CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIRST SESSION, HELD NOVEMBER 22ND, 1875.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
SESSIONS I. TO VI.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, November 22nd, 1875, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM JAMES RICHMOND COTTON , M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Right Hon. Sir JAMES ALEXANDER COCKBURN , Knt., Lord Chief Justice of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; The Hon. Sir JOHN WALTER HUDDLESTON , Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, ESQ., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., JOHN CARTER, ESQ., Sir WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE , Knt., Sir THOMAS GABRIEL , Bart., Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., Aldermen of the said City; Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN , Esq., Sir THOMAS WHITE , Knt., WILLIAM MCARTHUR , Esq., M.P., JOHN WILLIAM ELLIS , Esq., JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., SIMEON CHARLES HADLEY , Esq., GEORGE SWAN NOTTAGE , Esq., others of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., Judge of the Sheriff's Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
COTTON, MAYOR. FIRST SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two star (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) the they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
OLD COURT. Monday, November 22nd, and eight following days.
Before Lord Chief Justice Cockburn,
[assumed: see original trial image]LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
1. HENRY WAINWRIGHT (37) and THOMAS GEORGE WAINWRIGHT (30), were indicted for the wilful murder of Harriet Louisa Lane in a second count Henry Wainwright was alleged to have committed the murder, and Thomas George Wainwright was charged as an accessory after the fact. A third count stated the deceased to be a woman unknown.
THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL with MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. BESLEY with MESSRS. STRAIGHT, TICKELL and GILL appeared for Henry Wainwright, and MR. MOODY for Thomas George Wainwright.
JOHN BUTLER . I am deputy surveyor to the metropolitan police force—I know the premises 215, Whitechapel Road, they are on the right hand side going from London—this model (produced) is a correct model of the premises made to the scale of a quarter of an inch to one foot—it also embraces Mr. Pinnell's and Mr. Wiseman's premises—it extends back to the back of Mr. Pinnell's premises, and goes beyond at the back into Vine Court which is shown here, and so are the outbuildings—I have also got a ground plan of the premises made to scale, showing the exit from Vine Court in this direction—it is in fact a chart of the immediate locality—I have taken it from the Ordnance Map; it shows the premises 215, and 84, on the other side of the road, and Sidney Square and the neighbourhood—I also produce a model of the Hen and Chickens which I made myself—this is a model of the cellar of the Hen and Chickens—the only entrance to the cellar is down these stairs, and when you get into the cellar there is no window or any light, or any access whatever except down the steps—at the bottom of these stairs there is an inner cellar of brick work, and a hole in the brick work of about 2 feet 6 to 3 feet, which I believe has always been there from its appearance—it is long enough for a person to creep through—I got through it—in the inside there was a large quantity of loose earth, and there are props propping up the inside of the shop as shown here—this shows the way down stairs at the Hen and Chickens which leads from the shop to the first floor—this is the entrance to the
shop, and the cellar is under this part—the only entrance is down here, and the only entrance to the shop is one of these small doors in the shutters—this is the ground floor, and here is a plan from London Bridge to the back at the corner, close to the Hen and Chickens.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. If you advance to the extreme end of the Hen and Chickens you see the way down the stair-case—there is no door to the stairs going down to the cellar.
By the COURT. It appears that when the props were put up to support the floor they excavated some of the earth to make the foundations for the props—that is what I mean by loose earth—they left it and did not remove it afterwards.
ALFRED PHILIP STOKES . I live at 34, Baker's Row, Whitechapel, and am a brush maker—in September this year I was in Mr. Martin's service as manager, at 78, New Road, Whitechapel—the prisoner Henry Wainwright was also in his service as a manager—I was in the service five or six weeks, and Henry Wainwright about eleven weeks before the particular Saturday—I have known Henry Wainwright between seventeen and eighteen years—he carried on a brushmakers business formerly at 84, Whitechapel Road—that was the shop at which the articles were sold—I worked for him away from the premises, and used to take my work home to the shop—I have worked for him on and off for between seventeen and eighteen years—I know the premises 215, Whitechapel Road as a packing place—a man named West used to live there first—I am speaking about the time when Wainwright had the premises—West was his chief clerk and lived there—West left somewhere in July, 1874, after which the premises were unoccupied so far as to persons living there, but they were used for packing premises down stairs—they remained unoccupied as a residence till Rogers went there in November, 1874—they were shut up at night, and I believe the keys were always put in the counting house at No. 84, until the fire—Henry Wainwright went out of business about a month before he went into Mr. Martin's service, he then told me that he lived at School House Lane, Chingford, but I never went to his place—on the Thursday or Friday before Saturday, 11th September, 1875, I told him that I had bought a chain for the scales (we were then in Mr. Martin's shop)—he said "Oh yes, it is very useful," and then he said "I have a chopper and a shovel to sell likewise, which will be very useful," I said "So they will, sir, as we require them for the place"—nothing more was said at that time—we were at work on the Saturday afternoon about 6.30 in Mr. Martin's presence, and he said "Will you carry a parcel for me, Stokes?"—I said "Yes sir, with the greatest of pleasure" we then left together and went to 215, Whitechapel Road—we went in at the back through Vine Court—he took a key out of his pocket and opened the door—we both went in and he asked me to go upstairs and fetch down a parcel—I went upstairs underneath this part, and through by the sky light into the dwelling rooms—that was 80 or 90 feet from the spot where we came in—I looked for the parcel but could not find it—I went down found him at the furthest end of the place, and told him I could not find any parcel—he said "Never mind, Stokes, I will find them where I placed them a fortnight ago, under the straw"—there was some straw there, not in the corner but just on the stone work—as you enter from Vine Court there are some flag stones—I saw the straw up in a corner and saw two parcels tied round with rope and some black American cloth—he said "These are the parcels I want you to carry, Stokes"—I lifted them up and
I says "They are too heavy for me, sir," and I put them down again—he said "Wait a bit Stokes, here is the shovel and the chopper that I want you to sell for me"—they were lying on the floor and a" hammer also—(he had told me that he wanted me to sell them to Mr. Martin, my employer)—I said "All right, sir," and I picked up the axe—that is what I call the choppes—I said "What is this, sir, it stinks?"and I saw some mess on it—he said "It is only cat's or dog's dirt," and took his hand wiped it off, and then wiped it on a piece of newspaper and laid it on the floor—then he said "Come along Stokes," and I went to go to the door, and picked up both the parcels and said "They stink so bad and the weight of them is too heavy, for me"—he said "I will take one off of you at the bottom of Vine Court"—as I walked to the door he said "Wait a bit, Stokes, let me see if old (or Mr.) Johnson is a watching us"—I know Johnson, he is a decorator in the Mile End Road—his premises do not overlook the place—he was not there then, but he generally was there on the look out when anything was being removed—I have often seen him there—he then said "All right, Stokes, no one is looking, come on"—I had the two parcels in my hand and carried them out of Vine Court into Whitechapel, where he took the lightest one off of me—we walked to Whitechapel Church, which was about a quarter of a mile—while we were going along I said "I shall have to rest, sir, it is too heavy for me, I cannot carry it"—he said "Oh for God's sake don't drop them or else you will break them"—when we got to Whitechapel Church he said "Mind those parcels Stokes, while I go and fetch a cab"—I said "All right, sir"—he went for a cab and put his parcel down by the side of mine opposite Blyth's the wire workers—while he was away I looked at the largest parcel, the one I carried myself; I felt as if I must do it—I opened it, and the first thing I saw was a human head, and then proceeding further I saw a hand which had been cut off at the wrist, and then I had the presence of mind to kiver it up again quick and wait till Mr. Wainwright returned with a four-wheeled cab—I had been left with the parcels about five minutes before he came back—he then asked me to help him to the cab with the parcels, which I did with a little hesitation—I put one parcel in and Mr. Wainwright put the other in at the bottom of the cab, and said he would see me in the evening at my place—I said "All right, sir," and then he got in the cab—it drove off up Church Lane towards the East India Docks—he was not smoking when he got into the cab, he was when he got out—I heard him give the order to drive to the Commercial Road—he said "Round to the left"—the cabman drove down Church Lane which leads to the Commercial Road—the cab turned to the left—we were at the top of Church Lane at the time—I saw them to the corner—Church Lane leads to the Commercial Road—turning to the left leads away from the City—the cab went on as far as the chemists shop in the Commercial Road on the left—I ran after it and it stopped outside the chemists shop—I know the neighbourhood; it is by the Plumbers Arms close by Greenfield Street, and about 70 yards from the end of Church Lane—when the cab stopped Henry Wainwright got out and walked towards the West India Dock, away from the City—I saw a young woman called Alice Day meet him, and he accompanied her back to the cab, after talking with her for about a minute—she was standing at the corner of the street as if waiting for him, and then they both got into the cab—I was hiding in a doorway opposite—he said to the cabman "Drive on as fast as you can over London Bridge to the Borough"—he turned his head round directly to the City way, and I ran
after the cab until I saw two constables by Leadenhall Street—I called their attention to the cab as I was then exhausted, but they laughed at me and said "Man, you must be mad"—I called to them to stop the cab—I did not tell them why—I could not speak at the time—the cab was then 30 yards ahead of me, I ran after it again; it went by Leadenhall Street and Fenchurch Street over London Bridge and stopped outside the hop factory on the right hand side of the Borough, which is part of the premises of the London Joint Stock Bank—you can see the Hen and Chickens pretty well from there, by standing a little on one side—I saw Wainwright put not his hand which caused the cab to stop at the entrance—he got out and took out the lightest parcel and went towards the Hen and Chickens—I told two constables Turner and Cox, No. 48 and 290; I said "For God's sake run after the man with the high hat with the parcels in his hand, there is something wrong," and Turner done it instantly—I then told Cox and he went to the cab—I told Turner not to touch him, but to follow him and see where he was going with it—Cox spoke to Alice Day but I could not hear the words—I saw Turner follow Wainwright to the Hen and Chickens on the other side—shortly afterwards Wainwright returned and went to the cab te get the other parcel, but I did not see what he did as I ran back to my employer, Mr. Martin, knowing that they were in good hands—when he spoke about the shovel and chopper he said "Ask him to buy them in the presence of me, and I will say that they are very useful"—I said "How much shall I ask for them"—(I have stated this before)—he said "Will you call for them on Monday morning, Stokes?"—I said "All right, sir, how much shall 1 ask for them I"—he said "I will leave that to you"—I was to say that they were my own and sell them in my own name—this was said both at Mr. Martin's and at the other premises—I have known Alice Day between three and four years—she was employed at the Pavilion Theatre, the front entrance of which is next door to 84. Whitechapel Road—she was ballet girl there—I have seen her with Henry Wainwright many and many a time in public-houses, and walking out together in the street—I had seen him with her in the Commercial Road I believe a fortnight or three weeks before—I remember Thomas Wainwright coming in and out of the shop in Whitechapel Road when he was only a young man—I knew him as the brother of Henry—he used to keep the Hen and Chickens in the Borough—I have been outside the door very many times waiting for Mr. Wainwright—I do not know where Thomas lived in September 1874, or in September last—I had noticed a smell for a few months before the 11th September—I should say it was in June or July this year—it was supposed to come from the rubbish in this corner close to the paint room, which is under the warehouse—the rubbish was dirt and cabbage leaves which had been lying there for months and months—I spoke to the clerk and to Titiens, the porter, about the umbrella—I-was not in Wainwright's service; I was employed by him—I made up the work and took it home—I then noticed the smell, but I did not notice any particular time, because I always put it down to the rubbish—the rubbish was not removed till after this was found out.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I have done work I and my father for seventeen or eighteen years for Wainwright, always working out of the house—I knew that he lived in Tredegar Square—he lived at Chingford as nigh as possible nine or ten months—he went from Tredegar Square to Chingford—for the last three mouths in taking home goods I went to the
premises three tires a day—if I took them to 84, I used to take them to 215 to have them peaked—I did not go to 215 to receive the materials—I received them from 84 until the time of the fire, and then from 215—the fire was on the 27th November, 1874—sometimes I have been at 215 two or three hours waiting for a job, and at 84 at all hours of the day while business was going on—I am familiar with the warehouse premises 215—when the place is open there is a glass front, an ordinary shop front; both the shop fronts were more like gates—they both used to be opened as a kind of warehouse; you could see from the street back to the end of the warehouse if the warehouse doors were open—on entering the shop you could see direct to the back of the warehouse; it is not fitted up as a shop, but was all shelves—there are gates half way down which admit light—it is full 80 feet from the Whitechapel Road to the back of the house, and it may be more—in the day time owing to the circular sky lights at the back of the warehouse you could see all over it, except at the side where the stone flagging is, but you cannot see that because it went in a nook, and you cannot see into the paint room—the stone work which was raised up was by the paint room—there is a recess like a fire place there—you cannot see where the stones were raised, from the street—from the glass skylight it would be exceptionally light at that part; there are three sky lights, and they have gaseliers, the first is a two branch burner, and the next the same, and one had an eight branch burner, but only six of them admitted lights, so that you may call it a six light burner—there is also one gas light in front of the shop as you go in—there is most light at the furthest end of the warehouse—I have not the least doubt that I was at No. 215 in September, 1874—the "gas lights were lighted every evening when the place was open, but sometimes it used to be closed at dusk—the ordinary time of closing was 8 o'clock—after the fire the business was carried on at No. 215—I should think I went to 215 twice a day in September, 1874—Titiens was porter there and Vostius was clerk, they were pretty well always there—Mr. Rogers used often to go out, because he was traveler—I did not go to the back part of the warehouse as much after September, 1874, as before; I never went to the back part till we took the fixtures out—I was Mr. Martin's manager some months, and then I went to be my own master—I served Mr. Wainwright's brother—I should say that 1 ceased to work for Henry Wainwright about the latter end of June, 1875, as nigh as possible—I left Mr. Martin about eight weeks before the particular Saturday—Henry Wainwright was manager at Mr. Martin's at the same time I was, he looked over one side of the way and I the other—Mr. Martin had three establishments, with his own trade as well—I found Henry Wainwright working for Mr. Martin when I went there five weeks before the 11th September—I have mentioned before to day that I noticed the smell at 215, I thought it arose from the cabbage heap and I don't know any otherwise—the fixtures at 215 were sold to Mr. Martin, and I was present when they were taken away—I can't exactly fix the date of that—I believe it was the latter end of July or the beginning of August—I believe it was in August—it was after I had ceased to do work for Wain-wright, and whilst I was foreman to Mr. Martin; I did not take any notice of the smell then, because I had very often smelt a disagreeable smell before, and 1 knew the rubbish was there and thought it was from that—I was examined before the magistrate on 13th September and 13th October—I don't know that I mentioned Johnson's name on 13th September—I
don't think I mentioned about Henry Wainwright speaking to me about the chopper and spade—I believe I did mention about his saying "All right, no one is looking, come on"—I believe I said it at the Treasury—I know I did say it, whether at the inquest or at the court I cannot say—what he said was "Wait a bit, Stokes, let us see if Mr. Johnson or old Johnson is looking, for he always is if we are doing anything"—perhaps I did not say that before—he said "I wonder he is not watching us as he always is, and he told me to wait to see if he was watching"—I have stated before to day that when I first took up the parcels they stunk so bad, and the weights was too heavy for me—they did smell very bad—I thought it was hair till I got up to Whitechapel Road, because we had been talking about hair on the way to 215—I said either at the inquest or before the magistrate that whilst I was carrying the parcels I said to Henry Wainwright "I shall have to have a rest, it is too heavy, I can't carry it"—I can't say on which examination it was, but I know I said it—I have not been to the Treasury since 1 was bound over before the Magistrate, nor has any one been to me—I have not had any writing put into my hand—I have never seen this model till to day, till it was in Court—I noticed when I went upstairs that the place was quite empty, except an old umbrella—I said I could not say—whose umbrella it was, I was never asked particularly whose it was—I was asked whether it was the umbrella of the lady I had seen talking to Mr. Wain-wright, and I said, I could not tell.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I was seventeen or eighteen years in the employ of Henry Wainwright and his father—at the time I first went to the father Thomas Wainwright was quite a young chap—at that time Henry Wainwright was working in the business with his father; he was a young man then—there is not so much as ten years difference in age between the brothers; not above six or seven I suppose.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I think the father has been dead twelve or thirteen years—after that William and Henry carried on the business as partners—after they ceased to be partners Henry and Mr. Sawyer carried it on—Mr. Sawyer came in about November, 1873, and they dissolved partnership in July, 1874—after that Henry had the place to himself, and carried on the business at both places until the fire—there are gates or folding doors at the front of 215 with a sort of fan-light over the top—when you get in at the front there are no doors to go through; it is all open space right to the end—at the end of the warehouse where the sky lights are, there was formerly a paint shop partitioned off from the rest of the room—the flooring of the paint shop was a little raised from the rest of the floor, one step; it was not used to keep paints in, but for storing painting brushes in; it is called a paint room in the trade—there was a door in the partition leading from the body of the warehouse into the paint room—on the right as you go in there is a door leading into Vine Court—a little way in front of that doorway the place was flagged—the partition was there when I worked for Henry Wainwright, but it was pulled down—I believe in June or July last, when Mr. Rogers was there—when the fixtures were sold to Mr. Martin the remainder of the fixtures were left, and the gas fittings—there were two lots of fixtures taken away; the last lot were taken away about August, and the first late in June or the beginning of July that Wainwright bad been taken away; the partition was there then, but not at the time the last lot was taken away; it had been removed—I don't believe it was part of the fixtures there—what had been the paint room was open to the
rest of the room—the flooring of the paint room was boarded, and so was the rest of the warehouse, except the part that was flagged—that was at the furthermost end—the floor of the paint room was raised a little, and then the stone work of the other place was ris higher still—on entering from Vine Court you would first place your foot upon some flagging which extends a few feet from the entrance—that flagging is a little above the floor of the warehouse, and there is a fire-place in the warehouse, about the center on the right—when I spoke about hair I was referring to hair that we use in our trade, pig's bristles—if they are not cleaned and dressed they smell rather peculiar, but not quite so bad as that did—we do not use size; we use pitch or glue—I thought the parcels contained hair.
Court Q. Was anything said to you by Henry Wainwright with reference to those parcels that led you to think they contained hair? A. Yes; as we were going on the road to 215 he said to me, "We want some hair for so and so." I said, "Yes, we do sir." He said, "Well we must get it on Monday, or else the men won't be able to finish the work. "That had no reference to the hair at 215, but I thought it was hair for all that.
