never driven up in a cab to Brown's office in Great Quebec Street—I don't know the place—I have never asked Brown to cash a cheque for me—I have not the slightest recollection of such a transaction—Brown never got me a lodging in my life—he did not introduce me to Mrs. Patton—he never said to me "Is that cheque that you gave Mason paid"—I have never see either Brown or Ventham at Mrs. Patton's—that I swear—I was there only two nights.
Re-examined. I never saw the paper which has been produced until it was put into my hands to-day—I did not undertake to return George Ventham a charge and bond in the event of my not procuring him the sum of 250l.—I never attempted to procure the sum of 250l.—I know nothing at all about that.
Witnesses for the Defence.
HENRY VENTHAM . I live at East End, Finchley—I know Mr. Murray Harding, and have known him two or three years—he got a cheque cashed for me for 10l. and it was returned "Refer to drawer"—it was signed by Blackburn—I think that was eighteen months or two years ago; a year and nine months I think—that did not cause a break in our friendship—he said it would be placed to his father's account at the tailors, they cashed it for him, and I was to pay him as soon as I could—I have paid him—I paid him on the latter end of August or September, I can't say the date—I buy property in the name of George Ventham—I failed in business—I am not in business now—Mr. Harding introduced me to Mr. Solomons who lent me 100l.—we all three went down to Fiachley together—I was riding about in cabs with Harding for over a week—I know this
paper—it is Mr. Harding's handwriting—I saw him write it—it refers to a bond of 200l. and a bill of exchange for 250l.—he took a bond and bill to see Mr. Brown, a solicitor, to try and get money from him—that bond and bill have never been returned—it was a bond given me by Thomas Tanner, and a bill accepted by Thomas Tanner—I don't know where they are now—Mr. Harding went away and took them with him, and I have not seen him since till I saw him here to-day—I was constantly in his company till I got the money from Mr. Solomons—that was the latter end of August or the beginning of September, 1874—he lent me 100l.—I have paid that back to Solomons—it was not 50l. it was 100l.—about the end of August or the beginning of September I was in Mr. Harding's company every day—I was with him one evening at the beginning of September at Simpson's billiard-rooms in Holborn—I can't tell you the day of the week—it was 1st September between 5 and 6 o'clock—Mason came in while we were there—Mr. Harding asked me if I could get him a cheque cashed, a small cheque, till be received the money up from the country—I told him I could not—he then asked Mason in my presence if he could cash him a cheque—he did produce the cheque—it was not wrote then—Mr. Mason said "I can get it cashed if it is a good cheque and will be paid"—Mr. Harding said his father was remitting him 80l. through Hoare's bank to his account—then he went and bought a sheet of paper and a stamp and came back and wrote the cheque—this is the same cheque—I know his handwriting and that is it—Mr. Mason went away with it—he said he was going to Covent Garden and he made an appointment to meet Mr. Harding at Davies' Mechanic Larder, between 9 and 10 o'clock at night—he said he was going to ask Mr. Hogg, a gentleman he did business with, to cash the cheque, and he asked Mr. Harding not to allow him to take it unless it was a good cheque, because Mr. Harding was a good customer of his—I was with Mr. Harding the remainder of the evening, and we went to the Mechanic's Larder between 9 and 10 o'clock—Mason came there—he called Mr. Harding outside and I went out with him and he gave him 3l. and said "That is all I had on the cheque, I owed Mr. Hogg 10. which he has deducted"—Mr. Harding said "Never mind the 10s. that will pay you for your trouble"—I saw Harding afterwards, but he did not say anything about the cheque—I went with him to Brown's in Great Quebec Street in a cab—that was before the cheque was given; I can't say the day—he asked Mr. Brown if he could cash him a small cheque, and Mr. Brown said he could not—I met Harding, the day after the cheque had been given to Mason, by appointment at Hoare's Bank, and he was to ascertain whether his father's cheque had been cleared—I did meet him and he went into Hoare's—I waited outside—when he came out he said the cheque was not there, he should have an answer about 3 o'clock in the afternoon—I went with him the next morning and then it was not cleared—I did not go into the bank with him—he told me it was not cleared—I have never had any conversation with him about the cheque since—I don't know whether it was ever cleared—I went to Patton's while Mr. Harding was lodging there—he was not up generally when I called—I saw him there four or five days running in the morning—I had conversations with him there on business matters—Mr. Brown used to call there—he introduced him there—I know Mr. Harding was at Mrs. Patton's four or five days—I saw him every day, he was there—I saw him four or five times—Brown introduced him to Mrs. Patton one evening and I called in the morning.
Cross-examined. I was charged before the Common Serjeant yesterday
with conspiring with Brown to obtain money on a fictitious cheque—that is the same Brown who has been mentioned to day—I don't know that he is here—I have not seen him since he was discharged yesterday—it was Walter Palmer's cheque for 6l. 10s. we were charged with—I was committed from Marlborough Street Police Court to take my trial with Brown—and I heard it stated yesterday that no evidence would be offered, because there was a balance of 15s. 10 d. in the bank at the time—I believe Palmer has left the country; I don't know—when I was taken into custody I said "It is no use looking for Palmer, he was out of the country"—I will swear that I don't know whether Brown is coming here as a witness or not—William Maiden was the prosecutor in the case yesterday—he cashed the cheque for Brown—it was Brown's cheque—I never had it at all—I don't know how I came to be charged—I saw the cheque in Mr. Maiden's" parlour when he cashed it for Brown—I knew Palmer in business—I let him ten houses—his business place was in George Street, Portman Square, and he lived at 55, Green Street, Fitzroy Square—I did not let him a house in George Street, Portman Square, or live or stay there with him, I will swear that—I did not tell Mr. Maiden that Palmer was living in a house of mine—I did not hear Brown tell him so—Brown asked Mr. Maiden if he would cash the cheque, and that was all—Mr. Maiden asked me if I thought it was a good cheque, and I said I believed it was—it turned out not to be, but I could not help that—I saw Palmer two or three days after the cheque was given, that was the next morning after Mr. Maiden called upon me in the evening—I told Palmer about the cheque—I don't know when he left the country, I have only been told by his brother—Mr. Harding cashed me a cheque on the Clarendon Bank, which was returned—that was Blackburn's cheque—he was a builder in the Clapham Road—I don't know where he is now—I tried to get the money from him—I believe he failed, but I don't know—I could not find him; that is not the only cheque I have been concerned with which has been returned "No account"—I don't know how many—I don't think many—I think I got a cheque cashed for Mr. Palmer once before—I did not cash it myself—I introduced him to a publican who cashed it for him—it was dishonoured—it was returned "refer to drawer"—the amount was 7l.—that was in 1869 and Maiden's was in 1870—the cheque in 1869 was not Palmer's cheque, it was given to Palmer by Mr. Davis, payable to Palmer's order—I don't know who Davis was—I believe it was not paid—I believe that is the only one 1 have had to do with—Mr. Bigg cashed a cheque of Brown's, which was returned refered to drawer—those are the only ones I believe—I can't say what transactions I have had with cheques—I have been a witness in criminal cases three times; twice at the Middlesex Sessions—neither of those was to do with cheques—one was a man named Tarrant trying to get goods by false pretences—I was a witness for the prosecution—he had nine months—I don't remember the evidence I gave—the other time was a seaman stole a watch I believe—I was a witness for the prosecution then—I have never been a witness for the defence at the Middlesex Sessions, I will swear that—I was a witness at the Police Court in this case; no other case—I can't recollect that I have ever been a witness for the defence before—I don't believe I have—I saw Mr. Harding write both the cheque and that paper—I asked him to give me an undertaking for the bond, and he wrote that and gave it to me—I don't know that he wrote on both sides of the paper—he might have done—I did not look at the other side—
I could not swear whether he did or not—I am Henry Ventham, not George—I did not know that anyone had written on the paper "I undertake to pay George Ventham," and crossed it out—I don't know that I saw him write that—I did not take any proceedings against him about these bonds—I never knew where he was—I wrote down to his father's address and his uncle's and got no answer—I have not seen Solomons here—I was examined at Bow Street on the first occasion when the prisoner was had up—he was remanded—I appeared on the second remand—I was in custody on the third remand—I had a summons to attend the day I was taken—I believe that was the third remand—Mr. Newton was the Magistrate who sent me for trial—I was admitted to bail, but I could not get bail.
Re-examined. No evidence was offered against me yesterday on the part of the prosecution—at the time I said Palmer's cheque was a good cheque I believed so—I knew 60l. was paid in the day before—I waited outside while he went in, and he showed me his book when he came out, and the balance to his credit was 60l.
LETITIA PATTON . I live at Harrison Street, Gray's Inn Road—I know Mr. Murray Harding—he was staying at my house as near as I can recollect at the beginning of September—he stayed about five days—I could not swear that he was there on 1st September—he was brought there first by a man named Brown—he does not owe me any money—I don't know the prisoner—the first time Mr. Harding came to me Mr. Brown, asked me to give him a bed as he had no money, but had a cheque that he would change in a day or two—they both told me that—I did not have any money the next day—he does not owe me any now.
Cross-examined. My house is a lodging-house—I let to married people—women don't come there—Mr. Harding was not with a woman—I swear that positively—I was here yesterday—I saw Brown then outside, and said good morning to him—I have not seen him to-day—I know Ventham—I have seen him to-day—I did not know the prisoner before—I did not want to speak to him yesterday.
Re-examined. I was with the prisoner's wife, and she wished to speak to him when he was in the dock.
GUILTY —Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. MOODT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MORETON the Defence.
HENRY FLATMAN . On 9th March, I was passing along Hoxton Square, about 11.39—the prisoner and some other men attacked me from behind and threw me on my. back—some man that I did not see rifled my pockets, took my money, my keys, and knife—while that was being done the prisoner was kneeling on me with one band on my throat, and the other on my mouth—my trowsers pockets were rifled while in that position—there was a lamp close to me and I could see the face of the man who was holding me as plainly as I can see yours—I could see the man when I got up, he was the last to get away—he ran away, I ran after him, but some old man stopped me and he got away—I went the next morning to the police-station and gave information, and a description of the persons who had attacked me—I gave a description of the prisoner amongst others—on the Saturday evening a policeman called at my place, and I went to the station where I was shown six or seven men—I picked the prisoner out immediately I opened the door—I have no doubt about him at all.
Cross-examined. He knelt straight in front of me—I can't say for how long, it seemed a long time to me—I was between two lamps, and the nearest one would be shining right on the prisoner's face—I was on my back in front of the lamp—his hands were on my mouth and throat, not near my eyes—I had been to Shoreditch, to see some friends off by the bus—I had had some beer; I was not intoxicated—I went home because I was nearer home than the police-station, and I was very glad to get home—I was not afraid the police would think me drunk.
RICHARD NURSEY (Detective Officer N). I received a description from Flatman, and on the following Saturday night, I saw the prisoner in a public-house and took him in custody in consequence of the description—I told him he was charged with robbing a man down in Hoxton Square, a few nights previous—he said "All right master"—on the way to the station he said "It was not me master; I have not done anything of the sort for this last five months"—I placed him amongst six other men at the station, the prosecutor Was sent for, he walked in and picked him out immediately.
Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have witnesses to prove I was not there at the time."
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARGARET HOLDEN . I live in New Street, Dock Street—I know the prisoner very well—on the night of Tuesday, 9th of March, I was with him from 5.30 in the afternoon till about 1 o'clock in the morning—we went to the Eagle Theatre, in the City Road, and were there during the whole of the performance—I met him about 5.30 in the afternoon, and we had a drop of ale together, and went to his father's place, where we stayed a little while, till it was time to go to the theatre, and we came out of the theatre about 11.30, and met his father; we went home to his father's place and stayed there till about 1 o'clock, and he saw me home to the corner of Church Street, Shoreditch, where I parted from him—I did not leave the prisoner at all all the evening, except during the time we came out after the first act was over.
Cross-examined. I keep company with the prisoner and expect to be his wife—I heard of his being taken into custody, on the Sunday, and I went on the Monday to Worship Street—his father lives in Pitville Street, City Road, about five or ten minutes' walk from Hoxton Square—his father was not called before the Magistrate—I was the only one called—his father is outside—I was the only person at the Police Court to give evidence for him—his father was not there—I heard from a young man that he was locked-up, and I went and enquired at the station-house—I can swear he did not leave me for five minutes from 5.30 in the afternoon till 1.15 in the morning.
By THE COURT. I don't remember going to the theatre with him before that night, for a long while—we had not been that week—I am certain it was Tuesday and not Wednesday—I was at work on the Tuesday, at 3, Newgate Market—I am a tailoress—I was at work every day that week—I had made an appointment on the Monday to meet him the next day to go to the theatre—I am sure it was Monday that the agreement was made.
DENNIS MULLINS . I am the prisoner's father—I recollect the 9th March—the prisoner came to my house with a female about 6.35, and we went and had a glass of ale, and he said they were going to the Grecian Theatre—I said "Very well, perhaps I shan't see any more of you to-night"—he said "Oh, yes, you will, because we shall be back to-night"—I waited up till 11.35, and then walked up to the Grecian and met them on the road—we
went home and had two pints of beer at my house, and they left about 12.50, and I have not seen any more of them—I met them about twenty yards from the theatre.
Cross-examined. That was about 11.45 when I met them near the Eagle—I heard on the Sunday morning he was taken into custody—I did not go to the Police Court at all; I did not think anything about it—I was not called upon to speak in this matter till I came and saw him in Newgate—I am a pensioner—I did not hear anything at all about it till the Sunday—I believe my son and the young woman often met, but I know nothing further about it.
By THE COURT. My son does not live with me—I feel certain it was the Tuesday night and not the Wednesday they were at my house, because I always know when my son comes to my house—I have got it marked up always, the day of the month he comes to my house.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. BESLEY and DE MICHEL the Defence.
WILLIAM ANSTY . I am assistant to Thomas Joseph Barrett, jeweller, 94, Edgware Road—on 26th January, the prisoner came into the shop about 12.30 in the day, and asked to be shown some lockets suitable for bridesmaids—I showed him a number of lockets which were in a tray covered with velvet, and a number of hooks in the tray, and on each hook hung a locket—he took six or eight lockets from the tray and selected four, which he at first thought might do to send the lady to look at, but on consideration he thought that two of them being rather larger than the other two, it would create a jealousy amongst the bridesmaids, and he wished to know if I would show him any larger ones—I told him I had some larger lockets, but I was afraid I had not them alike—I crossed the shop and brought four or five lockets from the window, and showed him those, and he weighed them in his hand—the locket that was stolen was one of those I had subsequently, showed him in the tray, which I took from the window—there is a ticket to each locket—I am sure I took the ticket from' the window with the locket that was stolen—I never take one out without the ticket—I saw him take that particular locket in his hand and weigh it, and I saw it on the counter a minute or two after that—he asked about some engraving—he wished to see some specimens of engraving which he would want placed on the pockets—Mr. Barrett came into the shop at the time and asked me if he could assist me, seeing me looking for the specimens, and I told him what I was looking for—he went to the desk and found an envelope with some initials on it—the prisoner did not mention what letters he wanted put on the lockets—he then took his hat off the counter and put it on, saying he had got the whole of the particulars he wanted, and hurriedly left the shop—I had told him before the cost of the engraving—there was a. young lady in the shop at the time, but no other customer except the prisoner—the young lady was sitting down the whole of the time, about six feet from the prisoner—there was a chair between her and the prisoner—I went to the police station on 2nd March and picked the prisoner out from a number of men—I had not the slightest doubt about his identity, and I have not now—I discovered the locket had
gone about three or four minutes after he left the shop—no other person had been in after he left.
Cross-examined. It did not come across my mind at the Police Court about the young lady sitting on a chair—I stated there was another customer in the shop—Mr. Barrett gave a description of the man to the police—I did not—sometimes we receive goods in the daytime from manufacturers—the business fluctuates, sometimes as many as fifty people come in the day—I did not search for the locket afterwards, and it was not necessary—we have goods brought in by manufacturers and left for approbation sometimes in the day—we keep a stock-book—we don't compare the actual stock with the stock-book every night—the window is only dressed about once a month, when it is cleaned—the articles are left in the window from night till morning—I don't remember how long before that particular day the window was dressed—we take stock once a year—we enter everything that we sell and compare that book with the stock-book—we have not done that since the 26th January.
Re-examined. I saw the particular locket in the prisoner's hand—I found the ticket of it after he had gone, lying there without the locket—when I took it out of the window I took it out with the ticket—when we sell articles we remove the ticket and put it on one side, and use it again sometimes—I never knew a ticket get changed by accident.
Cross-examined. I did not know that the prisoner was the writer of several books—we think he was an attorney at one time.
Re-examined. I have heard he was suspended.
JURY to W. ANSTY. I can identify the prisoner as a person who had been to our shop previously, and I am quite sure he is the same man.
WILLIAM NIMPRESS . I am a jeweller at 32, Davies Street—about 4 o'clock on the afternoon of 10th February, the prisoner came into my shop and asked to look at some earrings—amongst the things that he looked at there was one set of locket and earrings—that was the only locket he looked at—it had five diamonds in the centre, and then it was alternately pearl and turquoise all round—I saw that locket in his fingers once—he left the shop after buying a pair of earrings—he had hardly gone off the door step when I missed the locket, and I called out to my sister—I gave information to the police, about half an hour afterwards—I went to the police-station on the 24th, and saw thirty or forty men together there and I picked the prisoner out—there were three ladies in the shop part of the time the prisoner was there, old customers.
Cross-examined. A man did not come in and speak to me—the locket was with the earrings, in the same row of cotton—there was no one else in the shop besides the prisoner and the three ladies—they are not here—we did not doubt the possibility of the prisoner having taken it—my sister said "Wait a minute let us see whether it is there or not"—there were about twelve pairs of earrings in the wool cushion and one locket—I did not search afterwards on the floor and about the shop—I said to my sister before the
prisoner had hardly got off the doorstep "He has stolen a locket"—it was worth about 32l.—he paid me 2l. for the earrings he bought.
CATHERINE BRADLEY . I am the sister of the last witness and assist him in the shop—I saw the prisoner come in on 10th February—I was attending to three ladies, very old customers, they left ten or fifteen minutes before the prisoner—I saw the locket safe several times while I cleared—my brother missed it directly after the prisoner was gone—we made a search—we could have had him on the doorstep, but for looking on the carpets.
Cross-examined. The ladies were looking at some silver things—my brother did the earrings up for the prisoner, and he went out instantly—I did not see any man come into the shop.
PHILIP SHRIVES (Detective Officer C.) I took the prisoner into custody, about 12.15, on the morning of 23rd February, in Beaumont Street, Marylebone—I told him I should take him into custody for stealing a locket at 32, Davies Street—he said "Very well, where are you going to take me to"—I said "Marlborough Street"—when we got to the station I placed him with twenty or thirty other persons, and then fetched Mrs. Bradley, and Mr. Nimpress, and they identified him immediately.