HENRY TURNER (Policeman M 48). On Saturday evening, 11th September, at 5.4, I was on duty in High Street, Borough, at the corner of St. Thomas Street—whilst there the witness, Stokes, spoke to me; he seemed very much exhausted, he had his hat in his hand and perspired very much in the face; he made a communication to me, in consequence of which I went up to a cab which was just drawing up; the cabman was just commencing to rein up at the corner of Southward Street—I went up to the cab, I saw Henry Wainwright get out of the cab really before it had stopped, he was carrying a parcel in his right hand—I walked a little way down on the other side of the road to see where he went; I saw him go into an empty, house called the Hen and Chickens; he put the parcel down on the footway, took a key from his pocket, unlocked the padlock, and went in—I then went back to the cab, which was then about 45 yards from the Hen and Chickens—Cox 290 came up—there was a female in the cab who I now know to be Alice Day, and there was a parcel on the front seat tied up in American cloth with a large string, it was about 18 inches long and about 9 or ten inches wide—I spoke to the female and had some conversation with her—Cox stood behind the cab—I joined him—I waited till-Henry Wainwright came out, I could see him come out from where I was standing, he put the bolt on the door and came and walked straight on towards the cab—he did not lock the door, he had the padlock in his pocket, he was smoking a very large cigar; I did not observe whether he had been smoking before, his back was towards me at that time—he went to the off side of the cab, the side nearest the street, and opened the door and took out the parcel with his left hand—I said "What have you got there, sir"—he said "Why do you interfere with me, I am only going down to an old friend of mine"—I walked alongside of him under the Town Hall until we got to the Hen and Chickens, the door was shut, but the padlock off—he seemed to want to pass by it—I caught hold of him and we stopped—I said "Do you live here?"—he said "No"—I said "Have you got any business here?"—he said "Yes, and you have not"—I said "Go inside"—he seemed very reluctant to go in—Cox then joined me and we pushed him inside—when we got inside I said "How came you in possession of this place, I thought it belonged to Mr. Lewis?"—he said "So it does now, say nothing and ask no questions and there is 50l. each for you"—I had him inside at this time—Cox then barred the door, there was a bar
inside, there was no fastening—we walked a few steps down the shop together, he had the parcel in his left hand all the time—I said to him "What did you do with the first parcel that you brought in here"—he said it is only on the first floor—I told Cox to go up and see if he could see it—I had hold of the prisoner then—we walked down the shop together about half a dozen steps when I saw the parcel in a dark corner on the cellar steps—I then called Cox down and said "Get hold of this man and I will see what is in the parcel"—Cox took hold of him and I went and put the parcel on an old counter en the left hand side of the shop; it was then I perceived what a dreadful stench it was—before I proceeded to open the parcel Henry Wainwright said "Don't open it, policeman, pray don't look at it, whatever you do don't touch it"—I then pulled the cloth over and my fingers came across the scalp of a bead, across the ear—I found that it contaned part of the remains of a human body—I then got hold of the prisoner and Cox went to get the ceb, which at that time was still in the same place—the prisoner said "I will give you 100l., I will give you 200l. and produce the money in twenty minutes if you will let me go;" he said nothing more—the cab was then brought up to the door, Cox put the first parcel in, the prisoner was still holding the second parcel in his left hand all the time, from the time he took it from the cab till it was taken from him by Cox—Cox came back for it, and as he went to take it from him the prisoner threw himself round as if to throw the parcel away from him—they were put into the cab and the prisoner also; the woman was still in the cab—we were then all driven to the station—from the place where the cab was first drawn up you could see the Hen and Chickens by standing 2 or 3 feet out in the road, from the back of the cab, not if you stood on the footway—from where the cab stood to the Hen and Chickens was between 40 and 45 yards—on the way to the station the female said to the prisoner "Mr. Wainwright, you have done a fine thing for me," or words to that effect, to which he made no reply—the parcels were put down in the yard at the station, they were found to contain portions of a female body much decomposed; the features were not recognisable, the hair on the head was very much clotted with blood, lime, and dirt—Mr. Larkin, the surgeon saw them and they were taken to St. Saviour's dead-house the same evening after Mr. Larkin had seen them—at the station Henry Wainwright and Alice Day were placed in the dock and were charged with having in their possession a human body decomposed, supposed to be murdered—they both made a statement which was taken down by Inspector Fox in writing—I saw a black leather bag in the cab, it was an ordinary black travelling bag, it was empty; I did not notice whether there was a newspaper in it, as far as I know it was empty.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. When Henry Wainwright took the second parcel out of the cab I said to him "What have you got there?"—he laughed and said "All right, policeman, I am only going down to a friend of mine"—when I mentioned Mr. Lewis's name he offered to go to Mr. Lewis.
ARTHUR COX (Policeman At 290). On Saturday, 11th September, a few minutes after 5 o'clock, I was on duty in High Street, Borough—Stokes drew my attention to a cab—I went to it and saw a woman sitting in it, and a parcel on the front seat wrapped in American cloth; also a black leather bag—Turner said something to the woman—in a short time as I was standing near the cab; I saw Henry Wainwright coming from the direction of the Hen and Chickens, smoking a cigar—he came up to the cab, opened the door nearest the pavement, and took out the parcel that
was on the front seat—Turner asked him what he had got in the parcel—he took his cigar from his mouth, laughed and said "All right policeman, I am only going to a friend of mine"—he then turned round to me and said "Why do you interfere with me"—I was standing on his left side, and Turner on his right—I said "We have received information that what you have got in that parcel is wrong"—we all three then walked towards the Hen and Chickens—I went within about 10 or 15 yards of the door of the of the Hen and Chickens, and then turned back towards to the cab; I saw another policeman 310, and I left him in charge of the cab and the woman—I then joined Turner and Henry Wainwright, at the door of the Hen and Chickens, they were having some altercation, and I heard the prisoner say "No, perhaps you had better"—we then pushed him inside the shop door, the door was partly open at the time, a little wicket door; when we got inside Turner said to the prisoner "How did you come into possession of this place, it used to belong to Mr. Lewis"—the prisoner said "Come with me to Mr. Lewis, and we will soon settle the matter, say nothing, ask no questions, and there is 50l. each for you"—I said "No, we are going to do our duty, and we don't want your money"—I then said "Wait Turner while I fasten the door," as there was a crowd outside—I picked up an iron bar that was lying on the floor and placed against the door as there was no proper fastening on the inside—Turner then said "Will you tell me where the other parcel is that you brought in here—the prisoner replied "It is only on the first floor"—I went up five or six stairs when Turner said "Come down Cox, here it is in the corner"—I came down and took hold of the prisoner, and Turner went and lifted the parcel on to an old counter oh the lefthand side of the shop—the prisoner then said "Oh, for goodness sake don't touch it"—twice I believe he repeated "Don't touch it"—Turner partly pulled the oil cloth open—we found it contained some of the remains of a dead body—I then sent 324 to bring the cab down to the door; I remained inside—I heard nothing further said Turner, and the prisoners were at the extreme end of the shop—the prisoner and Alice Day were taken to the station with the parcels—I ultimately conveyed the parcels to St. Saviour's dead-house.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The head of the cab horse was pointing down the Borough—the cabman was not on the box then, I saw him get down, he was standing on the pavement, near the horses' head; 10 or 12 yards more would have brought the horses' head beyond the line of buildings, 3 or 4 yards would not have done so; 10 yards might.
Tuesday, November 23rd.
WILLIAM ANDREWS . I am a cabman, living in Pearl Street, Spitalfields—on 11th September, I was on the rank in High Street, Whitechapel, whilst there a gentleman beckoned me—it was the prisoner Henry Wain-wright—I followed him—I pulled up at the corner of Church Lane; I saw a young fellow there, but did not take notice of him—the gentleman put the parcels in; there were two parcels and a bag—this gentleman got in after the parcels and told me to go on till he told me to stop—he stopped me in the Commercial Road, and got out; he came back shortly with a female—they both got in and he told me to go over London Bridge till he told me to stop; he stopped me at the corner of Southwark Street, in the Borough—got out, took a parcel out and walked away; I did not see where he went—two policemen came up and looked in the cab—afterwards the
parcels were put in, the prisoner, the female, and the policemen, and I drove them all to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I did not know what the charge was when the parcels were put into the cab in Whitechapel Road, I was on my box—where they were taken out in the Borough, I was standing by my horse's head.
ALICE DAY . I live at 8, Queen's Court, Greenfield Street, Commercial Road—before 11th September last, I was at the Pavilion Theatre—I had been there in the ballet for some years—I have known Henry Wainwright, about five years; I first became acquainted with him at the Pavilion Theatre, behind the scenes—I have sometimes gone with him to have some refreshments—I have sometimes gone to the theatre with him—I have not been alone with him on all those occasions—other girls belonging to the ballet have very often been with me—on the afternoon of 11th September, this year, about 4.50 I met Henry Wainwright at the corner of Greenfield Street; I did not meet him by appointment; he was walking; be asked me if I would go for a ride with him as far as London Bridge—I said "Yes, if he would bring me back about 6.15"—he said he would; I had to go to the theatre at that time—we went into a four wheeled cab that he had waiting—there were some bundles and a black travelling bag in the cab on the front seat—the bundles were in black American leather—we drove away—I don't remember whether the horse's head had to be turned in order to drive in the direction of London Bridge—we drove over London Bridge—we were not talking as we went along; he gave me a newspaper to read out of the bag; he was smoking a cigar—he only said "Don't speak to me, I am thinking"—the cab stopped in the Borough—I did not notice anything peculiar about the parcels—I perceived a smell, but I thought it was the American leather; when the cab stopped he got out and took one of the parcels with him—he said "I am going round the corner to take this parcel to a warehouse, and if it is open I will come back for the other"—after he had gone, some policemen came up to the cab, and they afterwards took Henry Wainwright and me to the station with the parcels and bag—Henry Wainwright knew where 1 was living; he had been to my house several times—I have seen Thomas Wainwright; I had known him about twelve months; I should think not more.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Henry was an ordinary acquaintance—there was never the slightest impropriety between us during the whole of the five years—I was constantly going to the Pavilion—I earned my living in that way and dress-making—Wainwright's shop, 84, was next door to the Pavilion—I was not aware that he had a contract with the police—I have been present with him with other ballet girls more than half a dozen times in the theatre and outside—I was frequently in and out there—I don't know what his business was in the theatre—I heard that he supplied the proprietor with brushes and mats—my interviews with him were not longer than a quarter of an hour—I have taken refreshments with him sometimes in the theatre, and sometimes outside in a public house in Baker's Row near the stage door—the young ladies have very often asked him—I have never been with him alone more than a quarter of an hour—I think not more—on the 11th September I was standing on the pavement outside a public house at the corner of Greenfield Street—I could be seen some distance off—I did not think the smell in the cab arose from anything but the American cloth—I made no observation about it Henry Wain-wright
was a great favourite with the actors in the theatre, and also with the proprietor.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I have been to the theatre with him about three times, not more—I went to Covent Garden once; I don't know the others—I was alone with him there—I went to the Grecian theatre, but I was not alone with him then; I had a young lady from the theatre with me—I don't remember what theatre it was I went to with him the third time; it was not the Pavilion.
By THE COURT. When I was outside the public house in Greenfield Street I had just left one of the people from the theatre there—I had not been standing there a minute—I had only just come out and was going to cross the road.
MATTHEW FOX . I am a Police Inspector—On Saturday the 11th September last I was on duty at the Stones End police station, Southwark, when Henry Wainwright and Alice Day were brought there with the two parcels and the bag—Turner said to me "Mr. Fox here is a man and woman with two parcels; I think they are wrong"—I said to Henry Wain-wright "What are in those parcels and where did you get them"—he said "I do not know what they contain, a gentleman gave them to me to carry"—I took them into the yard adjoining, opened them, and saw that they contained portions of a body—I sent for Mr. Larkin, and he examined them—he then made some statement to me, and I directed Henry Wainwright and Alice Day to be put into the dock—I said to them "I will charge you with having the remains of a female in your possession believed to have been murdered," and I asked him for his name and address he gave it me as "Henry Wainwright, 78 New Road, Whitechapel; will you send for my friend Mr. Martin, you will find him at 78 New Road, and I will tell you in his presence how I became possessed of these parcels"—I went myself for Mr. Martin—I did not bring him back to the station; he came in the meantime before I arrived; Stokes had fetched him—I found him there when I returned—Henry Wainwright and Alice Day were again placed in the dock and charged as before—Henry Wainwright made a statement which I took down in writing—this is it: "Yesterday week, I think, a gentleman known to me for some time by meeting him in public houses, asked me if I wished to earn a pound or two. I said' Yes, I am always willing to make money, or something of that sort. He said 'I can put a sovereign or two in your way.' I then enquired how, and he said 'By taking two parcels over to the borough.' I said it was a big price for so small a job. He said 'Take them over, ask no questions, and here is a couple of sovereigns for you.' I said 'If you make it 5l. I will take them' then he agreed to give me 3l. He gave me the key and told me to take them to the Hen and Chickens, an empty house in the Borough. He brought them to me, put them on the pavement and I brought them over. That is the account I give of the possession of them"—Stokes was at the station at that time, but the prisoner had not seen him—Alice Day afterwards made a statement in Henry Wainwright's presence which I took down. (This statement being objected to was not pressed by the Attorney-General). After that I searched them—I found on Henry Wainwright twenty-seven keys—the parcels were removed to the dead-house at St. Saviour's Church—I took charge of the American cloth and the rope—I have measured the cloth; there is exactly two yards, and the rope measures seven yards or a little over, knotted, cut in pieces—on the same evening I
went with Stokes to 215 Whitechapel Road—we went in at the back entrance in Vine Court—Stokes took me there and pointed out the door, and with one of the keys that I had taken from Henry Wainwright I opened the door—as you first enter there is a stone flagged floor, and 1 saw a little further on a small chopper wropped in a piece of newspaper, also a spade, a hammer, and an open pocket knife—it is a common pocket knife—I produce it—this (produced) is the axe or chopper, which is a common little axe—I noticed nothing on the knife; on the chopper there was a deal of matter—it smelt strongly, similar to that of the body—this is the spade (produced) which is a new one; it was marked with lime and clay, covered with lime and clay and some hairs—I think there is some on it now—at the extreme end of the warehouse the floor was raised a few inches higher than the rest; that was the original construction of the floor—I found some boards loose, I took them up and found that some of the joists had been cut—I was induced to look there by finding the boards loose, and also by a smell which attracted my attention to the spot—I took up three of the flooring boards and found that four of the joists had been cut upon which they rested—the joists rested on the earthen floor, they were not fastened to the boards—I saw then that the earth underneath was mixed with chloride of lime—I did no more on that occasion—I put the boards back again, locked the door, put a policeman in charge and left; it was then light—next morning (Sunday) the 12th, I went to the place again and made a further examination—I had all the loose earth removed, and found that earth had filled a grave 5 feet long and 2 feet wide, and 2 feet deep, and I found the mould in that grave to be very largely mixed with chloride of lime—I picked up one lump amongst a number of others as a specimen—I found some hair amongst the earth, and took a specimen of that, it was human hair of a light colour—I have part of it here—I saw the hair that was on the body, and it seemed to me exactly the same colour—I have some of the hair here which I took from the body (producing it)—that portion has been washed since by the surgeon—I noticed that on the flags as you enter by the back door there was a large amount of rubbish on one side and straw on the other—on the part where the straw was it was raised; it had the appearance as if something had been concealed, or as if some person had slept in it, or as if some person had been covered with it—on the other end of the flag portion was about a cart load of ashes and other rubbish—I had the rubbish cleared away from the stones, and underneath 1 found red irregular blotches which appeared to me to be blood—on the ledges of the stone I found marks as if done with this small axe in chopping—there were cuts or indentations in the stone, and a small part was broken away—it had been recently broken, quite fresh—I found a piece of rope underneath the boards on the grave, on the loose earth—it was an ordinary piece of rope with a loop at the end which was cut—that was all 1 noticed at that time; I gave directions to have the place properly searched—I was there about two hours on Sunday morning—Inspector McDonald and detectives Forster and Newman were with me—I have two rings which I received from the detective Newman, also two jet buttons which I received from Inspector McDonald, and two earrings—I have also two jet buttons that I received at the police station from Mrs. Allen in Mrs. Taylor's and John Lane's presence; I have also a pair of boots which I got from a box in Mr. Lane's house at Waltham—I produce a pad which I got from Mr. Larkin, and also three bullets, one from Mr. Larkin,
and two from Mr. Bond—I also produce a padlock which I took from the door of the Hen and Chickens by direction of the magistrate, and I produce a key of that padlock which I got from Turner on the night of the 11th September—I went to the Hen and Chickens and went down to a cellar below—I found a quantity of loose earth there, I should say at least three cart loads in the inner cellar; that was after I crept through the hole.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The first words Turner said in Henry Wain-wright's presence were "I think this man and woman have got parcels, something wrong," the parcels were there; it was then that Henry Wain-right said "I don't know what they contained, a gentleman gave them to me to carry—it was after Mr. Larkin made a communication to me that I asked Wainwright's address, and he gave me his address" 78, New Road, Whitechapel, where you will find Mr. Martin"—I was absent about two hours before I came back to the station—I waited at 78 to search the premises—Stokes was not at the station before I went to 78, I found him there when I got back—I have a list of the things I found on Henry Wainwright (produced)—amongst them I found a pocket knife, it was an ordinary pocket knife—I have not said before to-day that my attention was directed to the loose boards by the smell—I was examined three or four times at the police-court, beginning on 13th September and ending on 13th October—I gave my principal evidence as to my visit to 215, Whitechapel Road, on 13th September—an ordinary constable was placed outside the premises—Newman and Forster were to be in the neighbourhood and to assist in searching—the hair I have produced was found by myself in the grave—I have not shown the stone to any stone mason; I showed the stains' on the stones to the doctors after we had cleaned and swept the rubbish off, they had dried up and were trampled upon and were then scarcely perceptible—I attended all the examinations both at the police-court and the inquest—I showed the earringsto Mrs. Taylor, Miss Wilmore, Mrs. Rogers, and to Mrs. Izzard at the last examination before the Magistrate Mrs. Izzard turned out to be the owner of the earrings—they had been shown to the previous persons for the purpose of identifying them as the earrings of Harriet Lane—I was present when McDonald found the buttons—I believe the burnt ashes in all the grates in the house have been microscopically examined, I gave Mr. Bond specimens of what I found there—McDonald searched the ashes—there was only one rate in the house, that had the appearance of having had a recent fire in it—I have not heard at all that Henry Wain-wright has made a confession to me, I have not seen a statement to that effect in the "Weekly Dispatch" newspaper; I have not had my attention called to it. (Mr. Besley read the paragraph as follows:" We understand that the prisoner Henry Wainwright has made several statements to the police which amount to a confession that he cut up the body of Harriet Lane but that he accuses his brother Thomas of being the actual murderer. It is owing to this circumstance that there will, probably, be a change in the form of the indictment against him, whereby the relative accusations against the two brothers will in part be changed, both being accused of murder as well as of being accessories before and after the fact.) There is no truth in the assertion that any confession has been made to me.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. The axe is a small one, such as might be used for cutting firewood; it is a cheap one; there are the trade marks on it of the person who sold it; that is also the case with the spade.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNET-GENERAL. This is the list of the things I found on Henry Wainwright: 3l. 10s. in gold, 12s. 8d. in silver, some copper money, a foreign coin, some pawnbrokers' duplicates, twenty-seven keys, a silver watch and metal chain, a tape measure, spectacles and case, aknife, rule, pencil case, two cigars, a pair of eyeglasses, a pocket handkerchief, and a memorandum book—the knife was an ordinary pocket knife—there was only one grate that I saw in which there were ashes, that was on the first floor in a room that appeared to be used as a kitchen—I don't recollect a grate in the warehouse—I went there first between 8 and 9 o'clock on the 11th September; it was very dark then; I had to procure lights—I did not light the gas, there was no gas there then, the fixtures had been removed—I had police lanterns and candles—a piece of velvet ribbon was handed to me by Mr. Larkin, I have it here—I got about 2 lbs. of chloride of lime from the grave;—this is one of the many pieces that I picked up, it was in a kind of cake—I could have picked up more; in one part of the grave it was nearly all pure chloride of lime—there are windows at that part of the premises looking into Vine Court, but they were always closed, made up with shutters; when I went there the shutters had every appearance of not having been removed for months, probably years, covered with cobweb.