Cross-examined. He gave his address—I went there, but found nothing relating to this charge.
Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I know nothing about the locket. I am entirely innocent of the charge. I never saw any locket, none was produced to me; I only saw earrings which I bought and paid for.
GUILTY— Judgment Respited.
There was another indictment against the. prisoner.
OLD COURT.—: Friday, April 9th, 1875.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Judgment respited , the prisoners entering into recognisances, and finding sureties to appear at the next Sessions.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MILLWOOD conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED TAYLOR . I am a labourer, and reside at 16, High Street, Plaistow Marshes—on Saturday night, the 27th March, I saw the prisoner enter the Sir Robert Peel public-house, Brunell Street, Plaistow Marshes—we were there drinking together, and had two or three words, and we agreed to go out and fight—when we came outside the prisoner kicked me—I fell on a young man's back—about 300 people were standing round—I got up and walked towards him, when he stood with his hands down by his side, and he struck me, and I hallooed "I have got a knife into me"—I saw him raise his right hand; he struck me in the left side, and I felt that I was wounded—I was taken to the doctor's, who dressed my wound—I had not struck him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I didn't see a knife, because you had your hands down—I know you had a knife, because you struck me, and when you struck me I hallooed out I had a knife in me.
THOMAS LAZELLE . I live in Market Street, Plaistow Marshes—on Saturday night, the 27th March, I was standing in front of the Sir Robert Peel beer-house, and I saw the prisoner and prosecutor—the prisoner struck Taylor in the back with a knife—I saw the knife in the prisoner's hand after he struck him, and I heard the prosecutor say "I have got a knife in me"—I can't tell what you did with the knife afterwards—nobody seized the prisoner except the policeman about ten minutes afterwards; he did not go away from the spot—there was a great crowd.
JOHN NADIN (Policeman K 447). I was called to Brunell Street at about 8.15, and saw Taylor bleeding from the back—there was a crowd of about 300 persons—I asked Taylor who did it—he said he knew the man who did it, but he didn't see him there then—Thomas Lazelle came up and pointed the prisoner out—I took him into custody and told him the charge—he said nothing—I subsequently took the prisoner to a doctor's surgery, where the prosecutor was, and he (Taylor) said " He is the man"—I produce the shirt.
LEWIS MILTON . I saw the prisoner and prosecutor on that night before the row started—afterwards a woman came up and touched me on the shoulder and said "Here is a knife"—I gave it to the last witness—the woman is not here.
CHARLES KELLAND . I am a surgeon, of West Ham—on the evening in question Taylor was brought to my surgery—he was suffering from an incised wound in the lower part of the back—it had not injured any internal organ, and was not a dangerous wound—it must have been inflicted by some sharp instrument like a knife, in my opinion.
Prisoner. I have never had a knife on me for the last eighteen months.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Three Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
JESSE SMITH . I am a labourer and live at 11, Montague Street, Plaistow Marsh—on. Saturday night, 20th March, about 10 o'clock, I was in the North Woolwich Road—the prisoner and another man passed my left side and shoved me up against an oyster stall, and as my arm was up he took my watch from my pocket—I saw the chain drop—the prisoner ran away and I followed him to the Liverpool Arms and came up to him—he said "I would not have taken your watch only I have got a poor sick mother at home, and if you wait for half an hour you shall have your watch back"—I had accused him of taking the watch at the time he said that—my watch was safe two minutes before I was pressed against the oyster stall—a constable was fetched and the prisoner was given into custody—I did not get my watch.
WILLIAM CROSS (Policeman K 506). I was in the Barking Road—my attention was drawn to the Liverpool Arms—I went in and saw the prisoner and Smith who gave the prisoner into custody for stealing his watch—the prisoner said "If you will let me go I will either give you the watch
back in half an hour or the money to buy a new one"—he was taken to the station and charged.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in February, 1873**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
ARTHUR WILLIAMS (Policeman K 153). I am stationed at West Ham—about five minutes to i o'clock on the morning of 26th March I was on duty on the footway skirting the Great Eastern line, at West Ham—I saw the prisoner passing a piece of ground at the side of the line with something bulky on his shoulder—I ran after him up the line—he turned round and came towards me—I asked him what he had got—he said "It looks like some railway cushions"—I asked him where he got them and he said he picked them up between there and Custom House Station—I said "You could not have picked them up there as you were going along this waste piece of ground—he said he was going to Woolwich—there were four cushions—I took him to the police-station and charged him with the unlawful possession—he said again he picked them up—I went to the North Woolwich Railway Station and examined the carriages with the inspector there and found four cushions missing from one compartment—they were horsehair cushions.
ROBERT LUCKING . I saw the cushions safe in the carriages at 9 o'clock at night—about five o'clock the next morning my attention was called and I found four cushions missing—the prisoner had no right there at all—the carriages were standing in a siding at the North Woolwich Station, rather more than a mile from where the prisoner was taken—the cushions are worth 4l.—the windows were up and the doors were locked at 9 o'clock the previous night, and they were all locked the next morning—the prisoner was searched; no key was found upon him; but an old nail, or anything of that kind, will, open the doors.
Prisoner's Defence. About 4 o'clock on Good Friday morning I was going from the Custom House down to Beckton, having heard of a ship going to Sunderland, and I happened to come across these cushions, and I put them on the top of my head—there was a piece of bag tied round them, and directly I saw the policeman I stopped and told him I had picked them up just over the bank and I Went, down to the station with him.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Brett.,
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the
HENRY ENGLISH . I am a furnace-man at the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich—the prisoner was a police-constable there—on 19th March, at 10 o'clock in the morning, I went to one of the coal bunkers and found there two pieces of tin like this which I produce, with some coals covered over them—I spoke to Keefe about it.
Cross-examined. I have worked at the Arsenal about ten years—I have known the prisoner as a constable there the last three years—the coals in this bunker are used for the furnaces, they are only kept alight in the day-time—sometimes there is metal kept in the lead room, not far from the bunker, not close by—there were two furnaces alight on 19th March, we fetch the coals ourselves to work the furnaces, two men work at each furnace—the men leave the Arsenal at meal times, except Keefe, he worked at his furnace at meal times—the men are searched as they go out of the gates—I am not aware that men have been found going out with property upon them.
PETER KEEFE . I am a furnace-man employed in the Arsenal—on the morning of 19th March English came to me in the laboratory and made a communication, in consequence of which I went to the coal bunker and examined the place he pointed out—I found there four ingots of tin, one a-top of the other, and coal placed over them—I immediately reported the matter to the foreman—I was in the Arsenal at work all that day, I never went out; I was working near this coal bunker, I did not see anyone go to it during the day; I was in a position to see if they had gone there, I kept watch up to 9 o'clock at night, when the workmen left; they were working late that week; the constables came on duty at 10 o'clock—about 9.30, as soon as the workmen had left, I and Newton went into a furnace in the wall, in order to watch this coal bunker, and about 10.30 I saw the prisoner go straight to the coal bunker, he looked and stopped there for a minute or two, and then walk away; he came back again, and I saw him take the coals off, take the ingot, put it under his arm, and walk away with it in the direction of the hole in the wall—I and Newton then came out and followed him—there was a ladder there, whether that made a noise as we came out or not I don't know—when the prisoner heard us he walked two or three paces on to a furnace, and laid the ingot on the corner of it, it was not alight, it was the third furnace from where we were planted; it is shown on this plan (produced)—we went up to him, and Newton said "What are you doing with that?"—he said "I saw it there last night"—Newton said "Did you report it to your inspector?"—he said "No"—when we went up to him I was first, but I stepped back and let Newton come before me—I did not hear anything when the prisoner put the ingot down on the furnace—I did not see anything afterwards where the ingot was.
Cross-examined. The edge of the furnace is a cast iron frame made up with brick-work—it is hollow inside—I heard the ingot put down on the iron, that was all the noise I did hear—I was present when a conversation took place between the prisoner and Hunt at the main gate, about 11 o'clock; Newton was there—Hunt asked the prisoner if he had any keys about him—he said he had two—he produced two keys, to the best of my belief, and took off his coat—I heard him say "I saw the metal there last night, and I placed a piece of coal and a piece of coke upon it"—I don't recollect hearing him say "When I looked at it to night I found it had been disturbed;" he may have said that he was going" to report the matter as soon as he found out what kind of ingots they were—I can't swear that he did
say so, I did not hear all that passed, I was in another room part of the time—there are ingots of different metals and different sizes in the lead-room, I have never seen any ingot temporarily stacked near the coal bunkers; the bunkers are of brick-work and iron, level with the ground—there have been as many as fifty or sixty tons of coal put in the bunker; the coal is separated from the coke by an iron plate 4 or 5 feet high, when they got too high the coke runs over to the coal—I watched the bunker on 19th. March from about 10.30 or 11 o'clock in the morning till 10.30 at night—I was not away during that time; I went to put my ticket in, and Newton sent a man, and I came back again, I was relieved for three or four minutes—I was to watch to see that no one took the metal, nobody took coals from that bunker but me—the other men used coke—some hundreds of men are employed at the laboratory.