By MR. BESLEY. The children could not look through the shutters, I could not see any space through which they could look; I do not think there were any fissures that could be seen through, I have tried myself from the outside and could see none; there was a policeman there who would not allow them to come there, I am speaking of the windows looking into Vine Court from the flagged part of the warehouse; they are shown on the model—there are two windows looking into Vine Court from the warehouse, the others are from the floor above—the shutters were on the inside and they had the appearance of having been kept shut for a long time.
JOSEPH NEWMAN (Detective Officer H). After the arrest of Henry Wain-wright on 11th September, I went to 215, Whitechapel Road, I got there about 8 o'clock in the evening—I was there before inspector Fox came—I did not search till he came—I was present when he searched and assisted—I found nothing myself on that day—I observed that a board was loose, and I and Foster lifted it up—I went again on the Sunday morning, about 12.30—I found nothing then; I saw Mr. Fox find the piece of rope—on the 16th I examined the loose earth and found this wedding ring in the mould that came from the grave; I put a mark on it, and gave it to Mr. Fox the next day, the mark is on it now—on the 17th I put the mould that came from the grave through a second screen, and as I was seeming it the keeper ring rolled down; I gave that also to inspector Fox; I did not mark that; I know this to be the one; I saw two jet buttons found by Mr. McDonald, on the 17th—on 9th October, I was again on the premises, and again searched the mould from the grave and found a human tooth—on Sunday, 10th October, I went again and then found a kneecap, I mean the bone, and what I believe to be a piece of the scalp with hair on it, and next day the 11th, I found another tooth—I gave them all to McDonald.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I spent a good deal of time there—on the first day we had candles and lanterns—in the day time it was perfectly light there from the sky light, sometimes children came round the door and looked through the keyhole—they were watching us through the keyhole, and there were fissures in the shutters, through which they looked, when we were at work there—I was present when the earrings were found
in the first floor back room, among the ashes, underneath the stove—I understand those ashes have been submitted to microscopic examination, the buttons were found in the ashes down on the floor; rubbish and vegetable refuse was mixed with the ashes; I call them ashes, as distinguished from the mould in the grave.
By the COURT. There was a sort of rubbish heap where the ashes and other refuse things had been thrown together; that was lying on the raised floor.
JAMES CONSTANTINE MCDONALD . I am chief inspector of the H division of police—I went to the premises 215, Whitechapel Road, and searched the ashes that were in the grate there, on 16th. and 17th September, I found in the ashes two jet buttons, about two yards from the grave—Newman put the ashes through a sand sieve screen, and what did not pass through the screen I turned off with a stick, and in turning it over I found these two buttons; I gave them to Inspector Fox; I noticed that the fasteners were in them, and they appeared as if they had been in the fire, they were cracked; the upper part is unbroken—I afterwards searched the upstairs room on the first floor, which is called the kitchen, found I there found two earrings underneath the grate on the hearth, among some ashes—I gave these to Inspector Fox, these are them (produced)—the ashes appeared to be ashes of wood burning, and I found a quantity of small wire in them, as if the backs of brushes had been burnt there—there were a large number of brushes about the place—some teeth and pieces of bone were given to me by Newman; I was present when they were found; I gave them to Mr. Bond, they were part of a kneecap, a piece of bone and two teeth.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I did not go with Newman, on the first night; I went on the Sunday morning, I did not commence the sifting until the 16th September—at that time the mould from the grave had been put into a separate and distinct heap, care had been taken to do that—I think the mould was sifted first, and after that the rubbish heap—the rubbish from the different parts of the house was not brought down an sifted also—that was examined casually, afterwards more strictly—the sample was taken from the grate; in which these earrings were found, and I gave it to Inspector Fox—he joists were cut on a slope, but at an angle, they dropped in and stood firmly—one or two of them were cut straighter than the others, and the others were cut a little on a slant—I can produce them if necessary—they were cut at each end—each joist would require two sawings to get out the piece; I examined the boards that were over this part, they were not very clean, they were the same colour as the rest of the floor—I examined to see if there were any nail marks, and there were, and the nails were in the boards that were taken up from the flooring, which rested on the joists.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The boards had been nailed to the joists in my opinion; I found four nails in the boards, the boards ran lengthways exactly across the paint-room—there. was a small paint-room at the extreme end of the ware-house—the boards ran across in the direction from the front of the paint-shop to the back wall, lengthways of the ware-house—they were laid on the ground and the boards ran from side to side in the room—the joists appeared to have been cut for the purpose of enabling the ground to be removed—the excavation in the ground could not have been made without removing the joists—it. could not have been
excavated with an ordinary shovel—it was only to the extent to which it had been excavated that the joists had been removed.
EDWIN ALLEN . I married a daughter of John Lane—on 20th September I was at Mr. Lane's house, the father of the deceased—my wife is a sister of the deceased Harriet Lane—on 20th September I was at Mr. Lane's house, Jesamine Cottage, Waltham, and saw Mr. Lane open this stay box (produced)—it contained a variety of buttons—I took possession of two jet buttons and brought them up to London, and gave them to Mrs. Taylor—they were on a card, but one is just off now—these are them (produced)—I know them by the card and by the way that they are linked on to the card—there is nothing remarkable about them, but I know the way they were fastened on the card—I did not see them put on the card, they are just as they came out of the stay box—the writing on the card has been written since I handed them to Mrs. Taylor—this is the stay box, I did not see anything in it but the buttons—Mrs. Lane handed me a parcel of papers and I found in it five envelopes—this is one of them, (produced) it has a letter inside it—I found the envelope, but I did not look inside it, and the letter was not found till I had left Mrs. Taylor's—I gave it to Mrs. Taylor as I found it.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I have one envelope here—I do not know where the others are—I did not look inside them—I only speak to handing them over.
Re-examined. Mrs. Lane gave me a parcel of papers which contained five envelopes—these are them (produced)—I gave them to Mrs. Taylor, my sister-in-law, just as I got them—I did not look inside them.
ELLEN WILMORE . I am single and live at 36, Maryland Street, Stratford—I am a milliner and dressmaker—I knew Harriet Louisa Lane, she was brought up as a milliner, and was apprenticed with me at Waltham Cross, to a Mrs. Bray, in 1866—I know her family very well indeed; she left Mrs. Bray on two occasions, on the first occasion she stayed about two years, and on the second about the same time I think—I do not remember her coming to live in London—I first knew Henry Wainwright in 1872 in the name of Percy King—I first met him at Temple Bar with Harriet Louse a Lane, who I then knew as Mrs. King—I believe she was living somewhere in Bedford Square, but I do not know exactly—I afterwards knew her living in St. Peter Street, Mile End Road, as Mrs. King—she had a child born there in August, 1872—I did not know who Percy King was then, but I afterwards knew him as Wainwright, a brushmaker, of 84, Whitechapel Road—I took charge of her first child at Mr. Wainwright's request—when I met him at Temple Bar he told me to take the baby and he would pay me 1l. weekly, and to take every care of her—I had had the child three weeks at that time, and had received 12s. first; it was a very delicate child—I was to pay the doctor—no reason was given for my having the child—it was three months old when I had it—Henry Wainwright paid me for it as Mr. King, sometimes once a month, and sometimes once in six weeks—I kept it until the Christmas following—she had another child born on 3rd December, at 70, St. Peter's Street, Mrs. Wells', and then she wrote to me at Christmas, and asked me to take her first child to her as she would like to keep them both, and I did so—I think she lived at Mrs. Wells' till May, 1874, I cannot quite remember the date—I used to visit her there, she still living as Mrs. King, and she told me who Percy King was—from there she went to live at Sidney Square, Mrs. Foster's, still living as Mrs. King, and having
the two children there and the monthly nurse—I went there to see her several times, generally on Sundays—on 3rd August, 1875, she wrote to me and I went, and circumstances detained me there till September 11—she wrote to me to take the two children, but as I had not seen Mr. Wainwright or made any arrangement with him, I did not take them—I slept and lived there altogether from 3rd August till 11th September—the nurse left before I went there, and we had a little servant—I did not see Percy King once—only one gentleman visited her, and his name was Edward Frieake—I only saw him for half a moment—I know that that was his name, because Mrs. Foster opened the door of the sitting room and announced him as Mr. Frieake—Mrs. King was there—I passed out as he passed in, and saw him for about half a moment—I had never seen him before—that must have been the latter end of August or the beginning of September, but I cannot remember the date—he was not a tall man, and he had rather a slight moustache—I think they were rather long, and he walked rather quick—he did not stay long; it was evening—I know Henry Wainwright, and I have seen Thomas somewhere—I have passed him somewhere, before I saw him at the Police Court—it was afterwards arranged with Mrs. King that I was to take lodgings at Stratford, and take charge of the two children—that was while I was at Sidney Square—she said that Mr. King would pay me 5l. a month—I took lodgings at 6, The Grove, Stratford—I know that Mrs. King was in bad circumstances before September 11, 1874; several of her things had been pawned, and amongst others a wedding ring and keeper which she was in the habit of wearing; she had not got them when I went to Sidney Square, they were in pledge—I took them out of pledge on 11th September, from Mr. Dickers, a pawnbroker in the Commercial Road—Mrs. King gave me the tickets, one ring was pawned for 10s., and the other for 8s. or 9s., I forget which—I lent her the money to get them out—I lent her 2l. altogether as she had many bills to pay—she had a lot of money, but she had lots of bills to pay, and had not enough to get her wedding ring out—I had received 5l. from Mr. King in advance, for one month's keep of the two children—I took about 3l. worth of other things out of pawn that day, but not all from Dickers, linen and dresses, and nearly everything she possessed, and took them to her—the rings were like these, (produced) and the wedding ring was larger than the keeper—these are the same—she put them on and went away with them—late one evening about four or five days from the beginning of September, it might have been 9.30 or 10 o'clock, there was a loud knocking at the I door of the lodging in Sidney Square; Mrs. Foster came and spoke to me, and in consequence of what she said I went down to the front door and saw Mrs. King alone—she was intoxicated and excited—I took her in as quickly as I could, she came in on the instant and remained, and I was no with her all night—I looked outside but saw nobody else—I am not positive of the time—I believe Mrs. Foster came up next day and gave her notice to leave the lodgings—she was to leave on Wednesday, 9th September, but she stayed until the 11th—we packed up her boxes between us, she gave ma the keys at first, but I told her she had better take them with her—she left on that day, at 4 o'clock in the afternoon—she was dressed very neatly—she only took a night dress with her; I do not think there was anything else in the small brown paper parcel which she had—she had a new umbrella—she wore a grey dress, a black bonnet, and a black cape trimmed with lace and velvet—there were black jet buttons down the front of the
dress and no other trimming—she put the buttons on herself the same morning—they were bought in the Commercial Road, and two or three were left over which I put in this card stay-box (produced) which was on the table—I can swear to it—when the luggage was packed I put it into her big box: the box in Court—the buttons were on a card, a white card I believe—they were about this size (two buttons produced), but I cannot remember the pattern—she did her hair with a large pad at the back, over which it was frizzed, and she had a great number of hair-pins—the pad was bought in the Hackney Road, but I do not exactly know the shop—it was bought in rolls of a kind of wool about this length, of the colour of her hair, which Mrs. King and I pulled to pieces and made a large pad of them—she generally fastened her hair with a band of black velvet, but I do not know whether she had it on on the day she left; it was like this piece (attached to some hair), and this is about the same width—when she left she made a statement to me—she took leave of her children very affectionately—she was in very good health and very good spirits—I left the lodging the same evening about 6.30 or 7 o'clock, and went to 6, The Grove, Stratford, and took the two children with me, and Mrs. King's luggage and my own—there were several letters in her luggage—I did not see her on the Saturday, Sunday, or Monday—I was to keep the luggage till she came for it—not seeing her I went on Tuesday morning the 15th to Mr. Henry Wainwright, 84, Whitechapel Road, a brushmaker's shop—I had only been there once before, and then had not seen him—I sent a note to him, which I had written by a little boy, and saw him go in with it—I remained at the corner of the New Road just opposite 84, and Henry Wain-wright came out to me in about ten minutes—I said "Where is Mrs. King?"—he said "I sent her down to Brighton on Saturday morning "I was greatly astonished and said "Dear me, and she has not any clothes"—he said "Oh, I gave her money to buy new ones"—I said then "Did you I"—he said "Yes"—then I asked him if I should send her some clothing—he said "I dare say you will hear from her in a day or two"—I asked him if he would give me the 2l. which I had lent her, I. for the rings, some money for the laundress, and 7s. for a dress which she had had dyed—he gave me the 2l. and bade me good morning—I then went away; I had baby with me—I heard nothing from Mrs. King, and on the Thursday following I could not rest any longer, and I wrote to Mrs. Taylor, her sister—she was in the country, and I did not see her till the following Monday or Tuesday, I forget which—she then came to my lodging in Stratford Grove, and I had some talk with her, and afterwards went with her to 84, Whitechapel Road—we saw Henry Wainwright in the shop, and I said "This is Mrs. Taylor, Mrs. King's sister"—he said "Oh, is it; how like you look"—she said she had come to enquire after her sister, to know where she was—he told her that she had gone to Brighton, and he had not heard from her, but he would get her address as soon as he possibly could—I do not think anything more passed that morning—nothing was said, to me about his having sat up for her—I have told you all that passed when I was with Mrs. Taylor—a few days afterwards I was alone and saw him at the door of number 84—I said "I have not heard from Mrs. King yet"—he said "I have, and she has gone off with my friend Frieake"—I did not know that he had a friend named Frieake—he said that he was an auctioneer and had come into a large property—nothing was said as to what Mr. Frieake he was or where he lived—I was too astonished to say anything
and nothing more was said that morning that I can remember—I afterwards received this letter from the Charing Cross Hotel by post in an envelope addressed to 6, The Grove, Stratford—I had not told Wainwright where I lodged, because he knew; Mrs. King had told him that I was going there—he had not asked my address at the previous interviews—I received the letter about three weeks after the disappearance, that is after 11th September as near as I can tell—I gave the envelope with the letter to Mrs. Taylor and I do not know what has become it—I took the letter to Mr. Wainwright first at No. 84, the next morning after receiving it late at night; he was in the shop, I believe, and I said "I have just received this letter, sir"—he said "And so have I"—he took it in his hand and read it, and fetched up one very much like it—he said "I have one very much like it"—he fetched it out of his desk, and I saw it in his hand—I can read writing, but I did not read it; he read it to me—what I saw was very much like this writing—I was near enough to see the writing, about as near as I am to you, but I did not take much notice—he read a portion of it, which stated that he had got the lady under his protection, and it said "I dare you or any one else to interfere, as I intend to marry her"—I don't remember what else it said—I bade him good morning—he gave me this back and kept his own—I am sure I was alone when I showed him the letter first—I took it straight to Mrs. Taylor from No. 84—I cannot say that Wainwright read the letter through, but he appeared to. (Letter read: "Charing Cross Hotel. Dear Miss Wilmore,—I am very much surprised at not receiving a reply to my last letter, in which I gave you all particulars of our arrangements. She is now quite content and has solemnly promised not to speak to King or any of his friends and family again, as if she did I have told her we should have to part. If her promise is kept I intend to marry her in a few weeks. I distinctly tell her that I will not allow her to see any of her old acquaintances, as it will only cause unpleasantness. With kind regards, yours truly, E. Frieke. We are just off to Dover.") I am quite sure I never received any letter before that—I went straight to Mrs. Taylor and read it to her, and we both went to Waltham to see the father and mother, and returned together—I took no more notice until I received a telegram a few days afterwards at 6, The Grove, in one of the ordinary envelopes—I opened it and read it, and the next day Mrs. Taylor came to see me and I read it to her, and we afterwards, but not on that day went to see Henry Wainwright together, taking the telegram with me—I do not know whether it was the next day or the day following—we saw Henry Wainright at 84, Whitechapel Road—I said "I have received a telegram from Mr. Frieake from Dover"—I showed him the telegram and he read it—he did not say anything, but he fetched one like it and read it to Mrs. Taylor and myself—I cannot remember the substance of what he read, but he read it to Mrs. Taylor I know and I left her—I saw the telegram in his hand; it was very much like mine—I know telegram paper—he came out with us and asked us to have a glass of wine each and we had it—that was all that passed that day—before I left my lodgings I had 5l. in advance and when it had expired I went again to him—the first 5l. was paid after the telegram, and 1 did not go to Mr. Wainwright again till some days over the month, and then I got 5l. more for the keep of the children in advance and asked him if he had heard of Mrs. King; he said that he had not—he continued to pay the 5l. in advance every month up to June, 1875—I took care of the luggage till January—previous to my giving them up
they were examined at my lodging by Mrs. Taylor and Mr. Eeles, who passed as Fowler—Mr. Eeles opened them—he pushed the lock on one side; it was easily unlocked—I saw the boxes myself; there were several letters in them—I had her letters, she always left them in my charge—they were in another box—after the things had been examined they were all put back and corded up—I did not give the letters up until I received this from Mr. King—this is exactly the writing he used to write to me—I cannot swear that this "Percy King" is his-writing, but it is the writing he always wrote to me—I went to him and asked him if I should give up the boxes—he said "You might as well," and I said "Please send me a paper"—he said that he would do so, and an authority for giving them up was brought to me by Mr. Eeles—I also got one from the father and gave it to Inspector Fix—this is it (produced)—Mr. Fowler and another young man took the boxes—there was a large box, a portmanteau, and a bonnet box—that was about 21st January, as far as I can remember. (Read: "January 21, 1875. Miss Wilmore,—I am quite willing that Mrs. King's boxes shall be giving up to her father on your receiving a guarantee in writing exonerating you from all responsibility connected with them. Yours truly, Percy King." "January 28th,1875. Miss Wilmore, I hereby with full instructions from Mr. Lane, of Jessamine Cottage, Waltham, Essex, exonerate you from any responsibility connected with the box and portmanteau and the property of Mrs. King or Harriet Lane and the articles contained in them as seen by Mrs. Taylor and yourself—witness my mark, R. Fowler".) After June he did not pay me the same amount; I think he would have done so, but I do not think he had it—I met him at several places, and he sometimes gave me 5s., sometimes 3s., and sometimes 25.—I always asked him when I saw him whether he had heard anything of her, and he always said that he had seen her half-a-dozen times and someone else had seen her, his porter or his foreman; I am not certain which—I agreed to tike less money but he said that he did not wish me to take less, but would pay me as soon as he could—I said "If you cannot afford to pay me 25s. a week I will take 1l: a week"—he said that he did not wish me to do so, but I told him I would rather do it than part with the children—he paid me small sutras at any time when I could see him—he did not send them to me, I went to see him—for the last six weeks before September 11th this year I could not get any money, and I agreed to take a little weekly; I did not say how much at that time, but I did afterwards—I wrote to him in September this year while he was in Mr. Martin's service—I gave the letter to Mr. Martin's foreman, addressed "Henry Wainwright, Esq."—I received this letter in reply on Friday, 11th September, at midday—I was then living at 36, Maryland Street, Stratford, where I now reside—this does not look like his general writing, but I have letters something like it, and I believe it is his and the envelope also—in consequence of that letter I met him at the London Hospital, the arrangement was for 7 o'clock but he was not there till nearly 8 o'clock—I said "I received your letter, and I think it better that we arrange something at once"—he gave me 5s. and said that he would give me 5s. a week till November, and would send me 2l. or 30s. by midday on the next day, Saturday, without fail; but I did not receive it. (Letter read: "I have told you I can do nothing for you till November, I will then do as I have said; but if you give me all this annoyance by calling and leaving letters 1 shall then do nothing for you: you can make your choice; your stupid threats are quite absurd about it being too late. I can see you
at 7 o'clock to-night if you like at the back of the hospital. Miss Wilmore, Maryland Street, Stratford" post mark 10, 75.) I replied to that.
HENRY POLLARD . I am one of the clerks in the office of the Solicitor to the Treasury—I served two notices to produce a letter, upon the prisoners in Newgate, the first on the 23rd October, 1875, and the second on the 23rd November, 1875—these (produced) are copies of the notices.
ELLEN WILMORE (continued). When we met that night I do not recollect that he said anything about my letter—nothing whatever was said about the threats, he was most gentlemanly and most kind—I heard nothing on the next day, Saturday, and the next thing I heard was on Monday evening at 6 o'clock that he was taken in custody—a police sergeant afterwards came to me and I went to the dead-house at St. Saviour's and saw the remains of somebody—I saw a little of the hair, it was light auburn, which was the colour of Harriet Lane's hair, and the body was about her height and size as far as I could recognise; in my own belief I think it was her—I saw the hands and feet, they were small like hers—she had a decayed tooth, and only one; I cannot remember whether it was on the left or the right side it was in the upper jaw, the one next to the eye tooth—I have' tried to remember on which side it was and cannot remember at all, but she only had one decayed, and it showed when she laughed and talked—there were several teeth out of the jaw of the body I saw, but I did not notice any one in particular—Harriet Lane had a scar on the outer side of her" right leg from a burn, it was about 4 inches below the knee; I had seen it very often and I saw it the day before she. left Sidney Square—one side of the scar was very white, and the outer side was drawn like burns generally are; it was about the size of a 2s. piece as far as I recollect—these (produced) are her boots, I sent them home in her box when it was given up to her father—she was in the habit of wearing earrings and her ears were pierced—this is one of the letters found in the box, I marked all the letters I gave up, and it has my initials to it. (This was dated 16th February, 1874.) I gave Henry Wainwright a few of Mrs. King's letters, because he particularly wished it—when the things were given up I asked him whether I should give everything up, her letters and all—he said "No, you had better let me have them," but I would not give him all; I gave him a few, but she had told me never to give them up, she wished me not she was going to burn them, but she said "You take charge of them, I don't want my father or mother to see them."
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Before I bad any child to take care of I knew that Harriet Lane had left her father and come to London, I was then living in Chelsea—I used sometimes to go and see her, and she to see me—I never lived under the same roof with her until 3rd August, 1874—I first found her living in lodgings about 1871, the year that the first child was born—I left Waltham Abbey first and lost sight of her for three months—I was living in Chelsea in 1871, and then first found that she was living in London at the Green Dragon, Bishopsgate Street that was six or seven months before her first child was born—she told me then that she was married, and she was going in the name of Mrs. King; it was after the first child was born; and it had come to live with me, and therefore when it was three months old that I first saw Henry Wainwright—when I had the first child 1 lived in Buckingham Road, Pillion—Harriet Lane did not pay me when I had the first child; Mr. King paid me—I did not go to get the money, ho used to bring it himself—I always addressed him as Mr. King the first
child was with me rather more than twelve months, nearly up to December 3rd, 1873—I was not present when the second child was born, but I saw Mrs. King at Christmas at Mrs. Wells', 70, Peter Street—I used to walk not with her sometimes—I had a letter from her a day or two before 3rd August when I went to Sidney Square, Mrs. Foster's—the beginning of the arrangements about my having the two children was by that letter, and I went there instantly and slept under the same roof with her up to 7th September—I did see Mr. King about the 4th August, I met him with Mrs. King at the back of the hospital she had told me that she would bring him there, and it was at that interview that I or Mrs. King told him what the plans were and got his sanction to them—he asked me whether if he furnished a house I would live with Mrs. King—I told him No, but that I would take the children—he said "Very well"—that was all that passed and I went home.
By MR. POLAND. I said nothing to Mr. King about the money matters—between the 3rd or. 4th August and September 11 a person who Mrs. Foster announced as Mr. Frieake called—I was not so deaf then as I am now; this trouble has upset me and my deafness has increased of late months—Frieake was a very young looking man, very nicely dressed and gentlemanly; his hair was not very short; he had a pale complexion—I should call him rather fair—I do not think he had light hair, but he had a light moustache, rather fair and rather long.
By MR. BESLEY. I did not tell Mr. King, that my address was 6, The Grove; I left her to tell him that—I do. not know whether I told the Coroner or Magistrate that Wainwright said that he had seen her or some one else had seen her about London, but he has told me so, and I told him that I thought I had seen her in a cab, it was so immensely like—I said that I almost could have sworn it, but I had one of the children with me and could not follow her—this was near the Bank of England, about 5 o'clock in the day, about six weeks after 11th September—I reckon it by weeks—it was very cold weather, and I think it was before Christmas—I saw a Hansom cab, and a lady and gentleman in it, the colour of her hair struck my attention, being an uncommon colour, and the same as Harriet Lane's—the traffic impeded the cab to a certain extent, and I should have followed it if I had not the child—I was always on the look out for her—I never saw Mr. Wain-wright once at Sidney Square, but I saw him at Mrs. Wells, in Peter Street, several times calling and remaining a very short time—Mrs. King told me that Henry Wainwright gave her the lot of money I saw her with; I don't know how much she had, but I think there must have been 15l. by what she laid out, and she gave me 5l. of it—her wedding ring was larger than the keeper, which is usually the case—I cannot speak to the two buttons the police showed me, but 1 can say as a milliner that they are of the same kind—Mrs. King's cape and dress was trimmed only with buttons, quite two dozen were used—I never dressed her hair, but I used to see her dress it, from August 4th to 11th September, 1874, when she went away—I saw it when she went away, the rolls of wool pulled out makes it into the shape of a pad; that was all that was done to it; I had sent on the letter to Mr. Martin's, and I had written to him before—I had expressed a wish to keep the children, but I had talked of applying to the relieving officer, that was the only threat I used; I thought he might spare something for the children—he did not tell me that in consequence of the fire he was in litigation with the office; I think he was in difficulties, or he
would have paid me; he fixed November as the time when he would pay me—when I suggested reducing the amount from. 25s. to 20s.; he did not wish it—on the first occasion before the Magistrate, I might perhaps have said that she had gone down to Brighton, not that he had sent her—he either said she had gone or he had sent her, and now I come to recollect he said that he had sent her down to Brighton—as far as I recollect he said he had sent her; I could not pledge my oath which it was—I cannot recollect that I ever noticed any very prominent protrusion of the upper lip of Mrs. King; I think she had a slight projection; she had a very beautiful set of teeth, and they did slightly project, that did not disfigure the mouth at all; her mouth was large, but a nice shape; there was no disfigurement whatever—the remains were quite an recognisable.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The teeth that very slightly projected were in the upper jaw—the cab in which I thought I saw her was going at a very slow pace at first, but afterwards it drove quickly; the traffic stopped it—the telegram that I received on 17th October I gave to Mrs. Taylor and Mr. Eeles, and they have lost it.
By THE COURT. Mrs. King was very fond of her children; very fond indeed, more especially of the younger one—from the time she disappeared to the present no one either directly or indirectly has made any inquiry about the children, except the aunt—I have still got the children.
ELIZABETH TAYLOR . I am the wife of William Taylor, a coachman, of 7, Claredon Mews, Hyde Park—I am a daughter of John Lane, of Waltham, who is employed in the Gun Powder Works there—Harriet Louisa Lane was my youngest sister—I can't remember when she left Waltham—I have several other sisters—Mrs. Allen is one of them—I remember my sister Harriet living with Mrs. Foster, prior to that she had lived at several other places in London—she passed as Mrs. King—I knew that she had two children—before she went to Mrs. Foster's at Sidney Square she occasionally came to see me, and my husband and I went to see her—I went more than once, and found she was living there as Mrs. King with her children—the List time I saw her there was the second week in August—that was the last time I saw her alive—at the end of August I went to Weymouth with my husband for a fortnight—an my return I found a letter from Miss Wilmore—I knew that she was a friend of my sister's—in consequence of the letter which I received I went to Miss Wilmore, and then we we went together to see Henry Wainwright—I spoke to him and said I was come about a very unpleasant affair; about my sister being missing—I said "I am her sister, that you can see;" and he said "Oh yes; no doubt of that"—we were like each other—he said he did not know where she was, but that he gave her 15l. the day before she left Sidney Square, and afterwards, the last time he saw her, he gave her 10l. for an outfit to go to Brighton—he said he gave her that 10l. when she came into his shop at Whitechapel; that he thought she had gone to the Pavilion Theatre with one Teddy Frieake, who had come in for a large fortune; that he waited for them at his shop till 10 o'clock, but that they did not come in—after that interview I heard nothing of my sister for some weeks—afterwards I received this letter from Mr. Wain-wright—at that time I used to speak to him as Mr. King, though I had then found out that that was not his real name—after receiving that letter I and Miss Willmore had a second interview with him—I said "Have you seen anything of my sister?"—he replied "No; but my foreman has seen hour in a cab"—he got a letter and a telegram—he kept the letter in his
hand and read it out, something to this effect: "I have the lady under my protection, and I dare you or any body else to annoy her in any way"—he also read the telegram, which was: "We are now off to Paris, and mean to have a jolly spree"—that' was the second time I saw him—I saw him three times altogether—when he read the letter he did not read the signature, but he said he expected it came from Teddy Frieake—I think he also said the telegram was from Teddy Frieake—the third time I saw him was at the latter end of October or beginning of November—I saw him at his place of business—he gave me a little brandy and water—I asked him if he had heard anything of my sister—he said he did not know where she was, but he had no doubt she was all right and enjoying her luxuries, and that when they had had their frolic out he supposed they would return—I never saw him again and I never heard any tidings of my sister—I got Mr. Eeles to make some inquiries—he was a friend of mine—I think my sister was 24—she was not quite so tall as I am—she was of very slight build—her hands and feet were very small, and her fingers were very long—she had a nice quantity of very light hair, rather bright—she had a decayed tooth in the upper jaw on the right-hand side—it was next the eye-tooth, and was rather observable when she talked or smiled—she had a very nice set of teeth—I remember my sister having an accident; a burn—I was not at home when it happened—I know she had the mark—it was just below the knee, about the size of a florin, and looked like a mark produced by a burn—my sister, Mrs. Allen, can speak to that; she knows more about it—she has been unfortunately taken ill to-day—Harriet wore a weddingring and keeper—I saw the remains at St. Saviour's dead-house—the hair was very much like my sister's—she used to wear a pad and hair-pins over it to fasten it—it was a kind of frizzette—I have had a pad shown to me,. it was similar to that which she wore—I used to see her and she came to see me—I have seen her with her children—she appeared to be very fond indeed of them—I was in frequent communication with her; she used to write to me—Mr. Allen, my brother in-law, gave a number of envelopes, five I think; one of them had a letter in it—this (produced) is it; I gave it to Detective Forster—it is my sister's writing—I do not know Henry Wain-wright's writing—some time in October Miss Willmore showed me a telegram; I went to her place to fetch it, No. 6, The Grove, Stratford with Mr. Eeles—I gave it to Mr. Eeles, and have not seen it since; I have made diligent search for it and cannot find it—I am quite confident that I never had it back from Mr. Eeles—Mr. Allen also brought me two buttons on a card, just as you get them from a draper's—my husband gave them to Inspector Fox in my presence.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. At the first interview I had with Henry Wainwright I was accompanied by Miss Wilmore—I said to him "Can you tell me where my sister is?"—he said "I cannot tell you where she is; I only wish I could"—he said "The day before your sister was missing, I gave her 15l., and she said she was going to Brighton?"—he also said he gave her 10l. for an outfit before she went—it was at that same interview that he spoke of having waited at the shop till 10 o'clock, expecting her to return from the Pavilion Theatre; and that he had never seen her from that time—it was at the second interview that he told me some one had seen my sister in a cab—and at the third interview he said he should not continue to do as he had done for the children, and when the first child was old enough he would give it an education—the children are both girls—on the same occasion
he said "Should she return again I shall not take to her, can you blame me?"—I replied, "Certainly not, under the circumstance"—all my interviews with Wainwright were at No. 84, Whitechapel Road—I never went to No. 215—when he referred to the letter he held it in-his hand and read it, and I only know the contents of the letter by what he said—I could see the letter sufficiently to see there was writing on it, but whose writing it was I could not possibly tell—I am not certain whether I was the first member of the family who saw the remains—my father and my husband went with me—I had not given any description of my sister to the police before I was examined as a witness—my attention was drawn to the length of the feet and hands—my father drew attention to them and to the hair, as we were looking at the remains together—my attention was also called to the decayed tooth—several teeth were missing when I saw the remains—I had thought before of the particular things to which I would direct my attention when I saw the body—those points were her hair, the decayed tooth, and her hands and feet—the feet were very small, and her hands were also small, with very long fingers—the mark on the leg had not then occurred to me—she had not a scar on each leg, only on one leg—I am not aware of two—I am quite positive she had not two—I received five envelopes from Mr. Allen and gave them to detective Forster—I am unable to say out of which envelope I took the letter, I saw it before I took it out of the envelope—I had the other envelopes with me at the time; the others were empty—I am quite confident that I put the letter back into the same envelope I took it from.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I had the envelopes on the Saturday, and I gave them to Forster on the Monday—I had not seen them when they were found—I had never seen them before to my knowledge, till Mr. Allen produced them; all the five appear to be in the same small writing.
Re-examined by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL. This is the envelope directed by my sister—she wrote well and easily—she had had some education—at one time she was a governess; I could not tell exactly when—she wrote with facility, and was a very good scholar—when I said that some teeth were absent, I mean absent from the jaw of the body that was shown to me, not that my sister had lost any teeth—I remember my father giving evidence before the Magistrate, and speaking about the scar; that was not till after I had given my evidence—I did not recollect it till it was drawn to my attention—I have no knowledge of whose writing these envelopes are—this letter (A) is in my sister's handwriting.
GEORGE WILLIAM ROGERS . I am now in the service of Messrs. Hounsell, Brothers, in the Minories—I was formerly in the service of Henry Wain-wright—I know his handwriting well—I also know the handwriting of Thomas Wain-wright—to the best of my belief these letters marked B and I and the envelope which contained I are in Henry Wainwright's writing, also all these envelopes, and the signature to the letter marked G, dated 21st January, 1875, not the body of the letter—also the envelope and letter marked F. addressed to Miss Wilmore, 26, Maryland Street, Stratford; there is no date to this one of 15th or 16th February, 1874, but both letter and envelope are Henry Wainwright's writing—the letter marked E, headed "Charing Cross Hotel," to the best of my belief is in Thomas Wain-wright's writing.
WILLIAM TAYLOR . I live at 7, Clarendon Mews, Hyde Park Square, and am a coachman—my wife is a daughter to Mr. John Lane—I knew her sister Harriet Lane as Mrs. King—she frequently visited Clarendon Mews; once in three weeks, and a fortnight sometimes—sometimes she would write to us—she had been in the habit of visiting us at the Mews very nearly four years—I and my wife went out of town together on Saturday the 30th August last year—three days before that I had seen Harriet Lane at my house—I saw her, but my wife was out of town at the time she called—she was then well, and I saw her and chatted with her—that was the last time I saw her alive—at the time I and my wife were out of town at my uncle's, near Yeovil, a letter came from her in her writing—that was early in September, the 4th or 5th, I won't be certain which—after our holiday we returned to town—on Wednesday the 15th September in the present year I and my wife went to the dead-house at St. Saviour's Church—we were shown portions of a body there—in my opinion the body was that of Harriet Lane—I knew it by the small feet, and the hands, and the colour of the hair—when she was at my house I noticed that she complained of toothache—I did not see the tooth, but she pointed to me where it was—it was on the right hand side of the upper jaw (describing)—two of her teeth projected out a little when she laughed—I did not observe any teeth that were bad, only one, and that I could see was regularly decayed—it could be seen when she laughed or smiled—that was the tooth she pointed to me—two upper front teeth projected a little—they were a little prominent—I remember two jet buttons on a card being brought to my house by Mr. Allen, my brother-in-law—I gave them up to Inspector Fox in the same state in which I received them—my wife was not present at the time I gave them up.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I went with my wife to see the remains, and both Mr. Allen and I were examined at the police-court the next day—I had been told before I saw the remains that I should not recognise them, and that there were no features that I could recognise them by—I knew that I was going to see remains that were an recognisable by features—when' I was before the Magistrate I told them that there was a decayed tooth, but I omitted to say anything about toothache; it did not occur to me at the time—the hair I saw was the same colour, and I said that by the decayed tooth, the hair, and the small hands and feet, I had no doubt that it was Harriet Lane.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. While the envelope and the letter I were in possession of my wife I looked at them—I or my wife took the letter out of the envelope, and I read it; I won't be certain which of us it was that took it out because I cannot recollect; I think it was my wife—there were four other envelopes there at the time all before us—after they had been in my wife's possession one night we gave them to Detective Forster, and while we were present he took the letter out and read it—we were going to give them up on the Tuesday as we were going to the Court—my wife put the letter back again into the envelope when we had read it—when we showed the letter to Detective Forster it was taken out by him and read—we did not show it to any other person while it was in our possession—I was present when Mr. Allen brought it; he did not read it—he did not know that there was anything inside it.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I thought it was an important letter—I saw my wife put it back into the same envelope—at the time Forster came, my wife gave him the envelopes, and he marked them with his pencil—he took the letter out of the envelope, and he afterwards put it back again into the same envelope that it came from—it was dated the 5th September; I noticed the stamp mark particularly.
SOPHIA ALLEN . I am the wife of Edwin Allen, and I live at Oldfield Road, Maidenhead—Harriet Louisa Lane was my sister—I am older than she was—there were seven sisters living, with Harriet; she was the seventh daughter; I am the fifth—she might have been a trifle taller than me; I have compared heights with her several times, standing back to back, measuring ourselves—I cannot recollect how tall I am, but I have been measured; she was the tallest; the difference was perceptible to any one—her feet were small, and she had small hands, and her fingers were small in proportion—I remember an accident happening to her some time ago, and she had a scar on her right leg through it—I was present at the time—a poker had been put into the fire, and whilst she was sitting down on a little stool by the side of the fire-grate, the poker fell out of the fire on to the outside of her right leg, and she was a good deal burnt, and she cried very much—as far as I can recollect she was about ten years of age at the time—it was some time before the burn healed up—I fetched the oil for it to be dressed—after it was better there was a mark left, and the skin was drawn very much—the mark was about four inches below the knee to the best of my recollection; I never measured it—it had the appearance of a scar, and seemed to be drawn round at the side—I was about 19 years old then—I last saw the scar when" we were at home together about six years ago—it is three years come the 19th January since I left my father's house—my sister Harriet left home about a year or eighteen months before me—she was well educated—she was brought up as a milliner—at one time she was a governess in a family, but I really cannot say how long—she was what is called a nursery governess—I and my sister about six years ago were photographed together at Shoreditch in a standing posture—this is (produced), the photograph that was taken—I was dressed in a blue silk, and my sister in a black dress—my sister is the lady on the right hand—she had light hair of a golden tinge.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. My sister had not two marks, one on each leg, only one, and when I last saw it it seemed to be drawn very much—it is about six years ago since I last saw it, and it might be about the size of a 2s. piece—there has been nothing during the six years until my sister disappeared, or until the inquest and police inquiry, to recall my mind to the scar—she said when we had been together that should anything happen to her we should know her by the mark, and I have also a mark on my fore-head—I did not see the remains.