JOHN NEWTON . I am a warder in the laboratory at Woolwich Arsenal—on the morning of 19th March, I received some information about the ingots of tin—I gave some directions to Keefe, and afterwards watched with him from about 9.3—the workmen left at 9 o'clock—about 10.30 I saw the prisoner go to the coal bunker, that is the coke bunker, and I saw his hand moving; he then left the bunker and walked away about 14, 15 or 16 yards; he faltered for about half a minute, and then returned to the same spot, took out the ingot of tin, placed it on his arm, and walked away to the same spot from which he had previously returned—I then rushed out of my hiding-place; he made a sort of turn to the right, and placed the ingot on a furnace which stood about in a line with his breast—I asked him what he was doing with it, and with the flurry he said that he had been watching it previous to this—I asked him if he had been watching it, what made him take it out; he said he was not sure what it was, and he took it out to have a look at it—I said "Why did you take it from the light into a dark place to look at it? that won't do for me, you will have to go to the gate and see the inspector on duty; take up the tin and come along"—he said "No, if I have to go to the gate you can carry it yourself"—I said "Well I am not above doing that"—I carried it to the gate, at the same time that he placed the tin on the furnace I heard a slight gingle as if something had dropped with it—I said nothing, but afterwards went back to where I heard the gingle—the superintendent and I got a lamp and saw this small key lying on the furnace, which has an iron frame with a brick top; there is a hole in the wall where the hose comes through; these ingots are worth 1s. or 1s. 2d. per pound, and they weigh over 30 lbs.—this is worth about 30s., and sometimes a good deal more.
Cross-examined. The place where the coal bunk is, is open to the sky—the brass foundry is adjoining—there is a 20 feet wall at Cannon Row—the furnaces are not open to the sky; there is" a hanging shed over them with a zinc roof—the coal bunkers are open—the chimney is 150 or. 200 feet high—the boiler-house is about 20 feet high—it was a light night, although there were light clouds over the moon—it is quite open on the left hand of the boiler-house—there is only one stack there with this sort of metal—I do not know whether there were several constables walking about on duty—I am never there of a night; we have a watchman of our own who goes about to the furnace fires—besides the prisoner, I only knew of one watchman being there—the lead room is open all night, except from Saturday to Monday morning, when it is locked—it is the duty of the superintendent of police in case of fire to take out the plug and let in the
hose—when I asked the prisoner why he took it from a light to a dark place he did not appear capable of giving an answer, he was so flurried, but he murmured out "Oh, Peter, Peter, I am ruined"—I have not been asked that before—Peter Keefe was a couple of yards from me.
CHARLES HUNT . I am an Inspector of the Royal Arsenal—the prisoner was on duty there on this night and he came into my office between 10 and 11 o'clock followed by Keefe and by Newton who carried an ingot of tin in his arms and said "Four ingots of tin were found concealed in the coal bunker in the lavatory yard this morning, I received directions to have them watched during the day and when the workmen left at 9 o'clock this evening I concealed myself with Keefe behind a furnace and at 10.30 I heard some person coming, and I could tell by the walk that it was a policeman, he came up and walked into a coke bunker and put up his hand, and I saw his hand moving among the coals, he walked away into the lavatory-yard and halted and came back again, took out this ingot in his arms, and was walking back to the tap, and we rushed out and I said "What have you got there?"—he said "I was not aware what it was, I was taking it to the light to examine it"—he also said "I saw it there last night and was watching it"—I said "If you were watching it why did you take it out?"—he said "I was not quite sure what it was, I saw the metal there last night and I took it out and was taking it to the light to examine it—I said "You did not report having found anything last night which you should have done if you had"—he said "No I did not as I thought I should have been suspected of having put it there"—it was his duty to have reported it the night before—I took the light and Newton picked up this key which fits the padlock which secures the hole in the wall—he had no right to have such a key—there are seven keys; three of the inspectors have them, the superintendent has one, and there is one at each of the three gates in the lobby—the prisoner would have access to the key kept at the gate—the seven keys are safe, this is not one of them, it is a different metal, it has been filed—it is really a skeleton key.
Cross-examined. It was between 11.30 and 12 o'clock when we went with the lanterns—the key was not on the ground it was on top of the annealing. furnace—he brought the ingot with him and pointed out the place to me—it was on the outer sheet of iron which extends about 6 inches so that it would have 4 or 5 inches to fall—it was not represented that any language was addressed by Keefe to the prisoner or by the prisoner to Keefe on any occasion—Keefe did not say that the prisoner muttered "Peter I am ruined"—about sixteen constables are on duty in the Arsenal at night including the prisoner and there is an engine man besides—there is one watchman who keeps up the fires in the lavatory department, all the rest are policemen—it was a bright moonlight night—the prisoner's beat was in the part where the lead was, and every night except Saturday, the door was open and he would have access there—I have only been there eight months—the prisoner did not report to me that he had found any of the padlocks loose—my predecessor was not there, he was six. months sick before I went.
Re-examined. The prisoner had the same beat all the week on night duty—he was relieved at 4.30 by another constable—he was the only constable who entered the lavatory room.
GUILTY — Five years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Baron Cleasby.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH REED . I live with my father and mother at 12, Stanhope Street, Deptford—I am 15 years old—on Sunday night, 14th February, I went to bed with the girl who is dead, Mary Ann Simms—she was turned 13—I went to bed about 11 o'clock, the public-houses were closed, her brother and sister and my mother were also in the bed—there were five of us all in one bed—the prisoner afterwards came in and fell down on the floor—I am no relation of his, only a friend, but I went and slept there that night in the same room in which the prisoner slept and lived—he was tipsy, he had been drinking ever since Christmas time—there was a paraffin lamp on a small table close to the bed, it was alight, but it was turned down—the prisoner got up from the floor, and was making a row, speaking to himself, we asked him to go to sleep, and not to wake the people in the house up—he went to the table and turned the lamp up as high as it would go, which broke the glass, and he blew it and set it all alight, it was smoking and in a blaze, he took it in his hand and tried to blow it out, but that made it worse, and when he found it was alight he threw it on the bed where we laid and set it all alight—there was a pail of water under the bed and he chucked the water, pail, and all into the bed, and then walked away and was not seen any more—he made no further attempt to put the fire out—the girl who is burnt was next to the table, and I was next to her—we all ran out and screamed, and fetched Mr. Wood's son and another young man, and they put the fire out—the deceased's night-dress caught fire when the lamp was thrown down—a woman took her into the next room, and we did not think she was burnt so badly as she was, and afterward they rolled her in blankets and took her to a doctor.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not put the blaze out, Walter Wood put it out—the water did not put out the flame.
Prisoner.' Wood put the flocks out, but I put the blazing sheet out before I went out of the room.
DINAH SIMMS . I have been living for some fourteen years with the prisoner as his wife—the girl who is dead was my daughter, she was the eldest of eight children—she would have been 14 next June—on Sunday night, 14th February, I went to bed with three of my children and Elizabeth Reed about 11 o'clock—I cannot tell how long I had been in bed before the prisoner came in—he was intoxicated and he fell down on the floor, he laid there a short time—I think he intended to get into bed, but he fell—it was almost dark, and he got up and turned up the lamp which was on the table as. high as he could, and then he took it in his hand and the flame smashed the glass which flew all over the table—he said "B----the lamp, I can't put it out"—he blew it and tried to put it out, but he was not capable of doing it, he was too much intoxicated, and he threw it on the bed, it set fire to the sheets—the deceased was lying near the table, and the sheets set fire to her—not having the presence of mind we hallooed out instead of getting away—the prisoner picked a pail up and threw it over the bed, and then walked out without doing anything
else to put out the flames—I did not see him again till 4 o'clock, when he was lying in the passage, but how long he had laid there I do not know—Mr. Wood's son and another young man came in and put the fire out, but the flocks of the bed could not be put out, they burnt all night.
Cross-examined. You tried to put the blaze out but you did not, you were too drunk—the table was quite close to the bed—I do not wish to say that you did it on purpose, because you are fond of your children.
HENRY WILLIAMS . I am house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on Tuesday, 16th February, Mary Ann Simms was brought in by the last witness severely burnt on the front and back—the burns were extensive and of a dangerous character—she was treated with every care in the hospital, and went on well for a week, when lock-jaw ensued, which I can trace to the burns and to no other cause—she died on 25th February from lock-jaw.
THOMAS DEAN (Policeman R 102). On 2nd March I took the prisoner in New Cross Road, Deptford—I told him the charge; he said that he knew the child was dead, and he was very sorry he was the cause of the death of it.
Prisoner. I don't remember saying that I was the cause of the death of it; I remember saying "I am very sorry I let the thing fall on the bed."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "It is not reasonable that I should take the life of my own flesh and blood; it was an accident."
Prisoners Defence. I fetched the lamp to see to make my bed, which was upon the floor, and turned it up to make it burn brighter, and the glass broke. I tried to put it out, and let it fall I never saw anything burn so quickly; all in a minute the bed was in a blaze. I got a pail of water from under the bed and douted the blaze. I saw that my child was taken to a neighbour's house, and the mother then locked the door and took the other children with her, and I was in the streets four days and four nights, and on the 5th I went to Croydon, as I had no place to go to. I afterwards went to Deptford again and heard she had gone to the hospital. A cattle drover gave me a job, and we took some cattle to Hazlemere. I then went to Guildford, where a man told me that my child was dead, and that the detectives were looking for me. I walked all night to Deptford, where I was taken in charge. I never had any ill will towards any one, and I always loved my dear children, and would sooner be burnt myself than they should be. I have not got that upon my conscience. I have plenty of grief to know that my poor little creature met with such grief by burning; I am in grief all day long about it. Either of these witnesses who are against me might have had the same accident, because the bed and the lamp were close together. I wish to be punished, but not for throwing the lamp over the child. I did not throw it there, it fell there, but being in drink, I do not want this to be an excuse for me; I loved my children too well to kill them.