By THE COURT. I was present while my sister's burn was dressed—the scar was in the same place as the burn, and I have no doubt that it was the scar of the burn; it was not exactly a round scar, neither round nor long, but to the best of my recollection I think it was about the size of a 2s. piece.
JOHN LANE . I live at Waltham Cross—I am gas manager to the Royal Gunpowder Mills, at Waltham Abbey—I have had nine daughters born, and christened, and two sons, one is not—I had a daughter called Harriet Louisa—she was born at Weymouth—I can't called of mind the date—she
would now bog twenty-four years of age, you must calculate from that, I have not the memory of it myself—she was my youngest daughter—she was brought up as a milliner and dressmaker at Waltham Cross—whilst there she was in the habit of coming backwards and forwards to her home; she served her time with a Mrs. Bray—I can't call to mind the date she went to London; she must have been about twenty or twenty-one at the time; I can't say exactly—she frequently came to visit us during the years 1871, 1872, and 1873; she never stopped very long without coming to us—the last time she came was sometime in August, 1874, I think—I don't properly know where she was living at that time; I know it was somewhere in Whitechapel; I knew she was going in the name of King—I did not know that she had two children, only one the last time I saw her—it was supposed that she was married, but I could not say that she was—she used to come and visit us on very friendly terms, no angry word ever came out of our mouths towards her, or out of hers towards us to my recollection; we were very friendly, indeed—I never saw her alive after August, 1874; she appeared to be in perfect good health at that time—I never saw Mr. King, at all during that time—I first heard that she was missing somewhere in the beginning of September 1874, about the 10th, 11th, or 12th—I and my daughters made continual inquiry, but it appeared that she was absent—we could not learn anything of her to any satisfaction—I first heard the name of Frieake, a very little time after she was missing—I did not take any steps to find Mr. Frieake, just at that time, I did afterwards, I think sometime last February—I am not certain; I saw Mr. Frieake; I can't tell the date exactly; I know it was in very dark days and bad weather—I found him in his auction room, in Whitechapel Road selling—Mr. Eeles was with me, he took me there—we had some conversation with Mr. Frieake, and after that went direct to Henry Wainwright—Mr. Eeles went with me—I had never seen him before to my knowledge—I believe we found him in front of the house just going in in; I can't remember the number, it was on the right hand side of Whitechapel Road, below the church, the brush making place—he was pointed out to me as Wainwright by Mr. Eeles—he invited us upstairs—I said to him "My name is Mr. Lane, I am come to know what has become of my daughter," because I wished to know where she was—he seemed to make very light of it, he said she was all right, she was right enough—I asked him to let me know where she was, whether she was dead or alive, and if she was dead to let me know—he made as if she was all right, he said she was gone away with Mr. Frieake—we then said we had seen Mr. Frieake, and he denied all knowledge of knowing anything about this daughter of mine—I said we had seen Mr. Frieake the auctioneer—he said that was not the man, it was a different man to him, a man with no moustache, or very little—he gave me no address—I said I was determined to find out my daughter, if not I should take higher steps to find her—I showed him a letter that I had got from Mr. Frieake—I believe this (produced) to be the letter, I can't read writing—Henry Wainwright took the letter from my hand and unfolded it, I can't say whether he read it he kept it a minute or two, I supposed he was reading it, he passed it back to me again—I told him that the letter had come from Mr. Frieake, and that Mr. Frieake denied knowing anything of it, and I said "If so be I cannot find where my daughter is, it must come to an exposure, and if it does come to an exposure it will be worse for you than for me"—he said
"Well, if it comes to an exposure it must, I know it will be worse for me" I believe I have told all that passed—that was the only interview I had with him—about the beginning of the present year my daughter Harriet's boxes were brought to my house—on 14th September this year I was taken to see the remains of a dead body—I did not see it then, I saw it on the 15th I believe, it was shown to me by Inspector Fox, and some other gentlemen—the body was in portions, cut up—the moment I looked through the glass I seemed to feel that it was my daughter; I recognised her by the hair, and by the legs and feet and hands; I was so satisfied nothing would ever turn me, the moment I saw her—the legs appeared to me to be perfect—the feet and hands were quite perfect, only very dark, I could not see any natural colour—the hair was just the same colour as my daughter's; she had small hands and long fingers—I don't properly know her height, but as near as I could judge it was 5 feet—there was nothing more that I recognised her by, but the scar on the leg, that I was certain of—I had not seen it of late years; it has never been shown to me on the body, but I made a statement of it—I know as a fact that she had a scar on the leg; I could not recognise which leg it was for some time, but it proved to be on the right leg; I said I was not certain it was on the right leg, but I believed it was—it was some years since I had seen it, it may have been six, seven, eight, nine, or ten years—I was not present at the time the accident happened, but I was given to understand it was done by a poker.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I understood that for some little time she had been a governess after she was out of her apprenticeship—she went to London as I thought to go into business with another young woman when she was out of her apprenticeship—it might be two or three weeks after she had gone to London that I knew she was living in Whitechapel, I can't speak to the time—I never had her address and never went to any lodging of hers—from the time she left home I believed she was provided for—I knew nothing of the pawning of her clothing—I am sure it was in August, 1874, that she last came down to Waltham, either the beginning or the middle of August; it was not the end of July—sometimes six or seven weeks occurred during which she was absent—when Mr. Eeles and I went to Henry Wain-right Mr. Eeles said to him "Here is a letter that has come from Mr. Frieake, the auctioneer"—he mentioned the word auctioneer—Wainright immediately said he was not the man; I think he said that after he read the letter, but I will not be certain—I do not recollect that the conversation was going on at the time he had the letter in his hand, I do not believe it was—he stopped for a time and looked at the letter, and then the conversation went on—I am not perfectly certain, but I believe he was silent at the time he was looking the letter—to the best of my belief I have always said the same—I mentioned the word "exposure" first, but I cannot say at what part of. the story I mentioned it—he said "If it comes to an exposure it must," and 1 rejoined "If it does it will be heavier for you than for me"—I believe Mrs. Taylor is the tallest of my daughters, slightly taller than Harriet I cannot say how much, she is the tallest of all my daughters, but Harriet was not the shortest; I cannot say that she was the next in height to Mrs. Taylor; I have two daughters, I believe, shorter than Harriet; Mrs. Allen is not one of them; I judge her to be nearly the same height as Harriet—I judged Harriet to be more than 5 feet, I never measured her—before I saw the remains I had heard that the features were not recognisable—Mrs. Taylor and I saw them together, I said I was satisfied it was my daughter;
I was quite satisfied—I had not talked with Mrs. Taylor or anybody as to the particular points to which our attention was to be directed; I went away thoroughly satisfied—the scar on the leg occurred to me directly I went to the police-court and I named it directly—that was the next day, or the day after I had seen the remains—she was perhaps seven or eight years of age at the time the accident happened; I had not seen the scar for many years; I knew there was one.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I gave my evidence first, and saw the remains afterwards; I cannot really say which was first, I believe I had seen the remains first, and then when before the Magistrate I mentioned the scar—I had nine daughters born and christened, three are dead now, two died young; one was a twin; Harriet was the youngest of all my daughters.
ERNEST GEORGE EELES . I live at the office of the Charity Organisation at Wandsworth—I am the inquiry officer there—it is part of my business to make inquiries about persons—I have known Mr. and Mrs. Taylor for some years—I saw Harriet Lane once, I knew she was a sister of Mrs. Taylor's—I knew that she was missing in January of the present year—I had a conversation with the Taylors about her—they gave me some particulars, in consequence of which I instituted inquires at their request—Harriet Lane knew my right name, and I thought, probably, if the name of Eeles came to her as the name of the person who was making inquiries it might have an opposite effect to what was wished I therefore represented myself to be a Mr. Fowler—I went to see Henry Wainwright at 215, Whitechapel Road, as near as I can say about the 16th January of the present year—I saw him first outside the house; I came up rather behind him, put my hand against his shoulder and said "Mr. Wainwright, I think"—he said "Yes"—I said "I wish to speak privately for a minute"—he said "Step inside"—I said to him "Do you know a person named Mrs. King or Harriet Lane"—he said "Yes"—I said "You have known her about four years"—he said "Yes"—I said "She has had two children by you"—he said "Yes"—I said "Where is she now," or "Do you know where she is," I cannot remember the words exactly, he said "I do not know"—the surveyor for the Sun Fire Office was outside as he told me, and they were going across to measure the premises at 84—he said "Axe you in a hurry"—I said "No"—he said "Will you step across—I said "Yes," and we went across—there was some measuring done at 84, and after it was over we returned to 215—I then asked him when he had last seen Harriet Lane—he said "Some time ago now"—I said "Where do you think she is"—he said he thought she had gone away with a man named Teddy Frieake, who had lately come into about 2,000l.; "there are five brothers who had had 11,000l. left between them, no doubt they are enjoying themselves and she will turn up again when the money is all spent"—he said that Frieake was an auctioneer—I am under the impression that he said so; I know that he did on a subsequent occasion, if he did not then—I am not quite sure that he said it at that time—I gave him my name as Fowler and my address at the Post-office, High Street, Wands-worth, if he should want to write to me—my impression is that I gave it to him as some sort of satisfaction at the time—shortly after that interview I saw Mrs. Taylor, and she gave me this letter marked E and a telegram—I have lost the telegram—I have made diligent search for it and cannot find it—I have no recollection of having giving it to anybody—I then went to Mr. Frieake of 11, Coleman Street—I saw his address on one of the handbills
notifying that a sale was to take place at his auction-room, Aldgate—I went there first and then to Coleman Street—I saw Mr. Frieake and showed him the letter that I had got from Mrs. Taylor—I am not quite positive whether I showed him the telegram or not—I had some conversation with him, and he showed me his letter book and some of his writing—after a little time we left the office and went together to Henry Wainwright, 215, Whitechapel Road—I should think that was about a fortnight after my first visit—we saw him and I said to him "Mr. "Wainwright, I have found Mr. Frieake"—he said "Oh, this is not the Mr. Frieake, this is a mistake"—Mr. Frieake said "What is this Harry"—he said "Oh it is a mistake altogether"—this happened outside the house on the opposite side to 215—we then crossed the road and went into the front room upstairs at 215—Mr. Frieake said "You are getting me into a mess that I know nothing of, and may do me a serious injury"—Henry Wainwright said you are not the Teddy Frieake I mean, the Teddy Frieake I mean is a billiard player and have seen him frequently at Purcell's, at the Philharmonic, and the Nell Gwynne"—Mr. Frieake said "Do you mean to say you have ever known another Teddy Frieake and not enquired who he was; I don't believe you will find another Teddy Frieake with the name spelt the same as mine in the 'London Directory;' if you know anything about this affair why don't you tell them at once? I saw you with a fair-haired girl a short time ago, is that the one?—Wainwright said "No; I can produce her in five minutes"—he said that he was a young man with no whiskers, and scarcely any moustache, not above a dozen or a score "of hairs—after that conversation I left—I left just before Mr. Frieake, I think—I saw Mrs. Taylor again, and afterwards Mr. Lane—I went with Mr. Lane to Mr. Frieake's auction rooms—I and Mr. Lane at that time had a conversation with Mr. Frieake—he gave me this letter marked A (produced) in an envelope—I afterwards gave the letter and envelope to Mrs. Taylor—I think the letter was not in the envelope; I did not get the letter back from Mrs. Taylor—when I got the letter and envelope I and Mr. Lane went to see Henry Wainwright, at 215—he was not in at first—we waited for him and he came in after a short interval—I said to him "This is Mr. Lane, Harriet Lane's father"—he asked us to go upstairs, and we went up—Mr. Laue said "Where is my daughter?"—he said "I do not know"—Mr. Lane said "If she is dead tell me, and if alive let me know where she is"—Wainwright said that he did not know where she was, but would do all he could to try and find her—Mr. Lane said "I am determined to find her, if it comes to an exposure it must, but that will be worse for you than us"—during the conversation Mr. Lane was pacing backwards and forwards wringing his hands in great agony of mind—I showed this letter to Mr. Wainwright, told him I had received it from Mr. Frieake, and asked him whether he could give any explanation of it—he appeared to read it, and while he had it in his hand 1 said "Can you tell me what this part alludes to?"—pointing to that part "If Harry and yourself could see me to-morrow evening, we may be able to arrange matters satisfactorily as the time is now very short"—he said he did not know what it meant—he appeared to read the letter, and afterwards (luring the interview he gave it back to me—I do not remember that he made any further remark upon it. (Bead: "Sunday night. My dear Mr. Frieake,—I trust you will pardon me writing to you, but I feel I ought to apologise for my rude behaviour to you last evening, after the kindness I have received from you. I had been very worried and annoyed during the
day, which caused me to be very excited. I felt very sorry you left me so cross. I did not go out after, as you wished me not to. I have well considered the subject we spoke of, and think if Harry and yourself could see me to-morrow evening, we might be able to arrange matters satisfactorily, as the time is now very short. Please write by return, and let me know if you will call, or if I shall meet you anywhere. For the future, I will promise to behave more ladylike. Should I not hear from you, I shall consider I am not forgiven. I remain, very truly yours, L. King.") I have no means of fixing the date of my second interview with Henry Wainwright—I called upon him after that interview, several times, and asked him about the missing woman—on one occasion he said that one of his workmen had seen her in a cab, somewhere at the West End, but I forget the place he named—on another occasion he said that Miss Wilmore had seen her in a cab, and named the place, somewhere at the West End—he said on another occasion that she would turn up again some day, when the money was all gone—the last time I saw him I made inquiries about her—to the best and my recollection it was in the early part of July, this year, I think—I cannot find the telegram, Mrs. Taylor gave me, but I read it—it was on the ordinary telegraph paper, I think—it was from E. Frieake, Dover, to Miss Wilmore, 6, The Grove, Stratford—I cannot recollect the date "We are just off to Paris, and mean to have a jolly spree."
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I believe I gave it to Mr. Fowler.
ELLEN TAYLOR (re-examined). I read the envelope which I have lost—this is the letter (produced); I have got another letter from Miss Wilmore; this is the letter I got from Eeles—it is the envelope of this letter which I have lost and looked for and cannot find.
E. G. EELES (Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY). I cannot be positive where I had an interview with Miss Wilmore before I saw Henry Wainwright—I did not make any memorandum of my conversation with Miss Wilmore—I do not think the name of Frieake was mentioned to me by Miss Wilmore; my impression is that I had not seen her before I saw Mr. Wainwright—I got the name of Frieake from Mrs. Taylor; I cannot say how she got her information.—I had not got the letter from the Charing Cross Hotel, and I knew nothing about the letter the first time I saw Henry Wainwright—when I did see the name of Frieake I did not go and see Mrs. Wells, but I went to Mrs. Foster's afterwards—that was not until after the occasion of Mr. Lane's visit with me to Mr. Wainwright—I pursued my enquiries about the young man named Frieake with Miss Wilmore—Mrs. Taylor called my attention to the name of Frieake on a handbill of a sale, and I found out his address through that—for some time I believed that Mr. Edward Frieake, the witness, and Wainwright were deceiving me in telling me untruths—I do not recollect saying to Henry Wainwright on one occasion that I would
go to his private house in Tredegar Square and see his wife; I never said I would go and tell his wife about his having had two children—I do not recollect having said so; in fact I never did say so—I never mentioned that I would go to his wife or about the two children; I have not the slightest doubt that I never said so—I did not afterwards change my view and believe that Edward Frieake and Henry Wainwright were both telling me the truth—I never saw Mr. Frieake afterwards; I believed them to have been deceiving me all along—I heard, there was a dispute with the Fire Office; I cannot say how—I did not say to Henry Wainwright that I should expect some money when he got the money from the Fire Office, nor that if money was given to me I would give up making further enquiries, and guarantee that no further enquiries should be made; neither in those terms nor anything like them—there is not passing through my mind terms like those—I wrote to Henry Wainwright; I have not got his reply—I bought goods of him—I have destroyed the letter I suppose—the letter I received referred. to the enquiries I was making—he decidedly did not in that letter in any shape or form say he refused to give me money—I cannot recollect when the goods were bought of him; I have no receipt or invoice; it would be March or April I should think—I bought the goods having no invoice or receipt—I do not know to what amount; they are not paid for—the amount was about 17s.—I bought one lot of goods and no more—I did not write myself to Mrs. Henry Wainwright at Tredegar Square—I did address letters to Mr. Wainwright at Tredegar Square, but not above two or three—after I had had the goods I went as often to 215, Whitechapel Road as before—I took no note of any statement he made in reference to persons hoping seen Harriet Lane in a cab—I never went to him anywhere else than at 215, Whitechapel Road—on the occasion when I went up stairs Mrs. Izzard was living in the house; I did not see any one else upstairs; it was furnished.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The goods I bought were brushes and mats what I dealt with in my trade—I believed that both Henry Wainwright and Mr. Frieake were deceiving me up to the 14th September of the present year, when I heard of this discovery.
By THE COURT. Mr. Wainwright first mentioned the name of Teddy Frieake to me when I saw him on the first occasion after we came back from measuring the premises of No. 84; I am sure of it; it was before I had seen Mr. Frieake in Coleman Street, and it was on the occasion of my first visit to Mr. Wainwright.
EDWARD WILLIAM FRIEAKE . I spell my name Frieake, and I am an auctioneer and public-house valuer, with offices at 11, Coleman Street, City, and auction-rooms at 14 and 15, Aldgate—I have been in business about five years, but not at those premises—I have known Henry Wainwright about twelve or fourteen years—I was on terms of intimacy with him for many years, and he used to address me as Teddy or Frieaky, and other friendly terms—I used to address him as Harry—I have lived at Bow for nearly sixteen years—up to September last I was on friendly terms which him—in September last I received by post this letter (produced) at my office in Coleman Street—I read it, of course, but I did not know the writer, and it was a great astonishment to me—I never knew a person named L. King to my knowledge—I was utterly astonished, and could not imagine what it referred to—as far as I recollect it was received about the 29th, 30th, or 31st of August of last year; it was on a Monday morning—my father was at the
office at the time—I took it home and showed it to my friends, after showing it to my father-for a time it was made rather a matter of joke in my family circle, and then it passed from my mind—I recollect Eeles coming to my office as Mr. Fowler at the latter end of January or the beginning of February—he was alone—he made several, as I thought, impertinent inquiries, and showed a letter—this letter (E) is it to the best of my belief—I recollect Charing Cross Hotel on the top of it—it was signed "E. Frieke," leaving out the "W" and the "a"—I always sign my name Edward W. Frieake—I read it and expressed my astonishment to Eeles; it was not written by me, and I know nothing about the matters referred to in it, or of a telegram which he also showed me—I produced my letter book, and said that he could look at any letters in it to see my writing—I then went with him to see Henry Wainwright at 215, Whitechapel Road—I asked to see Wainwright, and I said "Harry, I want to see you privately"—Eeles was behind me and Wainwright who met us, ushered us up into the first floor sitting-room—I then said "This individual (alluding to Fowler) has been to my office and accused me of taking a girl away by the name of King, and has said that you are his informant to that effect"—he said "Oh, Teddy, old man, it is not you; it is another Teddy Frieake"—I said "Well, it is a very serious imputation to cast upon my character, and should it get to the ears of the lady I am engaged to be married to, it will very likely ruin my happiness," or something to that effect—I said "What sort of man is this Teddy Frieake, who has represented me"—he said "Oh, he is only a young fellow about 23 or 24, with a slight, black moustache; "I think he said" and a very little whisker, and has lately come into a lot of money"—I then appealed to Fowler, and asked him whether he was satisfied that I was not the man alluded to—before that I asked him where he had known this Teddy Frieake, and he said at the King's Head billiard-rooms, Fenchurch Street, and the Philharmonic—I asked him whether he had ever seen me at either of those places and he said "No"—I said "Well, it is a strange thing that you should have known another Teddy Frieake and not have asked him whether he had relations living at Bow, as mine is not a Brown, Jones, or Robinson name"—he said he had principally known him as Teddy—I said "If I had met another Henry Wainwright, and been introduced to him, I should have asked him whether he had any relations in Whitechapel," and that as mine was a very peculiar name I was surprised that he he had not made any inquiries about the said Teddy Frieake when he first met him, and I turned round to Fowler and said "As far as 10l. or 20l. would go I would give it willingly to find out the person who has represented me, as it might be a very serious matter for me"—I said "Who is the fair girl I saw you with a few weeks before or since?"—in fact I had followed them into a public-house—Fowler then left and I had some conversation with Wain-wright alone—I said "Harry, old man, if you know anything about this girl's whereabouts why don't you ease their minds and let them know"—he said "Teddy, old man, this is a only a get up to extort money from me, the girl is all right"—I think that was all that passed—when I heard of this matter I went to the police-station, Borough, and gave my card, and saw Superintendent Garforth, to whom I gave information—the entries in my diary of this year (produced) are in my handwriting, all but one—from that I have very little doubt that 1 saw Henry Wainwright on 11th September, 1874—he asked me to send a cart down at 6 o'clock on that evening to 84, Whitechapel Road—it would be early in the morning as I passed up to town
—he was going to give me a sale of surplus stock—I was in the habit of sending carts there—the cart left my office at 6.15 that evening, that is the time it is booked by the carman's bill, until a certain time when he charges me with it; he has charged me for two hours—he was not my carman—he occupied the ground floor of the premises which I occupy the first floor of; he sent the cart away, and it is booked at 6.15 to go to Whitechapel; I do not know where he is now—I never recollect seeing Thomas Wainwright in my life, I may have seen him, there is something familiar about his face, but I never recollect having any intercourse with him—I did not know that Henry had a brother Thomas—I have worn a beard and moustache ever since I was twenty-one or twenty-two—I have my portrait, taken years ago, in my pocket.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. We were young fellows together in the neighbourhood of Bow—that was the commencement of my knowledge of him—I have not been as intimate with him for the last two or three years as I used to be—I have not gone about with him lately, but I used to see his family several nights in the week—there had been no coldness between us, we were on perfectly good terms—the transaction of my selling goods for him was about July or August, at the time of his difficulties, when he was making his composition—the goods were some of his surplus stock—I think the goods were only partially looted when his manager Rogers came and finished them at my rooms—the goods were not considerable in number—I believe the van only went twice for them, and I believe it went in the evening and in the morning; the entry in my diary is Friday, September 11—I made that as soon as entered the office, and I have no doubt that I saw Wainwright on the morning of the 11th, and received directions to take the van there at 6 o'clock—this "evening, 6 o'clock," is in my writing—I am certain that the order was executed, because I have been paid for the cart—the goods were in my possession some time before they were put up for auction, and the fire occurred in November, some six weeks after the sale—I did not act for Wainwright in any way after the fire—I was asked to be a witness by the Company, and also by Wainwright—Fowler came to me in January, 1875—the fire was in November, 1874, and my visit to Wain-wright was early in 1875—I was to be a witness for him in reference to the action against him—I supplied him with an account for the sale, and I have a claim against him, and he has one against me—it is unsettled—he said that Frieake had come into a lot of money, and as soon as it was spent the girl would return he also said you will hear nothing more about it—when he said "This is a get up to extort money from me," Fowler had left.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I don't think I said before the Magistrate that the face of Thomas was familiar to me as that of a person I had freqnently seen in the neighbourhood of Bow, I said that it was a face I had seen at Bow, but could not call to mind—I had seen his face—after this was said about it being an attempt to extort money; I took no further steps, although I said that I was willing to spend money to investigate it—it entirely passed from my memory, because knowing Henry Wainwright as 1 did, I naturally believed him; I am speaking from memory as to the date when I received the letter—I know it was a Monday morning, but have nothing to guide me but my memory as to the particular Monday morning, except the expression in the letter, Sunday night—my young lady called my attention to it where I was on that Saturday evening—that was an
after conversation between me and the lady I was going to marry—independent of that conversation I feel certain it was on a Monday morning, because when this came up I referred to two or three things which still more fixed it—I examined the paper, the envelope and post mark; I carried it in my pocket some time and I taxed my clerk as to whether he knew anything of it.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The letters A. U. were on the envelope—I know from my diary that I got the order to send the van to Wainwright's place No. 84 that day—it would get there in a quarter of an hour, have some goods put into it and come back to my sale rooms—the sale took place on the 11th of October, a month after—I don't remember how many goods there were—they were brushes and things of that sort—I gave the letter, which 1 did not understand, to Mr. Lane, and the envelope with it.
By THE COURT. When the first parties came to me I did not recollect the letter, not till I got home, and then I repeated the conversation between Fowler, Wainwright, and myself, and my lady called my attention to it and my recollection was brought back to it.
ALFRED COOPER WOODWARD . I am a clerk in the telegraph message branch of the General Post Office—I produce the telegraph books of October last from the Admiralty Pier, Dover, and also from the Eastern District of London, the Stratford post-office, and the Walham Green post-office—the original telegraphic messages which are handed in by any person sending a telegram are sent to my branch, and after being kept for a month are sent to the mill to be reduced to pulp—these papers would be destroyed at the end of three months.
PETER CROFTS . I am one of the telegraph clerks on the Admiralty Pier, Dover—I attended there daily in October, 1874—I find an entry in one of the books in my writing—it is the book in which the messages which are handed in are recorded—these messages would be telegraphed to London—three telegraphic messages in the name of Freeke were sent in on 17th October.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. The messages are in my writing—I make the entries at the close of the day—we copy them off at the close of the day. from the original messages, not from any other document.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The three messages are numbered consecutively 4029 to 4031 inclusive—the entry contains the number of the message—each telegram has a number impressed upon it—we do not number them at the time they are sent in, we number them up in the evening when we enter them up—there is no number on the message when it is sent in, but we number them in the evening when we enter them up—if a man cones to the office and sends a telegram it is put on a file face downwards after the message is seat, in the order in which it is sent in, and in the evening we take them off the file, numbering them at the same time—we look through to see that they are in their places as when they are handed in—the three messages in the name of Freeke are consecutive in my hook—Freeke to London is one message, Freeke to London is another, and Freeke to Stratford another—I should say that those messages were sent off between 4 and 6 o'clock.
ALICE BERRY . I am a clerk in the Eastern District post-office, and was so on 17th October, 1874—it was my duty if a telegraphic message came there to write it out and forward it—this is my book—I find here on 17th
October an entry, "Wainwright, Dover Pier"—that is a telegram addressed to Wainwright from Dover Pier—I did not write it out, that was the duty of the instrument clerk, Catherine Folley, but I should put it in the envelope and send it out, and make an entry whence it cornea, or to whom it is addressed, or the name of the office from whence it is sent—White-chapel Road is in our district, both 84 and 215, but not all parts of it.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I know that of my own knowledge, and from the writing in the book—I have no numbers of Whitechapel Road in the book—no one has told me that 285 and 84 are in my district, but I know it because we send telegrams to Mr. Wainwright, this telegram to him is entered in the book—we have sent telegrams to him at 215 on other occasions; I believe 215 is in my district, and I think No. 84 is, but am not sure.
Re-examined by MR. POLAND. If a telegram comes, which is not in our; district, I think it would be sent on to another office.
PHILIP VINCENT . I am a clerk in charge of the telegraph department at Walham Green, in the South Western district; I have seen the prisoner Thomas there, he resided at Rosamond's Cottage; I have seen him at the office, but I never had occasion to go to his residence—I believe from telegrams received, and which he has sent from our office, that he lived at Parsons Green—I cannot say whether I have read the telegrams he sent in; I should read them if Little, the other clerk was engaged at the instrument, and if I was engaged at the instrument Little would have to read them—Thomas Wainwright has sent several telegrams from the office—the last message I remember him sending was in December, 1874, that is the last entered in his name—I do not-recollect any message which I read and sent; it is Little's business to make a memorandum in the proper book of messages sent out; he is not now in the service of the post-office, but he was during all October, 1874—if I was at the instrument when a message came I should write it down, but his business was to write them in the abstract-book—the messages are destroyed periodically, this is the abstract-book (produced)—Parsons Green is in my district—I know the Rosamond's Cottage there.
JOHN ALLAN LITTLE . I am a pastry cook at the Queen's Hotel, Norwood—I was formerly telegraph clerk and was employed at Walham Green two months, I left in November—I do not know Thomas Wain-wright at all—it was my duty at the close of each day to enter in the abstract-book the messages received for delivery in my district, all the entries on 17th October in this abstract-book are in my writing, the last entry is Wainwright, Dover Pier"—that means for Wainwright, from Dover Pier—I have no recollection of that message—I enter the name of the person for whom the telegram is intended in my district, and the place from whence it comes, but not the name of the person who sends it—this entry shows me that on '"17th October, a message came for Wainwright from Dover Pier.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. In entering the name of the sender we do not enter any initials.
EDWIN MILLS HEARD , I am in the service of the post-office at Stratford Broadway—it is my duty to enter up the messages in the abstract book each day—I produce the abstract-book in which I find an entry on 17th October, 1874: "Surname of addressee, Wilmore; office of origin, Dover Pier"—that shows that a message was sent on that day to Wilmore from Dover Tier, and that is all I know about it.
SUSAN WELLS . I am a widow and live at 12, Valentine Road, South Hackney—in 1873 I lived at 44, St. Peter Street, Hackney Road, and let apartments there—in October, 1873, I let my apartments to Percy King, the prisoner Henry Wainwright—he brought Mrs. King with him; the apartments had been taken by another party for them previously—I knew the lady as Mrs. King—it was about the last week in October—Percy King did not stay there; he only visited occasionally—he assisted in getting the luggage in that evening, and I asked him when he was going to return—he said "I shall not return this evening; I leave this lady in your care; she is to have all she requires"—he said she was Mrs. King—he hesitated for a few moments, and then said that she was his brother's wife—she remained there till the last week in April, 1874—in September, 1873, she gave birth to a child which was named Marian—Mr. King came to see her in her bed-room the first or second week of her confinement—no one was with him then—he came to see her occasionally after that—on another occasion, after she went out, he came again with another man, who I asked into my parlour to sit down while Mr. King went upstairs—Mr. King remained upstairs a short time, and then called his friend up—he said "Edward, I want you," and the man went up—they remained up together some minutes, and the two children were in the room at the time with them—the friend Edward then came down again, and remained again in my parlour for some minutes till Mr. King came down—they were in the house altogether about an hour and-a-half—I let them out and they went away together—the same person, Edward, came again very shortly after—Mrs. King had left my house to go out, and Mr. King and this friend brought her home in a cab between 12 and 1 o'clock at night—I let her in—Mr. King sat in the cab, and his friend saw her into the hall where the gas was—it was between 12 and 1 o'clock when the cab came to the door—I let her in—Mr. King sat in the cab during the time—I heard him laugh, and the other one, the friend he called Edward, saw her into the hall, and the gas was burning: the lights were burning all over the house, upstairs, as well as in our apartments—I am quite sure it was Mr. King; he did not get out of the cab—I was afterwards taken to Bow Street to see Thomas Wainwright, but I could not recognise him—I said to the best of my belief he was the party that was brought in as Edward, but I was not quite positive—I said at that time that I could not identify him, but now to the best of my belief he is the party—I said I was not positive, and I should not like to go too far—the man I speak of did not seem to have any whiskers or beard; he had a slight moustache, but ho looked do very much altered at the time I was brought to see him that I really could not say.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. This matter of the cab occurred soon after Christmas, 1873—Henry Wainwright never slept at my house—mine is a small house—a gas light was burning in the lobby, inside the fan-light, a single burner, high enough for a person to pass under it—there is a small passage from the street door to a second door, about a yard or two—I did not speak to the man in the cab or sec him at all.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. To the best of my belief I stated the same at the police-court that I have now—my evidence was taken down at the Treasury after I went to the police-court—Mrs. King went out on the Christmas morning to be churched—I believe that was three weeks and 1 two days after her confinement—it was very soon after she was out again that the interview I have spoken of took place—there was nothing to call
the matter to my mind again until I saw the account of this affair in the newspaper—I had never seen the person before, and never saw any more of him till I was taken to the police-court—I don't know that I said before the Magistrate that he had a moustache—it was a very slight one—he did not seem to me to have any beard or whiskers—it was in the afternoon that they came—I was attending to my ordinary duties—I was not in the room with the man during the whole of the time—I asked him in—if my apartments had been let he would not have had the privilege of going into the parlour—I went away and attended to my household work—I saw him go upstairs, because I said at the time "I think you are wanted; Mrs.' King is calling"—I never was in the room within during the whole of that time—the name of Frieake was never mentioned—before I went to the police-court I had heard something about its being alleged that one of the men had passed as Edward Frieake.
JEMIMA FOSTER . I live at 3, Sidney Square, Commercial Road, and have lived there since Christmas, 1873—my daughter Lucy lives with me—I know Henry Wainwright, he came to me as Mr. King somewhere about May, 1874—I had "Apartments" in my window—he came in and said "I see you have apartments here to let; would you mind taking a lady, her nurse and two children in?"—after some conversation I agreed to do so—I said I could not let them at lees than £l a week; he agreed to that—I said "I suppose it is Mrs. King?"—I cannot be positive that he said his name was King, but all his transactions were in that name—he did not say whether the lady was his wife or not, as I know of, but she always passed as his wife; I fancy he said she was his wife; I am almost sure he did—I asked what reference could I have; he said "I can give you a deposit if you wish it, and a reference," he did not give me any reference; he paid me a deposit instead—he said he should not come very often, that he was a traveller, and his business called him very much away from home—he came next morning and said "Is Mrs. King come yet?"—I said "No, she has not been here"—he then left and came again about 11 o'clock with Mrs. King in a cab to look at the apartments—the arrangement was then concluded and she came in the evening with the nurse and two children and Mr. Rogers—they brought their luggage with them—the nurse stayed about seven weeks—Mrs. King stayed till 11th September—whilst she was there Henry Wainright never came to see her; never to come in—I saw him once at the door—Rogers used to come very frequently, and most times he went upstairs to Mrs. King—Miss Wilmore use to come to see her very often, almost every Sunday, and about the end of August she came to stay altogether—whilst Mrs. King was with me I remember a gentleman coming to see her about twice or three times—he went up to her rooms on the first floor; I think one time she opened the door to him herself, or we opened it, and said "It is Mr. Frieake, come in," and he went upstairs—she said she expected a gentleman, and she opened the door, and he went upstairs oh one occasion—once he pronounced his name as Mr. Frieake—I think that was the second time he came, I am not quite certain; but I am almost certain it was the second time of his coming—I let him in both times; I don't think I announced him the first time; I think he went upstairs; I think Mrs. King was looking out. for him and expecting him—I announced him as Mr. Frieake because she was saying in the day time that Mr. Frieake was coming to talk about some furniture, and when he came he said his name was Mr. Frieake
—he asked whether Mrs. King was at home, and said it was Mr. Frieake—I first knew about Mr. Frieake because Mrs. King said that there was a gentleman of the name of Frieake going to give her furniture for two rooms, and he gave his name as Frieake when he went upstairs; that was the second time—I think the first time he went up without giving his name—it was when I showed him upstairs that he gave the name of Frieake, and I opened the door and said "Mr. Frieake"—I did not know that he was the gentleman who was going to give her the furniture till he gave his name—I did not know it on the first occasion—it was the same gentlemen that came on both occasions—she said that he was going to get her furniture, not to get rid of it, and she even said that he was coming to get her to choose what colour she would have—on one of the two occasions that he came he brought a bottle of champagne, and Mrs. King asked me for some champagne glasses, and I went out and borrowed some—I saw him bring in the bottle under his arm or in his hand in a paper, it was a champagne bottle I saw it next day up in the room; I think it was a quart bottle—I got the glasses at the Princess Royal, nearly opposite Mr. Humphreys is the landlord, I went for them myself—I got three glasses, only two were used—I saw nothing more of Mr. Frieake that day, he went out shortly afterwards—I think that was the second time he came—on another occasion after that, I can't remember the date, about 10 o'clock at night, there was a knocking at the door by one of my neighbours on account of a little disturbance in the street—I went out and found Mrs. King with Mr. King as I thought it was, and another gentleman, I think it was the same gentleman that came before, Mr. Frieake—I only just saw them with a passing glance—I am certain it was the same gentleman that came with the champagne—the other gentleman was Mr. King, I am certain—I think Mrs. King was rather intoxicated, she seemed very much excited—I asked her to come in with me, and she said I had no business to interfere with her and her husband, and of course I came in again directly—she appeared to be quarrelling with the gentlemen; they left her on the step of the door and knocked and rang and went away, and she ran down the street after them—I went to the corner and said "Do come in, Mrs. King;" one of the gentlemen was standing on the corner of the kerb, and the other a little distance from him; at last Miss Wilmore went and got her in—next day I gave her notice—I told her I should like her to leave that day week, which I think was on the Wednesday following—she asked me to let her stay two days longer, and I did so, that would be the 11th—champagne was brought on two occasions, once a pint bottle, and once a quart bottle; Mr. Frieake brought it, not the same day, it was some days before, about a fortnight before Mrs. King left, I think, the first time he called—I am almost sure it was the last time he called that he brought the pint, and the other time he brought the quart, he went out for it after he came in—I am almost certain it was the small bottle that he brought last, now I come to think, the first was a large bottle—it was a week afterwards I think that he brought the second one, I know one was a pint and the other a quart—except on this one occasion Mrs. King was a well conducted person, I never saw anything wrong in her—twice before I think she came home very much excited, but nothing to speak of, a little the worse perhaps for a glass of anything—on other occasions she conducted herself quite as a lady, as we thought—once about a month before, she came home about 9 or 10 o'clock in the evening, she had been out the whole afternoon and she was a little more talkative,
and made herself a little more free with us, that was all—she seemed very fond indeed of her children; they both slept in her bed when she had not got the nurse; before that one slept with the nurse—she left on Friday, 11th September, and she paid me all that was due to me—we parted on friendly terms, we shook hands and I bade her good bye, and watched her round the corner of the street—I never saw her again alive—she had with a small paper parcel which she carried on her finger with a piece of twine, and a new umbrella—I don't know what was in the parcel—Miss Wilmore left later on the same day, with the children, about 6 or 7 o'clock—I saw Thomas Wainwright at the Borough Session-house—I was taken to see him—I had seen him before at Leman Street, but I could not recognise him then, when he was in the Borough I thought he was the same gentleman that brought the champagne; he had very little whiskers at that time—I did not notice whether he had any moustache, I only just let him in at the door as he passed through the passage, and I could hardly say.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. It was only after some remains had been discovered which were said to be the remains of my late lodger, and that Henry Wainwright was in custody, that my mind was carried back to the taking of my lodging in April, 1874—I had no reason to think of my lodger from September, 1874, up to the time that the discovery was made; there was nothing resting on my mind—I saw Henry Wainwright when he took the lodging—he came three times altogether, twice the day the apartments were taken, and once before—I never saw him in the house afterwards—I saw him in the cab on the night of the disturbance, that was quite 10.30 at night, at the latter end of August or the beginning of September; it was the same gentleman that had taken the lodging—I tapped him on the shoulder, and said "Mr. King I will go and try and get her in," and she said "How dare you interfere with me and my husband."