GUILTY.Recommended to mercy by the Jury — Three Months' Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
292. MARY ANN GATES (18) , Unlawfully exposing her male child, aged eleven months, whereby its life was endangered. Second Count—Whereby its health was likely to be permanently injured. Two other counts—For abandoning it.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
—on 27th March, about 12 o'clock at night, I was on duty at the signal box at Plumstead—I heard the cries of a child on the opposite side of the line—the-station master came out of his house and called me to come across the line, and I went with a lamp—I found a child lying outside the railway fence—it was lying on its stomach crying—I took it to the signal box—about 5 o'clock the nest morning the prisoner came to the station master's house—I went to her and asked her if the child was her's—she said "Yes"—I said "Why did you leave it all night"—she said she had given it to a woman to mind, and the woman had given it to a girl, and the girl had laid it down there, and she pointed to the place she said the girl told her—I said "If the girl told you why did not you come and take it away?"—she said the girl had not told her till the morning, and she had had no peace all night till she came to me for it—I sent her to the station; it was a cold night when I found the child.
HENRY PHILIPS (Inspector R). About 2 o'clock on Sunday morning, the 28th March, a child about eleven months old was brought to the station by a constable—about 5.15 that morning I met the prisoner in Powis Street, Woolwich—I said "Where are you going so early this morning?"—she said "I am going to the police-station to fetch my child"—I said "How do you know your child is there?"—she said "Because I do know"—I said "Have you been in bed all night?"—she said "Yes, but I could not sleep"—I said "I shall charge you with deserting your child and abandoning it by the side of the railway"—she said "How could I desert it when I saw a man pick it up and take charge of it; I should have taken it home, but I was afraid my father-in-law would not take it in"—I said "How did you account to your mother for it?"—she said "I told her it was dead."
GUILTY on the two last counts—Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Recorder.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
HOWARD PLEADED GUILTY , also to a previous conviction**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. C. MATHEWS the Defence.
(The prisoner had been previously tried for this, offence, but the Jury then being unable to agree were discharged without delivering a verdict.)
CHARLES RUNNEGAR (Policeman R 88). I was on duty on 19th February, in the New Cross Road, Deptford, at about 1.50 a.m.—on passing The Royal Albert, I heard a noise as if money were being taken out of the till or put in in, and I waited a short time and met Howard, with the prisoner coming out of the door—I pushed them both back, and Howard said "All right policeman"—I said "Wait and we will see the landlord"—the prisoner commenced kicking me—I laid hold of one in each hand, and all three went over—after struggling up again we went over a table—the prisoner put his hand under my coat to lay hold of my person—he then made his escape, leaving his necktie and hat behind—
I dragged Howard out of the door, and hallooed "Stop thief!" as I thought one of my mates might be coming down—I took Howard to the station and searched him, and found on him 12s. 6d. in silver, 5s. 7 1/2 d. in coppers, and 4¼d. in farthings—he said the silver money was his, but the copper money was the landlord's—on the occasion in question there was a light in the bar, on, a stand underneath, as if for hot coffee or tea—I don't know which—I turned the light full on their faces—I gave evidence against Howard, at the Police Court—the same as I have given to-day—the prisoner was not before the Court then—while giving evidence I saw Montague in the body of the Court—I knew him directly by his face—he was wearing the same coat as he had on that night—not the same as he is wearing now—I had a good view of him, and I am positive that he is the man—I had not seen him or known him before.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was not taken into a separate room at the Police Court—only into a doorway to let the people pass—that was not for the purpose of fitting on the hat which I had found—I took him out of the station; he asked to have the hat tried on—it was his own wish and I succeeded to it—the hat was tried on in my presence—it was a fit, but a little large for him—that is my opinion of a fit—no scar was looked for; that I swear—oh, yes, scars and bruises were searched for but not found—I do not know that Howard was brought in for identification—he was not in my presence—it was on the 6th March that I first mentioned about the light in the bar—when first examined I did not mention that I turned my bull's-eye on—information of the burglary was given at the police-stations the same morning, and circulated throughout the whole of the R Division—all the policemen in that division would be thoroughly well acquainted with the fact that there had been a burglary—we fell several times—I believe before. the Magistrate I only said we fell once—there is no mention in my first deposition of the light in the bar, but there is on the 27th—I did not say there was no gas in the bar—Montague raised his right fist—I held them both by the neck, Howard in one hand and Montague in the other—I did not take either by the arm till I took them to the station—I was upon the ground at the time the prisoner escaped—as I fell I held each by the neck—I am perfectly accurate as to its being his right fist that the prisoner raised—did not see Orford until after I got the other prisoner to the station, about twenty minutes after—I did not see Draper till the next morning. (The hat alleged to be prisoner's was produced and tried on him, when it appeared large). He has had his hair cut.
Re-examined. When I gave evidence on the first occasion it was against Howard—I took him at the time, and there was no question as to his identity—that is the reason I didn't mention the light—when the scar was looked for on the prisoner's head, I did not know of any—there was gas burning in the house besides my bull's-eye.
WILLIAM HENRY WILLSON . I am the landlord of the Royal Albert public-house, New Cross Road, Deptford—about 12.20 on the morning in question I fastened up the house and saw the windows closed—at about 2 o'clock I heard a noise downstairs for full ten minutes before I went down—my bed-room is at the back of the house, and the billiard-room is over the bar—I stood on the landing and then went down and found the constable with, not the prisoner, but Howard, outside on the pavement struggling together—I was undressed, and went upstairs to dress; I then went to the station with the policeman and Howard—I missed 10s. or 12s. in silver, and 2s. or
3s. worth of coppers; the tills had been cleared, but I had left that for change in the morning: it was all gone—they must have entered the house by getting up the portico and getting through the middle billiard-room window, which I had fastened over-night—it was wide open—we have a stove and stand in the bar with ten or twelve jets—that was burning and burns every night, and outside the door there is a lamp that was burning on that morning.
Cross-examined. I closed the window myself—it was the billiard-room window that I found open.
FREDERICK ORFORD (Policeman R 249). I was on duty in the Mornington Road, Deptford, on the morning of the 19th February, about 400 yards from the prosecutor's house—I saw the prisoner about 2.10 walking along with his hat and scarf off—he passed me on the same side of the road—it was a moonlight night, a very light night, and I could see him distinctly—I did not know his name or where he lived; I had seen him once before, I dare say about two months before, in company with a young lady, walking in the New Cross Road—the prisoner is the same man I saw.
Cross-examined. I don't know who he was walking with; I have seen her now, Mrs. Perriman; and she is the same person I saw him walking with—I didn't know where she lived then—I do now; in Vance Street—I have been there once—on the 27th February, with Draper; I saw her then—I did not have any conversation with her, Draper did; I stood by and listened—he did not ask her whether she knew her young man was in trouble, in my presence—it was not said at all, that I heard—I was not standing close by—Draper was there to make inquiries—I went into the room—I was at one end of the room and Draper the other—I did not hear anything pass—they walked up in the corner of the room and talked privately—I was present at the police Court when the charge was made and the hat tried on, and the scar looked for—I do not remember' a man being brought in for the purpose of identification—I do not know of anyone being brought in—Howard was in the Court.
JOHN DRAPER (Policeman R 172). I was on duty in the Lower Road, Rotherhithe, on the morning in question, and I saw the prisoner about 2.20—he had a dark over-coat on, with pockets on the hips, no hat on, and the coat collar turned up—I spoke to him—he was walking in the footway—I said "Is anything the matter?"—he said "No"—I said "Where is your hat?"—he said "I have left it at my brother's"—I said "The wind is blowing bitterly cold this morning, you will get cold in your head"—he said "No, I shall not; I shall be home directly"—he went towards Rotherhithe—I was at the Police Court when Howard was brought before the Magistrate, in plain clothes, standing in the body of the Court, and the prisoner came and stood by my side, and I knew that he was the man who had passed me on that morning, the 19th February—I knew him the moment he came into Court—I saw him leave the Court when the charge was read over and disposed of—the Usher of the Court said "The night charges are all over "and the prisoner turned round to go away—Runnegar was in the witness-box—I saw him look across into the body of the Court, and the prisoner turned round to go out of Court, hung his head down, and said "I am twigged"—he was in company with two other persons—when he was taken into custody they went away at once—he is the same man I saw.
Cross-examined. I was examined at the Police Court on the 6th March, and I was examined here yesterday—I think I mentioned yesterday that
Runnegar looked towards the body of the court—I did not say so on the 6th March—f know now where Mrs. Perriman lives—I have been to her house—I went there on the 27th February, on the evening that prisoner was taken into custody and saw her—I spoke to her—I had no conversation—Orford went with me and he was inside the room and heard all that passed—we did not both speak in a loud tone of voice—there was not the least privacy in the conversation—we were in what they call the kitchen—I did say to Mrs. Perriman, Well, Lizzie, have you heard your young man is in trouble?"—I didn't know that he was her young man—that was the first question I put to her, and she replied "Yes, I have, and it is a shameful thing"—she said she would do all in her power to have him defended by a solicitor—I did not say I thought the money would be wasted knowing she was badly off, and that he had no chance of escape—I said she could do what she liked—I did not say it was very silly—when the prisoner referred to his brother he did not say he had only just come from his brother's—he appeared to be recovering from the effects of drink.
Re-examined. I did not know where Mrs. Perriman lived till I went there on the 27th—I had instructions to go there—I did not tell her the charge against the prisoner, merely that he was in trouble—I cannot tell you the time at all.