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. The person who passed as Mr. Frieake, was the only gentleman that called on Mrs. King—I saw nothing more of him after 11th September, 1874—I don't know whether my daughter let him in once—I think I let him in most times; I have not said that Mrs. King let him in once—she was at the top of the stairs and asked him to come up, that made me pronounce his name—there is only about a dozen steps from my passage—the stairs are right opposite the door, about 4 or 5 feet, and about ten or twelve steps up to the first floor—it was quite evening, I think it was gaslight—she said "Come up," and he stepped up at once—that was the only occasion on which I had to announce him—I heard of the discovery of the body on the Monday morning, I think, not till Mr. Forster came, I think I was taken to the Leman Street station, after Thomas Wainwright was taken into custody—I did not know that I was taken to see the man who had passed himself off as Mr. Frieake—I don't believe I had heard that—I was shown some men together in the police-yard; I was told to have a good look, and I did have a good look, and I could not recognise anybody there, it was not till I saw Thomas Wainwright sitting in the dock at the police-court with the other prisoner, that I began to have any recollection of him—I then said he was about the size and stature of the man—I. said he looked very much like the gentleman, and I believed very possibly he was the man—I said there the man had very light whiskers and a very light moustache, and I have said to-day that he had rather light whiskers—that was my impression at the time—the only time I speak to was his coming on one occasion when Mrs. King was at the
top of the stairs, and said "Step up Mr. Frieake"—I asked his name and announced him—on the night I went out and saw the disturbance, I saw two men moving and am positive one was Mr. King, who I spoke to—I came back and saw nothing more.
JAMES HUMPHRIES . I am a licensed victualler, and keep the Old Red Lion, 339, Strand—I was proprietor of the Princess Royal public-house, I and 2, Sidney Square, in August and September—that is immediately opposite Mrs. Foster's—I knew the prisoners—I have known Henry six or seven years, and Thomas four or five years—sometime in the autumn of last year I saw both the prisoners in my house together—the last time I saw them was Saturday, the 5th September—I saw them only once before at the Princess Royal, about a week previously—they were together on that occasion—I fix the date by my day book—I had to give the necessary notice for the transfer of the license, but I do not fix it by that date, but by an entry I made in reference to lending some champagne glasses—I remember the circumstance, it was on 5th September, and the two prisoners were at my house from 4 to 6 or 7 o'clock, they smoked two cigars and had some soda and brandy divided—my barman in my presence supplied them with a pint bottle of champagne first, and then with a quart, within an interval of half-an-hour or an hour—the pint bottle was taken away, I do not remember who by, but it must have been by one of them because they were the only persons in the private bar—I did not see it taken away by them, but I infer that it must have been; I saw it on the counter waiting to be taken—after the champagne was taken away Mrs. Foster came to borrow some champagne glasses—there must have been two or three, because I made this memorandum to remind my storekeeper that our cabinets were short of champagne glasses—within an hour I should imagine after Mrs. Foster borrowed the glasses, Thomas Wainwright had a quart bottle of champagne which he took away with him and did not return—Henry was not there when the second bottle was taken away—on the same night between 9 and 10 o'clock, I saw both the prisoners outside Mrs. Foster's house, when a disturbance happened, and several other people.
By THE COURT. I am able to fix it as September 5th, because after the handing over the champagne glasses I had to wait to see some one respecting the transfer of my license, and I had to make my way west and to come back, and then it was 10.15, and it takes me half an hour to go from house to house.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I was keeping one public-house at that time, but I have four, my own property; one is in Long Acre, one in the Strand, one in Sidney Square, and one in the Whitechapel Road—the licenses are held by different people, one of whom is my brother—I conduct the business by means of managers, who are my servants, and go about from one to the other, giving all my time and attention to them—I had had the Princess Royal about two years and was going to transfer the license to my brother's name, which was done on 28th September—I devote my time principally to the Princess Alice—I was transferring Mr. Forster, my billiard marker to the position of manager—I had two barmen and two barmaids—the person who was to succeed to the license was not there—the transfer of the license docs not mean the transfer of the public-house, but a transfer from one servant of mine to another servant of mine—it was about to go into the name of Robert Humphries, my brother, and until the license was transferred Forster was manager—he is not here, nor are the barmen that I know of—
I did not go before the Magistrate on this charge and never gave an intimation to any one that I could give evidence—Inspector McDonald called on me four or five times, I think—I cannot tell when he called first, but to the best of my knowledge it was a fortnight or three weeks previous to my having to go before the Grand Jury last Session—I went to the Treasury a fortnight or three weeks before that—Mr. McDonald had an appointment to go with me to the Treasury, which I did not keep, and another which I did—he took me there.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I first heard of this matter by seeing it in the "Daily Telegraph"—it did not occur to me that I should go and give some information, I did not know at that time that there was any question about Thomas Wainwright being Frieake—I read everything, and still I did not go the police—Mrs. Foster had been examined at the police-court at that time and I had seen about the champagne glasses—I had seen Thomas Wainwright several times before August, 1874—I had seen him with his brother Henry in my public-house in Whitechapel Road, but not very frequently—that public-house is conducted by my son, it is one of the four between which 1 distribute my energies; I am there very frequently.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The prisoners both went away with the pint bottle of champagne and came back for a quart bottle, and did not return again—I cannot tell at what time Thomas went out with the quart bottle, but to best of my memory it was about half an hour to an hour afterwards—I was just leaving my premises that night to go to the West End when the disturbance happened—I am positive as to the date. (The following letter was here put in: "Mrs. King, 3, Sidney Square, Mile End Road. Dear Pet,—E. F. is coming down at 7 to-night. He will give you a call, with a message from me. Yours, c, P. K.") (The post mark on the envelope was September 5, 1874, London, N.E.)
AMELIA STANLEY . I live at Bow, and am the wife of George Edward Stanley; a master mariner—I am related to Mrs. Foster, of Sidney Square, and was on a visit at her house in August or early in September last—a Mrs. King was lodging there; I only saw her once; I was only spending one evening, I was not staying there—I remember Mr. Frieake calling—Mrs. Foster announced him and left him in the hall while she did so—I was sitting opposite the parlour door, it was open and the gas was burning over his head, he had not taken his hat off, he stood there two or three minutes, went upstairs, and I did not see him again; he had a moustache, but no whiskers or beard—Thomas Wainwright is the man to the best of my knowledge, without the whiskers.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Miss. Foster was left in the room with me—we were chatting when the knock came we were not doing needle-work—Mrs. Foster got up and went to the door—Miss Foster was on the other side of the room while her mother was out—this was in August, 1874, and my attention was not called to it till 7th October, 1875—I had never seen the man before that night, and never saw him after till I saw him in the dock at the police-court—I had some conversation with Mrs. Foster about the case—I did not know when I was called to go the police-court that Thomas Wainwright was the person charged as having been Mr. Frieake—I have never seen Henry Wainwright—I do not remember saying at the police-court that Thomas was the man to the best of my belief, and that he had a fair moustache, but no beard or whiskers—I said he had a moustache and a clean shaven face—I remember you questioning me at
the police-court, but I no not remember you asking me whether I knew that the man I was going to see was supposed to be Teddy Frieake—I went to the Treasury to have my evidence taken—I had then seen Thomas Wainwright at the police-court—I was two days at the police-court, and was afterwards fetched to the Treasury and made my statement—I signed my depositions after they had been read over to rue at the police-court.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The man who was announced as Frieake had a medium moustache as to length; it was not dark.
JOHN BAYLIS . I live at 149, Whitechapel Road—I am an oil and colourman—amongst other things I deal in chloride of lime—I knew Henry Wainwright, carrying on business in the Whitechapel Road—on 10th September last year an order for chloride of lime was given to me—I do not know who gave it—it was either from Henry Wainwright or Rogers—the quantity was half a hundredweight—it was packed in a box, and I believe it was sent by one of my men to 84—it came to 7s. 6d.—the box in which it was packed was sent down from Wainwright's—it was not paid for—I never sold any chloride of lime to Wainwright before—I do not know whether it was sent by one of my men or one of his.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. When we sell small quantities of chloride of lime for cash they are not entered at all, but I book it if it is not paid for—I do not profess to keep in mind all the numerous transactions in your shop—mine is a ready money business—my books have not got into arrears; that is an error—it is simply this rough entry book: mine being a cash trade very little is entered in it—it has not been posted for nearly two years—there may be a few entries in it besides mine—sometimes my father comes to town and makes a few entries—whenever I take an order it is put upon a piece of paper, and I enter from that—I enter what is filed, but there is not always an order on the file I am sorry to say—there was no order in this case simply because I executed the order myself—I will not swear that there was no written order—my shopman also serves in the shop, and a second hand who acts as carman, and a youth—if either of them received an order it would be their duty to put it on the file, and I should enter it in the day book, but that order was executed by myself—I do not recollect whether it was given by Rogers or Mr. Wainwright—I do not think an interval has ever occurred between a transaction and my entering it—I no not think such a thing could happen while I am on the premises, but I am not infallible—I cannot tell what might happen for I only know what does happen—I am speaking of a matter shout which there has been an interval of twelve months.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. To the best of my belief I made all the entries on the same day, 10th September—they are all in my writing—it varies because sometimes the book is in this position and sometimes in this, and my hands are hard at work, and not always so steady at one time as another.
Thursday, November 25, 1875.
CHARLES TITIENS . I live at 84, Berners Street, Whitechapel, and am in the employment of Messrs. Ashford and Green, of Stratford—I was formerly a porter in the service of Henry Wainwright—I went into the service in July I believe, and I was in the service three years last July—about the middle of September, 1874, I remember taking a case to Mr. Baylis'—Henry Wainwright told me to take it there for some chloride of lime—I did so and left it there—I do not know what became of it—I have
not seen it since—I was in the habit of going to 215, Whitechapel Road for the purpose of packing goods in the warehouse there—I noticed a smell at the back part of the premises about June—I noticed it for about a month before I left—I called Mr. Wrainwright's attention to it, and told him there was a stench, and asked to have the ashes removed—I thought it came from there—he said he would; they were not removed—it was a kind of faint smell—I could not say exactly what it was—I bought two half-pennyworths of chloride of lime and paid for it myself, and sprinkled it over the ashes in powder—the door leading into Vine Court had two bolts to it and one lock—it was always kept locked and bolted—I used to get in from the front entrance—on one occasion I saw it open when some fixtures were being removed—they went to Mr. Martin's, and they were taken out by that door—I believe that was about two months before I left.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I did not notice the smell after putting down the second quantity of chloride of lime—I did not hear Henry Wain-right give directions for the rubbish and ashes to be removed—they had been accumulating for a long time—there was quite a cartload, if not more—it was all ashes—it was not removed when I left in July, 1875—the Rogerses were living there at the time upstairs, they went out in April—I worked at No. 84, and I had to go to 215 as well—when the Rogerses were living at 84 there were complaints of the smell of the drains at 215—I did not notice any smell at 84 myself—Rogers complained of the smell of the drains at 215 before he went to live there—Mr. West was living there at that time—that was before July, 1874—I am sure it was Rogers who complained, and West as well—I do not know how long West was living at 215—r do not know whether complaint was made of the drains at the time West was there—I never heard of complaints made of the drains at 84—I had forgotten about the taking the case to Mr. Baylis until Detective Forster came to me about the 23rd September this year—he asked me if I remembered it—that was how it arose—I was working at 215 usually, all the time the place was opened—I remember the things being brought from 84 and being loaded at 215 for the purpose of going to Mr. Frieake's sale rooms—I believe only two lots were sent there—I remember a van coming one evening about 6.30, and it came the following morning to take the rest of the things—I was there with Rogers in the evening, when the van came—I do not remember Vostius being there—I did not notice how long it took putting the goods out into the van—we shut up from about 7.30 to 8 o'clock—very likely that evening we may have been later than usual—8 o'clock is my usual tune for leaving work—when it became dark the gas was lighted at 215—it was dark by 8 o'clock in September—we had not the gas alight when the goods were being loaded in the van—we had finished by daylight—we worked by-gas light when it was needed, but on this evening we had finished before we had occasion to light the gas—I and Vostius generally packed the goods at 215—that was the ordinary place for packing the goods—Saturdays were not very busy days—from July to November, 1874, Mr. Wainwright generally made it a practice to clear up on Saturday—he always paid us our wages on Saturday—what I mean by clearing up is getting the place ready for Monday morning's packing—I used to leave before Rogers.
Re-examined by MR. POLAND. I was employed at 84, and used to go to 215 to do any packing that there might be, if there was no packing to do the premises would be shut up, sometimes they shut up earlier at 215—the
goods were made up at 84 and what were required for orders were sent over to 215 to be packed—84 was the retail shop—when we had finished our packing at 215 the doors would be closed until we went there to pack again: they would not be open all day long—there were some days at the latter part, just before I left when 215 was not opened at all—the two big doors of the warehouse were kept closed—the van that came on the evening that I speak of came to 215—I did not notice it at 84—the goods were put into the van at 215; I do not remember how long the van was there—I believe the premises were shut up before 7.30 or 8 o'clock; I have no clear memory about it—after the fire at 84 the business ceased there and the goods that were not consumed were taken to 215—the lotting of the goods sent for sale was before the fire.
GEORGE WILLIAM ROGERS (re-examined). I live at 11, Teddington Terrace, Tredegar Road, Bow—I was formerly in the service of Henry Wain-wright—I entered the service the 11th August, 1873, and continued there until April of the present year—during that time he had the premises 84 and 215—up to July 1874 Mr. West lived at 215—from that time until November, 1874, they were not used as a residence—shortly before the fire I went there to live with my wife and continued to live there until April of this year—before going there 1 had been living at 84 with my wife, from July until the beginning of November—I knew Mrs. King; I first saw her at St. Peter Street at Mrs. Wells'—Henry Wainwright asked me to take a letter with some money in it, that was in February, 1874, I believe; he said "Will you take this letter for me to Mrs. King? say it is from Mr. King, there is 5l. in it, and obtain a receipt"—he did not say who Mrs. King was, the letter was directed to her—I took it there and gave it her—Miss Wil-more wrote the receipt out, and I gave it to Henry Wainwright the next morning—I do not think Mrs. King signed it, it had a stamp on it, I found the stamp; that was the first time I had seen Miss Wilmore or Mrs. King—I think 1 went to that lodging again on two occasions afterwards with messages or letters from Henry Wainwright—rill usually left them in the tea hour after 6 o'clock—he did not say what the letters were—I remember Mrs. King leaving these lodgings; I went there on that day—Mr. Wainwright told me to go and get a cab to take Mrs. King and the two children to No. 3, Sidney Square, and he gave me 10s. to pay for the expenses—that was in the evening in the early part of May—I went to the lodgings as directed, got a cab, and took Mrs. king, the two children and the luggage—Miss Wilmore did not go with us, we picked up the nurse at the corner of the Bethnal Green Road, and then went to 3, Sydney Square, I helped the luggage upstairs and left them there—I saw Henry Wainwright the next morning and told him what I had done—I think I have been to 3, Sydney Square perhaps four or five times with money and letters from Henry Wainwright—I saw Mrs. King there—I took 5l. on one occasion and 2l. on another and gave them to her; I did not get receipts for those I think the last time I took money was when I took the 2l. and Mrs. King threw them on the table and said "That is no use to me, as I have to pay my rent;" she appeared dissatisfied—I think that was one evening about the middle of August—I saw Henry Wainwright afterwards and told him Mrs. King was dissatisfied with the amount—he said "Oh, all right, never mind," some short answer, I forget the words—I have sometimes been there without taking money; I was sent by Henry Wainwright to say that he would send it to her shortly—on one occasion the message was that he would send to her shortly when lie had settled his business with Mr.