By THE COURT. I had instructions from my superiors to go to make inquiries, and I went with Orford and made inquiries—my speaking of prisoner as her young man was a guess.
CHARLES CHAMBERS (Policeman R 254). I was on duty on the 19th February in the Wootton Road, Deptford and saw the prisoner about 2.15—was walking along the road—he had a dark over-court on, it appeared k that night—there was a moon—he had a handkerchief up to his head I appeared as if under the influence of drink—he went towards Rotherhithe.
Cross-examined. He was on the footpath.
GRORGE WALLIS (Policeman R 332). I was on duty on the morning in question in the Lower Road Deptford, at the corner of the Wootton Road, and saw the prisoner there—he was walking in the direction of Rotherhithe, on the opposite side, and passed me under a lamp—he had no hat—it was about 2.15—the prisoner is the man I saw.
RICHARD UPTON (Policeman R 235). I was in Greenwich Police Court during the examination of Howard at the time that Runnegar was giving evidence—I saw the prisoner there, I was close in front of him—I observed Runnegar when giving evidence look round the body of the Court and I heard the prisoner make a remark to another man standing by—he said "I also twigged"
Cross-examined. I was standing in front and Montague behind me standing the body of the court.
FREDERICK ORFORD (re-called). It was about two months after I saw them together that I knew Mrs. Perriman's address, not till the 27th February—I did not know her before then—I had not seen her between the time I saw them together and the 27th.
Witness for the Defence.-
ELIZABETH PERRIMAN . I am ordinarily called Lizzie Perriman—I live with the prisoner as his wife at 35, Vance Street—I moved to there on the monday, the 22nd, and the prisoner was taken on the following Saturday—before that I lived at Whittington Road, Peckham—I have lived with
prisoner for nearly three years—I saw him on the night of the 18th February—we parted about 8 o'clock or a little after—I left him at the top of Walpole Street, and he went to the Fireman's Arms—we previously made an appointment to re-meet at about 11.30—I returned to Walpole Street about that time, but he was not there, and I went to the Fireman's Arms and found him, and we returned home to 9, Whittington Road, arriving there about 12 o'clock—I had done three week's washing, and I went into the back room, and when I returned to the other room about 12.45 the prisoner was in bed, and I slept with him that night—I am certain he did not go out—we got up a little before 9 o'clock—I had given notice to leave that day when I did my washing, and that is the reason I remember the date.
Cross-examined. I have been living with the prisoner nearly three years, the whole of that time; not every month more than every six months—he has been away from me for as long as six months—I have gone by the name of Wilson; that is the name in the books at Greenwich—I am known by the name of Lizzie; I go out each night—the prisoner does not go in my company at that time; he always goes away and meets me again; that happens many nights—I am living at 9, Whittington Road, Peckham, at that time—it is about twenty minutes walk from Deptford—I do not know the distance—it was Thursday, the 18th, that I gave notice to leave—I gave the money for the week, but left the following Monday—I ought to have left on the Thursday—I remember the 18th by the fact of my doing the washing on that day—I gave a week's notice, but told my landlady I should leave before the day—I went into a new place on the Monday—it was the 18th that I went with prisoner—I never went with him to the Fireman's Arms—I called there for him—I have also gone by the names of Duggin and Harvey—Ada Clifford lives in the house where I now am, Anne Smith and Mrs. Robinson—in the house I was living in on the 18th only my landlady resided with me—I did not see her most nights when I went in—she was always in bed there were only her children besides—her husband had gone to sea—the children are about ten—persons never go home and spend the night with me—the prisoner and I always went home together every night; never without him since last September—we have gone home about 11.30 or 12 o'clock—the prisoner could always be found at the Fireman's Arms—we went to sleep on the night in question about 12.45—he was in bed then—we awoke about 8 o'clock next morning—I do not know anything about what took place between 12.45 and 8 o'clock.
By THE COURT. I know Orford and Draper, and they know me and my young man—they have spoken to me and asked me how my young man was, meaning the prisoner.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction for felony at St. Mary's, Newington, Surrey, on the 2nd March, 1874— Two Years' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
GEORGE GRAY . I live at 25, Addington Street, Lambeth—I was formerly in the police, I am now carman to Mr. Merewether—on 20th March, about 6.30 in the evening, I went to the Bell public-house, York Street, Lambeth, I found my brother Joseph there, Wright and two others, we were playing dominoes—in about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, McKeogh came in and created a disturbance with me, he wanted me to fight—I said I was no fighting-man—he said "I can fight you on my own merits to-day, I shan't fetch Handy Casey—he stood some minutes jangling with me and at last struck me—I got up and we had a bit of scuffle, and he had a little the worst of it, and he was put out of the house by the potman—after that I sat down again—about an hour elapsed when the five prisoners, came in—I knew them before, I had had occasion to speak to three of them on three occasions when I was in the police—Burns looked over the table and said "Can you fight him now"—I said "No, I can't fight four or five," with that he struck me in the face a violent blow, I got up with the intention of defending myself from the next blow, when they all set upon me like wolves; I was pulled across the table by the whiskers and the hair of my head which they pulled out by the roots, and I was struck by all of them—I saw a kick coming across the table, I put up my hand to save it, and the kick almost broke my hand, I could not say who the kick was by—I did not see any act done by any particular prisoner, I was knocked insensible almost immediately, I don't remember anything more than being out in the back-yard with Mr. Crook and his attendants—I was taken to the hospital and attended by Dr. Lucas—I had not given either of the prisoner the least provocation.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. The five prisoners came in together, I swear that—my brother and Wright and two others were sitting there—I do not know thenames of the two others, they are not here—I was sitting under the window in the tap-room, you can't see out into the street, nor can any body outside see into the tap-room—I had seen Michael Tynan scores of times—I can't say that I knew anything of him—I never had any quarrel with him—I did not see him on the table—I saw John Tynan on the table—I will swear that Michael was in the room when Burns struck me, I can't say in what part of the room, they were all on to.
Cross-examined by Burns. There was nothing the matter with my face before you struck me, no more than a little bit of black in the eye where McKeogh hit me, I had no plaster on it.
Cross-examined by McKeogh. I did not challenge you to fight a fort-night night before, and tell you to bring Handy Casey if you liked—this row occurred on the night of the boat-race—you did not come in and ask my brother to shake bands—I did not shake hands with you—I did not say if you did not sit down I would knock you down, I did not speak to you—struck you after you hit me.
came in, and he and the prosecutor commenced wrangling about something, and eventually McKeogh struck him—Gray got up, and they had a fight in the room, of which McKeogh got ever so much the worse, and he was turned out of the house by the potman—after something a little over an hour the five prisoners came in—I don't know which came in first—Burns reached over the table and struck Gray, and Burke pulled him over the table by his whiskers, and as soon as he was over the table they all set about kicking him and punching him in a most disgraceful manner—they kicked him all over the body—I noticed John Tynan get on the table and kick him in the head, and he was about to kick him a second time, when I pulled him off the table by his leg—the prosecutor's brother went for a constable—I saw a poker in the hands of one of the prisoners, which it was I am not prepared to swear, because it was such a scuffle—I caught the poker in my hands as it was about to fall on Gray, and Michael Tynan said "Leave go the poker, or we shall kill you"—I said " Kill away then, for I shan't loose it"—I was then got down immediately—I believe the poker eventually found its way into the potman's hands, I lost it as soon as I was thrown down—I went with Gray to the hospital and to the station—the other two persons who were with Gray went out directly the row commenced.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. The prisoners followed one another in, close on each other's heels—Michael Tynan did not come in long after the others—I did not see which came in first, I had my back to the door; they were all in the room in an instant—I was once summoned for an assault, and had to pay a fine; that is twelve months ago—I don't know whose hands the poker was in—I did not take it up, I could not—I was never near the fire-place—I was not going to strike anyone with it—I never had it in ray own hands clear, two or three had hold of it as well as me.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. The tap-room is about 13 feet by 14 feet—the table was not in the centre of the room; there are some narrow tables on each side with fixed seats behind them; the tables are not fixed; the table I was sitting at was 7 or 8 feet from the fire-place, that was the table on which John Tynan jumped; be jumped first on the form, and then on to the table, and I went directly and pulled him off.
Cross-examined by Burns. I did not say at the Police Court that you were the first that came in—you did not ask what game of dominoes we were playing—I did not hit Burke on the head with the poker and break his head—I struck anybody that I could—I had a black eye, but I did not mind it—I did not charge any of you with assaulting me—I said that I made good use of my time—I was not the first that picked up the poker from the fire-place, I was not near it; the table I was at was fixed with an iron column near the window—Gray had a punch in the eye in the first fight, and I sent for 1d. of something to put on it; it was not a plaister.
Cross-examined by McKeogh I did not take up the poker and say "Any man that comes near shall have a touch of this"—you all tried to get the poker from me' but you could not.
Re-examined. I did not interfere in any way until I saw the prosecutor pulled by the whiskers.
ROBERT ENSKULL . I am a potman at the Bell—about 7 o'clock on this evening, I was upstairs—I heard a noise in the tap-room, went down and found Gray had got a black eye, and McKeogh was bleeding from the nose and mouth, knowing Gray to be a peaceable man, and McKeogh the reverse,
I turned him out; in about an hour four of the prisoners came in and one other—I can't speak to Michael Tynan, they 'called for a pot of beer, which the landlord served them with, and they immediately went into the tap-room; I can't say which went in first—they all five went in together—suspecting their intention I followed them—I saw Burns lean across the table and whisper a few words to George Gray, which I did not hear, and he deliberately struck Gray, a tremendous blow on the side of the head—Gray tried to get up evidently with the idea of resenting it, and they all rushed at him—John Tynan jumped on the table and kicked him on the head—he was about to do so again when Wright pulled him off the table by his legs and threw him off—Burke seized a quart pewter pot, and was about to strike him with it; but I got it from him, when I turned round they had got Gray on the ground, kicking him about most beastly—I went to his assistance, otherwise the prisoners would now be answering a much more serious charge—I saw Wright on the ground with a poker—they were trying to wrest it from him—Gray partly crawled and was partly assisted out of the room by some persons who had opened the tap-room door—he was semi-insensible—I bathed his head and gave him some brandy—he bled a great deal—I took him into the yard—I had not heard him give the prisoners the slightest provocation.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. I saw five men go into the taproom—I can't say that I saw Michael Tynan, there at all—this all occurred in less time than it has taken me to recite it—I should think a minute or two was the limit; it was so quick that scarcely anyone could come to their assistance—I know Wright, I don't know how the poker came into his hands—I saw him trying to hold it, and two or three trying to get it from him—I did not see him take it up from the fire-place, and I durst swear that he did not.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT, I was close to the table when John Tynan jumped on it—Wright pulled him off on to the floor as he was about to kick a second time.
Cross-examined by Burns. You struck him first, and then you got him over the table and kicked him about like a shuttlecock—you all beat him indiscriminately and kicked him.
Cross-examined by McKeogh. You borrowed 3s. of me in the first place; I told you if you wanted a drop of beer I would let you have two pints a day and no more—I wanted to keep them away from the house—you have not paid me a beer score of 8s. or 10s. a week.
JAMES BROADHURST . I am and labourer, a live 2, Bell Court, North Street, lambeth—on Saturday night, 20th March, I was at the bar of the Bell by myself—I heard a noise and went and looked in the tap-room—I saw Gray on his back on the floor with his face all covered with blood, and his eyes seemed turning up as if he was dying—they were all round him like a hive of bees; I could not see which was doing their worst, they were all trying to do their best, paying him—I went up to them and said "Don't murder the man"—John Tynan struck me in the eye and very nearly blinded both my eyes—I had given no provocation—I don't know that I ever saw him before—I was kicked round my kidneys and shoulders and have not been able to work since.
JOSEPH GRAY . I am a stone-sawyer of 25, Addington Street, Lambeth—I am the prosecutors brother—I was with him on 20th March—McKeogh came in and said to my brother "I can fight you now on my own merits,
I shall hot fetch Handy Casey to you this time"—my brother said "I don't want to have anything to say to you"—there was a fight, and McKeogh was put out by the potman—in about an hour he came back with the other four prisoners, he came in first and the others followed him—Burns said to my brother "Can you fight him now"—my brother said "No, I can't fight four or five of you"—Burns then struck me in the mouth—we had not given them any provocation—I went out to get a policeman—I did not see anything done to my brother—when I came back he was sitting in a chair smothered in blood—I saw Burns strike him as I was getting out of the door—I took my brother to the hospital.
Cross-examined by Burns. You struck me in the mouth three or four times—I was sitting behind the door, I don't know what the others were doing—I was looking after myself—I did not strike you, I went at once for the police, I came back with the police in three or four minutes.
GEORGE ANDREW CROOK . I am landlord of the Bell—on this Saturday evening I saw Burns there, he asked for a pot of half-and-half, I did not see anything of this horrible fighting in the tap-room, they all got round the door and I could not get in—I saw four or five go in, I recognise Burns and Michael Tynan.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. I saw four or five with Burns—I swear to Michael Tynan—I did not know any of them before, I have only been in the house a few months.
THOMAS PENNINGTON LUCAS . I am a surgeon of 8, Mount Terrace, Hercules Buildings, Lambeth—at 10.30 at night on 20th March, I was called to 35, Addington Street—I found the prosecutor there in bed his face was almost like a mummy, his eyes were closed, he had two black eyes, his nose was swollen, and the right side of his face and cheek covered with erysipelas—he had also got a large cut on the left cheek right through to the bone—he had bruises on the head, one behind. the ear and on the arms and legs, and one on the right part of the chest—they were such bruises as might be caused by a kick—he was under my care up to last Saturday, he has recovered so far as to be able to go about, but he is extremely weak, he was very much shaken in his inside—I did not notice any serious internal injury except that he was extremely shaken—the danger externally was the erysipelas—I was obliged to keep him from going to the Police Court for some days.
By THE JURY. The erysipelas had set in within a few hours—that is quite possible, the account he gave me was that his whiskers had been pulled right out, that would create a redness and inflammation, and the blows would cause it to run into erysipelas.
Cross-examined by MR. REBTON, I told him he would be charged with. violently assaulting George Gray at' the Bell public-house, in York Street, on the 20th—he said "1 did not assault you, did I?"—that was all he said.
John Tynan received a good character.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. The Jury recommended Michael Tynan to mercy.
BURNS, JOHN TYNAN and BURKE— Five Years' Penal Servitude. MCKEOGH, Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. MICHAEL TYNAN Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
JAMES DIX (Policeman P 39). On 15th February, about 8 o'clock, woman came to the station—I sent a constable to No. 3, Henshaw Street, and the prisoner was brought to the station—I then went to the house and saw Myra Booth lying on the floor in a state of insensibility, with several marks on her head and face—she appeared to be seriously injured—she was bleeding very much from the wounds on the head and left cheek; the room was in great confusion—I found this fire shovel in front of the fireplace, inside the fender; it was exactly in the same state as it is now, it was bent, and smeared with wet blood—I returned to the station and told the prisoner I should charge him with violently assaulting his wife on the head and face with the fire shovel—he said it was a domestic affair, and had nothing to do with the police; her tongue was a little too long, and he supposed his fist was a little too hard; he gave her two or three smacks.
Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner before by sight—I know nothing against him; he has never been in trouble—I know he is given to drink; I should say he had been drinking when he was brought to the station—he appeared to be under the influence of drink—the shovel was lying in its ordinary place inside the fender.
VICTORY JACOBS . I am twenty-five years old, and am married—the prisoner is my father, and the prosecutrix my mother—I live in the next house to them, and my room adjoins theirs—on 15th February, between 7 and 8 o'clock, I thought I heard them quarrelling—I went into their room and saw my mother lying on the floor by the table, which was in the middle of the room—she was not sensible; she was bleeding from the head and face; her face was covered with blood—my father was sitting up on the floor, with one leg under him, a little way from my mother, between her and the door—I said "Oh, father, have you done this?"—he did not answer me; he seemed to be asleep; he was not leaning against anything—I said again "What have you done, have you done this?"—he did not wake up of answer me—I then hallooed out for the police, or some one to come—before that I asked him if he would go to bed, so that I could get some one; to see to my mother—he woke up then; he tried to get himself up, and he fell down again, and as he tried to get up he pulled his leg out and tried kick mother—I don't think he did it on purpose; she was close to him—laid hold of him and said "Father, what do you mean to do, do you mean to murder mother?"—he raised himself up and said "Yes; I will"—I laid hold of him and pulled him round by the bedstead, to get him away from the side of mother, and ran down stairs and had a fit.
Cross-examined. 'He has always treated my mother kindly—he had been drinking very much on this day—when he tried to get up it seemed that he could not do so because he was so drunk,he had had a deal of spirits all the morning—I don't believe he knew what he was doing.
By THE COURT. The noise I first heard was, I thought, quarrelling only in words; I did not hear any words—I did not hear my mother at all; I could hear very plainly in the next room, I am not certain that I heard either of them, I could not have heard, it must have been fancy, because
when I went up this was done—I thought they were quarrelling because they had been drinking all the morning—I did not hear any calling out, or any cry of murder or police; I did not hear any cry—I have heard them quarrelling before, they have had a word or two when they have had a drop—I often used to go in, to get my work for one thing—I don't like to hear them quarrelling, and if I was to go in they would not quarrel; they never quarrelled unless they had something to drink; they have had a few words then; I believe he has struck her before—I have not seen him strike her—I have seen him push her down, not often—I never saw him kick her—there were three or four chairs in the room, I don't know where they were when I went in—I did not see the shovel, I did not look about the room, I was too frightened at seeing my mother lying there—she was bleeding a great deal—he did not try to kick her more than once—he did kick her when I pulled him up off the ground, he was sitting down at the time, trying to get himself up.
MYRA REYNOLDS . I have been living with the prisoner as his wife for some years—on 15th February, I was out with him during the day, we had been drinking, we had no quarrel, I went home by myself—I don't know whether he came in afterwards, I sat down in the chair by the fire, and I must have dozed off to sleep—I do not recollect anything until I found myself on a stretcher and taken to the infirmary; that is the truth—I don't recollect the prisoner coming home—I don't know where I left him; we went out in the afternoon; we had been at home in the morning, we were drinking at home, rum and beer, a little nephew fetched it—I don't think we had any dinner, sometimes I don't have a bit of anything to eat; it was according how we felt, he is not a great eater more than me; I can't say at what time in the afternoon we went out—we went to a neighbours in Rodney Place—I think we had a-drop of ale and a drop of rum there, and then I went home—Rodney Street is not far from our house, I don't know whether I left the prisoner there or in the street coming home—it was not dark when I got home.
Cross-examined. He had been working for Messrs. Ross & Co., army accoutrement makers—he is a skilled workman—he might earn more than 30s. a week if work is good; sometimes he wont earn that—we had both been drinking at this time.
JAMES JACKMAN (Policeman P 424). About 8 o'clock on the evening of 15th February, I went to 3, Henshaw Street, to a room at the top of the house—I saw the last witness sitting in a chair, with her daughter leaning over her—she was bleeding very much from wounds on her head—the prisoner was then in bed, pretending to be asleep, he had the clothes covered over his head—I unfolded the clothes from him and tried to wake him, but he turned over and would not look at me; I told him I should take him into custody for knocking his wife about—he asked me what for—I had pulled him out of bed before that; he was quite undressed, with only his shirt on—I asked who had inflicted the wounds, the daughter said her father—he said he did not do it—he asked me who I was—I told him I was a constable in plain clothes—he said if I did not go out of the room he would throw me down the b----—stairs—I persuaded him to put on his things and go quietly with me, which he did—he put his hat on, I don't know who put on his clothes, I did not see, I was too busy with the woman—her face was covered with blood, and she was bleeding very much from the head—he walked with me to the station, it was about a quarter of a mile; I had hold of his sleeve,
but did not assist him in walking; he looked as though he had been drinking, but was not drunk; there was blood on bis hands, and the room was covered with blood in different places, clots of blood about the room—the room was in confusion—the chairs were up in one place, and the table up by the window instead of in the middle of the room, and his tools were all about the room; the woman was insensible; the daughter said that he was in the habit of getting drunk and knocking her mother about, and she took no notice when she heard them quarrelling—on leaving the room the prisoner said he would b----—well murder her, and he wished he had done so—I found this fire shovel in the room, there was hair and blood on it, and it was bent to the shape of her head, as it is now, it was inside the fender—I did not notice any place in the room where they kept coals—there was blood on the leg of the table near the fire-place—the table was between the window and the fire-place, where the pool of blood was.
Cross-examined. It is an ordinary sized room, about 9 by 12 feet, and the prisoner had no doubt been drinking a good deal during the day.
HENRY MORRIS SIMMIONDS . I am a surgeon, of 66, Camberwell Road—I was called in to examine Myra Reynolds, at the house, on the evening in question, about 8 o'clock—the police were there—she was lying on the floor drunk, wretchedly dirty and badly clad, with a cut mouth, blackened nose and eyes, that appeared to have been done with something blunt, as a fist, she had a cut on her left cheek, four cuts on the right side of her head, one on the cheek-was a deep cut about half an inch long, it went right through the flesh, it was such a cut as might have been inflicted by the; edge of this shovel, as were also those on the side of the head—the longest did not exceed an inch, the others varied from half an inch; one seemed to have exposed the bone, it had cut through the skin covering the bone, it did not go to the bone—there was no evidence of contusion about the head—I don't think that could have been done with the shovel; I saw the shovel, it had hair and blood on it—you can see the blood now—the woman was insensible, partly from drink—the blows must have been very violent, the weapon is light—there was danger from erysipelas or future injury to the bone, she is not well yet, but I think she will recover all right—she appeared to have been drinking very considerably.
Cross-examined. Some of the blows appeared to have been done with the fist, and some with an instrument—some of those on the head might have been caused by a fall against the edge of a fender or something sharp, not againt the edge of a table, I dont think it could have been done so, the wounds were close together as if done by repeated blows—I examined her body—I found no evidence of kicks or bruises—I did not see the prisoner.
JAMKS DIX (re-examined). It was about 7.45 when I received information, and the prisoner was brough to the station about 8.15—I did not ask him any questions—I saw him—he knew what he was about that time, he talked reasonably and sensibly—it was 9 o'clock before he was charged, and then he made the answer I have stated.
GUILTY on Second Count — Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
NOT GUILTY .
300. JANE CRANE (17), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Sarah Wolf, and stealing one teapot and other articles, the property of Albert Jacob Heron, and one teapot and one table-cloth, the property of Sarah Wolf.— Judgment Respited.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SIMMS the Defence.
ROBERT DAVIS (Detective Officer L). At 8.45 p.m., on 5th March, I was with Dales in Lambeth, and saw the prisoner leaving the Peasant public-house, he went across to the Mitre, and I went after him and took him by one hand and Dales by the other in front of the bar—his left hand was clenched, I told him that I was a detective officer and had suspicion of him—he said "I have got nothing"—I said, "No, you have dropped it"—I had pressed his wrist and he was bound to let it go, a man named Clamp picked it up and gave it to me; it contained forty-one bad sixpences in a piece of rag," just twisted round—I took him to the station—he said "I did not have it.
Cross-examined. Four or five persons were in the bar, none of. them are here, the prisoner was not lifting a glass to his mouth when I caught hold of him, nor had he a glass before him—I saw no one go out at the time I caught hold of the prisoner—his left side was towards the bar, and I was between him and the bar—Clamp was close to him and Dales on his right.
SOLOMON DALES (Detective Officer L). I was with Davis and saw the prisoner leave the Peasant and go to the Mitre—I seized his right hand and Davis told him he believed he had counterfeit coin in his possession—I saw the prisoner drop a packet from his left hand, which Clamp picked up and gave to Davis.
Cross-examined. I was behind the prisoner—Davis was on his left side, and Clamp stood at the bar.
FRANK CLAMP . I live at 4, Crosier Street, Lambeth, and am a private inquiry officer—I live about 100 yards from the Mitre—I was there on 5th March—I had been there two or three minutes, and was leaving when I met the two officers; they asked me to go back, and I did so, as I knew them before—they seized the prisoner, and I noticed something drop from his left hand, which I picked up and handed to Davis; it was a small rag containing sixpences.
Cross-examined. The prisoner stood with his side to the bar, I should say—he was not drinking a glass of ale when I went back; there were pots on the counter.
Re-examined. I did not meet the officers by appointment.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. C. F. GILL conducted the Prosecution; and MR. C. MATHEWS the Defence.
JOSEPH DANIELS . I live at 31, Harding Street, Commercial Road East, and am a wood-turner—the prisoner is my daughter—I was present at her first marriage in 1859, with Thomas Hegley, at St. Thomas's Church, Stepney—she lived with Hegley after the marriage until he deserted her—
I saw him last Christmas, two years, and I have seen him in Court to-day.
Cross-examined. I lost sight of him for nine or ten years after the marriage—I made enquiries for him, but could hear no tidings of him at all.
By THE COURT. My daughter might have known that I saw her first husband about two years ago—I cannot say "Oh, yes" she knew it then.
GEORGE HENRY BROWN . I am potman at the Duke of Wellington, North Street, Whitechapel—on 20th October, 1873, I was married to the prisoner at St. George's Church, Camberwell—I was in a gentleman's service where she was housekeeper, eleven years ago—I courted her for four months—she never told me she was married.
Cross-examined. At the time of our marriage, she was living in Bronte Place; she rented the house; she had not much furniture when I married her—there were two rooms of furniture, and I put what I had, to the value of about 30l. to it and made it a comfortable place—I lived with her about thirteen months before I left—I only left her during that time for a week to go into the country—I swear that—it would be about November, 1874, that I first discovered she had been before married—I took proceedings as soon as I knew it—I left her and went to the situation where I am now—I locked her up—I cannot say exactly the date—about three weeks ago—I did not take proceedings until she came bothering me at my business—she used to come and wave the marriage lines in front of me—the delay would have gone on if she had not troubled me—I should never have troubled her—I believe all the furniture was in the house when I left it, that I found there—there was a piano missing—I did not go to her for money in any instance—the piano was not sold by me—no article of the furniture was ever sold by me—had I known she was already married I should not have taken her into church to make her my wife.
Re-examined. She came to annoy me three times—she came for money—I refused her and she turned round and called me everything but a man, and insulted people she had never seen before, and I gave her into custody.
DAVID HEBELTHWAITE (Policeman). The last witness gave the prisoner Into custody—some time in March, in the Whitechapel Road—he handed me these two certificates (produced) and said this woman had married him, and that she had been married before, and he wished to give her into custody—I told her she would have to go with me to the station—she said "It is quite true what he says; I have been married before and he knew all about it, because when I got married I gave him 6l. to have advice as to whether it was legal or illegal to marry again."
Witnesses for the Defence. WILLIAM THOMAS TYLER. I live. at No 4, Longport Place, Camberwell New Road—I am a leather-dresser by trade but I do not follow it—I am employed as a carman—I have known the prisoner and Brown for two years—I only knew Brown a few days before they married—he told me on several occasions shortly after the marriage that he knew the woman he had married was a married woman, and her name was Hegley, and that the husband lived in commercial Road East.
BY THE COURT. I lived with them nearly twelve months, and he said that on several occasions.
Cross-examined. He said that she was a married woman, and that the
husband lived in one of the turnings out of the Commercial Road East—not the father—Hegley—Brown represented himself to me as a publican—that he was going to many a woman who had 1,500l. who had been in service where he was coachman—after I left the trade I went as carman, and I went and lived with them, and he told me be knew she was a married woman and he did not care for that because she had 1,500l. coming to her—he stated this in the Wellington—I never took any further-notice of it until I heard he brought the woman here—I suppose he brought her here to get rid of her now that he has exhausted all the furniture she had—she had about 150l. worth of furniture—I have had no quarrel with the prosecutor to my knowledge—he has never disguised the fact of this first marriage—I told Brown and her several times that they ought not to have married—I never spoke to anybody else about it.
SARAH HAINES . I live at Bermondsey with my husband, who is a mariner—I know the prisoner and the man Brown; he knew quite well that prisoner was a married woman, he told me that before the marriage—she had a house well filled with furniture—nothing was said by Brown about the value of the furniture—I believe there was some money coming.
GUILTY — Four Days Imprisonment.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MAY 3RD, 1875.