Sawyer—Mr. Sawyer had been in partnership with him, and there had been borne disputes—I think it was sometime in July, that I took that message—it must have been the commencement of July, that I took the 2l.—on one occasion when I went there Mrs. King showed me a telegram like this (produced)—I could not positively swear it was this, but the words are the same—she handed it to me and I read it—she made some statement to me about it; I left it there; I afterwards saw Henry Wainwright—I told him that Mrs. King had received a telegram from him stating that I and he had gone out of town, and it was false, because he knew that I had not left town—he said "Oh, never mind," or something short; I need not trouble myself very much about it—this was sometime, about the middle of July; I could not say exactly; I think that was the last occasion that I went to Sidney Square—I have seen Mrs. King, at 84, Whitechapel Road, at least a dozen times from the time I entered Henry Wainwright's employment—she used to come to the shop, and I have seen her and Henry Wainwright talking together—the first time I saw her there after I had Last seen her in Sidney Square, was I think the end of July I don't think she saw Henry Wainwright then—she came again some time in August—the last time I saw her there was almost the end of August—during July and August, I saw her there two or three times—the last time I saw her there she saw Henry Wainwright (at that time he was living at 40, Tredegar Square, Bow, with his wife and five children)—she saw him in the front of the shop; I was sitting in the counting-house—I heard nothing that took place; I saw them apparently very quarrelsome, gesticulating—I could not hear a word—that was the last time I saw her—I can't give the date—it was sometime in August—I remember on one occasion Mrs. King being ill at 84; that was at the commencement of August 1874, I saw her for a moment—my wife told me of her being ill; I only know it from my wife—no one lived at the premises, 215, from July, to November" 1874; during that period the premises were locked up, and the keys kept at 84, behind the counting-house door, and the counting-house was. not locked up at night—there was a broom rack on wheels with a door to it, and the key of that door was always kept by Henry Wainwright—it was a sliding broom rack which formed a passage to the dwelling-house—when the shop was shut up; it was a partition with a door in it, and that locked up the counting-house and the shop; that would lock up the keys—Henry Wainwright always took home that key home with him—when I came in the morning I could not get to 215 to do any work there, and I have sometimes said to him jokingly "I shall fine you if you are not earlier," that was when I wanted the place open—I remember in September last he speaking to me about some chloride of lime; I think it was on the 10th, he asked me to inquire of Mr. Baylis the price of chloride of lime, that he had got an order from South end for a I cwt.—I went and inquired at Mr. Baylis, which is only a few hundred yards from 84, and took him the price, I forget the quotation, but he said it would do; I don't think I. ordered it—Henry Wainwright only dealt in chloride of lime for the police contract when he had it, which was sometime afterwards—the police contract was for small stores—we only obtained that contract in the early part of this year—at that time he did not deal in chloride of lime—he was the manager there, and I was the chief man; I did not know of any customer at Southend—on that day after the shop was shut up, I saw a box on the premises—I we it arrive from Baylis', that was the same day I had inquired the price,
after the shop was closed, which was at 8 o'clock; it was brought in a hand truck and placed in the passage by Baylis' man—I saw that done—I could tell by the smell that it contained chloride of lime; it was so pungent—my wife saw it and spoke to me about it—it remained there during the night, and next morning before the shop was opened I saw it lying in the passage—I did not see it removed, and do not know who removed it, or where it went; I missed it while I was upstairs at breakfast, that would be about 8.30 or 9 o'clock; when I came down it was gone—Henry Wainwright came to business, sometimes at 8.15, 8.30, 8.45—there were complaints of the drains at 84 while I was living there—no chloride of lime was need for them to my knowledge while I was there—the premises at 215 at that time were only used specially for large orders, sometimes nobody went into the premises for days, only for opening and shutting them, they were opened and shut everyday, and kept open till the time of closing at 84—the shutters were taken down, so that there would be light for any packing that was wanted, but the place was thoroughly closed—the doors would not be open; nobody could get in, we had the keys at 84—at the time I and my wife were living at 215, I noticed a smell at the end of the shop—I could not say when I first perceived it; I should say shortly after Christmas—I put it down to the accumulation of ashes and other vegetable refuse, we had no dusthole there—I spoke about it to Henry Wainwright; I told him the smell was very bad and the ashes had accumulated—he said "When Ladbrooks' men pass get them to clear it out"—Ladbrooks are brushmakers, they used to burn all the refuse in their furnace—they were cleared out on one occasion; I smelt the unpleasant smell again as they accumulated—I only spoke about the smell on one occasion, to my knowledge—at the latter end of July, 1874, Henry Wainwright showed me a revolver; it was in the counting-house at 84, he took it from his desk, it was in a green baize bag; it had five or six chambers, I could not say, it was about 9 or 10 inches long, including the barrel—he asked me to pawn it—he said "I am short this week, I bought it of Sawyer, I gave 6. for it; get 2l. 10s. on it"—he did not tell me where to pawn it—it had no case to it—I said these sort of things usually had a case of fittings, and I did not believe they would take it in—he said "Yes, they will"—I then left 84 and took the pistol with me in thegreen baize bag to a pawnbroker in Mile End Koad—I am not sure which pawnbroker it was as there are two close together—I offered it in pledge, but was only offered 15s., so I took it back to 84, and told Henry Wainwright so; he put it in his desk and I have not seen it since.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. When the shutters at 215 were taken down it left a large amount of glass, so that you could see into the ware-house, the whole 110 feet to the end, and owing to the three glass doors at the end of the warehouse, it was very easy to see—in the performance of my duties 1 was going about London getting orders for goods, and the principal part of my time was spent away" from No. 84—I put the prices into the police contract in November, 1874, previous to which I enquired at a great number of wholesale places the prices of different articles and a letter was written to enquire the price of chloride of lime—I fancy that the order for the chloride of lime was written on special order paper by one of the clerks—it should have been in the ordinary routine of business, but 1 did not give it myself—any statement of mine that it was a special order paper was because that was the proper course—I did not say it as a fact; we are all liable to mistakes—I said at the police-court that it should
have been done—I think my expression was "i think the order was written on special order paper by one of our clerks"—I am not quite certain whether I ever mentioned the 10th day of the month until this hour, but I think I did, and I think I am at liberty to swear that I did—I believe I said at the police-court or at the Inquest that I saw Baylis' man bring a package into the passage of No. 84—I will swear it was at one or the other—I believe I said at the police-court "I do not know what became of it for I did not see it in the morning"—I think I never said that I saw it in the passage before I went up to breakfast and that when I came down again it was gone—at first I said that the 2l. was at the end of August, but I altered that and said that it was at the commencement of July—I went from May to July to the house—I said once that it was 2l. and once that it was 5l., and that I took those two sums between May and July—that was true—I was discharged by Mr. Sawyer in April, 1874, and I was kept by Mr. Wainwright—I entered his service about the 12th July, 1874—I was not in the service between April and July, 1874, when Mr. Sawyer was receiver—I was taken into service by Mr. "Wainwright on 12th or 13th July, when the business was settled—when difficulties in business arose through Mr. Behrend's claim I did not negotiate with Mr. Behrends to become the proprietor, of the business 215, Whitechapel Road; he mentioned it to me, but I would not—something was mentioned to the effect that I was to become the proprietor, and he to supply the capital—it was merely done to benefit Mr. Wainwright until the fire action was settled—I have been engaged on two occasions as the travelling agent in advance of a dramatic company—I think the first occasion was in 1869—I went in advance of the company through Yorkshire and did a very great deal all through the North—I was not in the service of Miss Edith Sandford but of Mr. Charles Wood—Miss Edith Sandford was the principal member of the company—my wife, formerly Miss Susannah Clementon Dalby was not with me—I was married to her on the 6th June, 1859, at the parish church of St. George's, Bloomsbury; at least it is 18 years ago; I do not know the date—I have not seen her recently, but I have heard of her—I do not know whether she is alive or not; I heard of her about six months ago—I joined the same company in May, 1873, at Leicester—the witness Mrs. Jane Rogers joined there—I was going in the name of King then; it was my mother's name—I was married to Jane Rogers in April, 1872.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I was fifteen years of age when I was married to Susannah Clementina Dalby—she was the same age—we were married without the consent of our parents—we did not live happy together—I was ultimately married to Jane Davis in 1872—before I married her I sought legal advice—I went in 1869 as travelling agent in advance of a dramatic company, and went to every town where they were going to perform to make arrangements for them, and I went again in 1873—Mrs. Davis, my present wife, was certainly not one of the Company—I took the name of King when I was travelling agent, at Mr. Wood's desire—Mr. Wood, my employer, was the manager of the dramatic company—I did not tell Henry Wainwright that I had travelled as King—as I joined in advance I was known as King, but as Mr. Wood's subordinary I was known in my own name of Rogers—I was known by two names—that was done to fill the bill up, and make the company stronger—Wainwright 'lid not know that, but I told him my name was Rogers, aim referred linn to the manager for a reference if he desired it—I was discharged
by Sawyer in April; I recollect there was a Chancery suit, and he became the receiver some time after Christmas—after I was discharged by Sawyer Mr. Wainwright paid me my wages just the same, from April to July—Sawyer, after his affairs were settled knew me to be manager for Wainwright—the affairs were settled in July, and of course during the interval I did whatever Wainwright wanted me to do—I believe I said before the Magistrate that the box of chloride of lime was delivered after the shop was closed; I was living at 84; it was brought in a hand cart and I took it in—I believe I said "I know it came from Davis; I don't know what became of it"—I was before the Coroner and examined as a witness—I said something about the chloride of lime being at No. 84—to the best of my belief I said that it was brought in late in the evening by Baylis' man—when No. 84 was open the shutters of 215 were down—it was kept open as long as 84 was open—when the shutters of 215 were put up, the shutters of 84 were put up—we could see from one end of the warehouse to the other in the day time—there was a paint room at the end of the warehouse where brushes were kept—it was partitioned off, and a door led to it from the rest of the warehouse—the only light in that room was a gas burner—there was no glass light in the paint room—the partition of the paint room was partly taken away while I was there—the police contract was made on the last Friday in November last year—I recollect when I began to make enquiries about the price of the articles; that it was about a fortnight or three weeks before the commencement of November—my wife was confined early on the morning of 12th September—she spoke to me about the chloride of lime; that was before her confinement; on the 10th.
JANE ROGERS . I am the wife of the last witness—we lived from July to November, 1874, at the upper part of 84, Whitechapel Road—while I was there a young woman, whom I knew as Mrs. King, came to the house to visit Henry Wainwright—I have seen her there on several occasions with him at the end of the shop and in the counting-house, which was at the end of the shop; I have seen her in the shop, I cannot say whether she has remained there—I have seen her sitting in the room with him as I have passed through the shop, but I have not heard what they said when they were together—one evening I heard loud talking, but I did not hear what was said; it appeared to me as if they were quarrelling—the particular evening I am speaking of was about the beginning of September—I heard the talking for some minutes; I saw her go out that night, through the fanlight of the door, and Henry Wainwright followed immediately after—I remember on another occasion hearing a noise or disturbance at No. 84—it was in August, as far as far as I can recollect; I cannot say the exact date—I heard loud voices in the shop, and the words "Don't! don't!"in a woman's voice in a loud tone, and then Henry Wainwright called my husband—the voice was in the shop—my husband went downstairs—it was after the shop was closed, after 8 o'clock—immediately afterwards the shop door shut; I heard it slam, and Henry Wainwright went out, I believe—soon after that the bell rang and I went downstairs and answered the door, and Henry Wainwright came in; but before 1 opened the door I saw the door in the passage which leads to the shop, open—I looked into the shop and saw Mrs. King lying on the floor, but I did not go in, I went and opened the door—'Henry Wainwright came in—i said "Mr. Wainwright, there is a woman lying on the shop floor"—he. said "Oh, is there? she has only fainted; will you give me a little vinegar, please?"—I returned upstairs and brought some vinegar down and saw the
woman lying on the floor, she appeared to be insensible; she did not speak—Henry Wainwright took the vinegar and said "Thank you, I can manage now," and I returned upstairs—I heard them go out about a quarter of an hour after—that is all that occurred—I remember a smell at No. 84 which attracted my attention on 10th September—what makes me remember that was because I was in a delicate state of health, and it was the last time I went our. previous to my baby being born on 12th September—the smell appeared to proceed from a square case which I saw in the passage on 10th September—my little girl fell down on the 11th and I was upset, and my baby was born the next day—I smelt what appeared to me to be chloride of lime, both on going out and coming in; I was taken ill on 11th—chloride of lime always makes me feel sick, and that smell made me feel sick; I spoke to my husband about it—I have seen the prisoner Thomas at the shop in Whitechapel Road with his brother a great many times; he wore a moustache, but he did not have any whiskers at at all; his moustache was rather slight, but not large, and he had no beard.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. There had not been complaints of smells at No. 84 to my knowledge prior to September, 1874—I did not know much of the place when Mr. West lived there, he lived at 215, not at 84, to my knowledge—the room I occupied at 84 is over the shop; I was sitting there when I heard this talking in the kitchen; I believe my husband was with me—there may be a dozen stairs between the kitchen and the passage into the shop—the talking lasted few some minutes—I did not go downstairs on that occasion, not right to the bottom of the stairs, I went part of the way down and then came back again—I may have seen Mrs. King twenty times at No. 84,1 cannot say exactly; it was not always in the evening, I have seen her in the day tune, and on three or four occasions after the shop was closed—I never knew her by any other name than Mrs. King—I went to the Treasury on 18th September, I do not remember the date, but I asked my husband—I went there with him and made a statement there—Inspector Fox had come to me cm the Monday previous when my husband was present—I saw no one after that in reference to the case before I went to the Treasury—I saw Mr. Pollard, I believe, at the Treasury—I went into the room next after my husband, and was asked questions and gave answers—I remember being examined by Mr. Poland at the police-court—I believe my husband was called at the police-court on the 5th, as well as on the 6th; I went there with him, but be—was not in Court at the time I was examined—on 6th October some earrings had been shown me; I had closely observed Mrs. King's earrings and admired them very much; I do not know the pattern exactly, I know there was a fringe round them—I did not identify those shown me at the police-court on 6th October as those worn by Mrs. King, but I said that they were like them because they had fringe round them, I do not know whether they were brass or gold, but Mrs. King's earrings appeared to be gold—I know as a fact that Mrs. Izzard has sworn that these earrings are hers—I did not tell the Magistrate about my hearing a woman in the shop saying "Don't! don't!" or about Henry Wainwright calling my husband down, or my seeing the woman on the floor and fetching the vinegar—I first made that statement last week to Mr. Pollard at the Treasury, I can'tsay the day—I was not examined before the Grand Jury last Session, but I was in attendance—the lunring the loud talking had gone quite out of my mind until it was recalled by hearing of this matter—it was after I had given my first evidence that I
remembered about the vinegar—I was in the kitchen on the 5th with my husband and the servant—Henry Wainwright called my husband a few minutes after I heard the words "Don't! don't!"—I don't know whether my husband heard the words; he went out and was absent half an hour, or it might not be so much—he was not there when I fetched the vinegar; it was a short time, I can't say how long, between his going down and my hearing the shop door slam; I cannot say how many minutes it was between my hearing the door slam and my hearing the bell ring—there was a light in the shop and in the passage also—Mrs. King was lying a very little distance inside the door—I afterwards went into the shop to take the vinegar, and went close up to her; she appeared to have fainted—I did not notice whether there was any water near—to the best of my belief this was about the middle of August—the loud talking was at the end of August or the beginning of September—I was in a delicate state of health, expecting my second child—the little girl who fell downstairs was my first—the shop used to be closed at 8 o'clock, but our some occasions it was kept open later—I do not know whether Wainwright paid the workpeople on Saturday nights; I was not in the shop to see—I have frequently seen him there on Saturday evenings until the shop closed, he sometimes went out after the shop closed.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. This is Mrs. King's photograph (produced); the face is very much like her—it was the loud talking which attracted my attention, and I went part of the way downstairs—after being before the Magistrate I talked to my husband and different people about the case and about the woman being found—it was the talk of the neighbourhood—I don't know the date when I went to the Treasury—the earrings I admired had a fringe, and so had those which were shown me—they looked so nice that they attracted my attention—I know Miss Wilmore—I remember her coming to 84 and 215.;
GEORGE WILLIAM ROGERS (re-examined). I remember an occasion when Mrs. King was at 84, being called down from upstairs where I was with my wife, by Henry Wainwright—before I was called down I heard nothing particular—I went down and saw Mrs. King close by the partition door Henry Wainwright handed me a letter to take to 40, Tredegar Square—Mrs. King snatched at the letter and tore it open in my hand—I kept the letter and went out with it—was going to take it to Tredegar Square—I did not do so—I read it; I thought it was a piece of nonsense and I did not deliver it—I was out for about half an hour—I told Henry Wain-wright I had not taken it—it was from himself addressed to Mrs. Wain-wright his wife—I took the letter home and threw it behind the fireplace. (The Attorney-General proposed to ask the witness as to the contents of the letter, but the Lord Chief Justice declined to receive it, as the defence had had no notice of this evidence.)
JOHN MATTHEW STEELE . I am foreman to William Dicker, a pawnbroker in the Commercial Road—I produce two pawn-tickets; one of them is in my handwriting and is for a wedding-ring for 10s., on May 1874, in the) name of Ann King, 3, Sidney Square—the name of King was given to me—I don't know that she gave the name of Ann—I put "Ann" as it was pawned by a woman; we put "John" and "Ann" for man and woman—we affix a ticket to the nigh and give a duplicate—I also produce a keeper ring, for Ss.—that ticket is in the writing of George Overall, who present—I cannot from memory tell when these rings were taken out of
pawn—when things are taken out the tickets are taken from them and put on a file, on which the days are kept separate—the duplicate tickets are pinned together and filed, and they are kept for three years—a tab or memorandum is put between each day on the file—I got these tickets from the day's file of 11th September, 1874—I made a memorandum on the ticket when I took it off that that was the date.
GEORGE OVERALL . I am now an assistant to Mr. Rowley, a pawnbroker of 44, Ledbury Road, Bayswater—I was formerly in the service of Mr. Dicker, when Steele was foreman—this ticket for the keeper ring is my writing; it was pawned in the name of Ann King, 3, Sidney Square, for 85. on 22nd May, 1874—I wrote out the ticket myself—I don't remember whether I advanced the money—the ticket has the foreman's initials on it.
HERRIBIN MASON LEETS . I was in the employment of Mr. Dicker, twelve months ago—I see some writing of mine on these two tickets for the wedding-ring and keeper—I gave those things out of pawn some time in September last year—19s. 1 1/2 d. was paid altogether—there was 13 1/2 d. interest—I do not remember who took them out; they were taken out together—the tickets are then filed the same day—each day's tickets are kept separate—we do not endorse the date on them when the things are taken out—the figures "11-9" on the back are not my writing.
JAMES KAY . I live at 7, Barchester Street, Poplar, and am a blacksmith in the employment of Mr. Wiseman, coach-builder, of 216, White-chapel Road—I have been in his service upwards of sixteen years—my brother William is also in his 'employ—we were both working there in September last year—I remember in that month doing some work on a van of Mr. Martin's at the back—part of our premises there is an open-fronted shed in the yard, the back of which goes against the back part of 215, Whitechapel Road—there are gates to the yard leading into Vine Court—this was an extraordinary heavy job for us—young Master Wiseman, my employer's son was assisting us—I make an entry of my work in a book—this (produced) is it—it is a memorandum book in which I put down the work I do—I have an entry here in my own writing about this job; and on referring to that I am able to say on what day I was doing this job—it looks to me like the 11th September—in my judgment it is the 11th September—I made the entry on the evening of the same day as the job was finished—we were at work from about 11 o'clock in the morning till between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening—we finished it in the one day—the book has a loop and a string to it; it was kept hanging up in the shed—I referred to it for the purposes of this case on 20th September last—it had been hanging up behind the door ever since it was done with last year, and I found it there on 20th September—while we were working at the van between 5 o'clock and 7 o'clock, about 6 o'clock as near as I can recollect, there were three loud reports of pistol shots—I was under the shed at the forge at the time—I had got a heater very nearly ready to bring out—the reports seemed to come over my head, from the direction of Wainwright's premises—there were about six seconds between the shots as near as I can say—they were very rapid one after the other—my brother ran and opened the gates and went into Vine Court; young Mr. Wiseman followed him—they went in the direction of Mr. Pinnell's gates. (The witness pointed out the position of the plues on the model.) I called them back again, because I had got a heater hot and was just going to heat one of the tires together—they came. back
directly and shut the gates—I did not leave the yard; we went on with our work and did not take any further notice—in September this year I heard of this case.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. This was between 5 and 7 o'clock in the evening—I only get at the date by the book, you—will find the date of the year on the outside leaf of the book; inside—I put the date of month without the year—I read the entry as '"September 11th"—the second figure is much longer than the other—it look like two strokes to me—I have said that I would not like to swear it was not the 19th—my employer copies from this book when he makes the bill out, perhaps a week or a fortnight after, perhaps longer—he copies it into a book of his own—I don't recollect saying that I would not swear it was not "17th"—my attention was called to the figures since I have been a witness, and I have looked at the figures—I don't think there is much doubt that there are two strokes—it cannot very well be the 17th, it does not look anything like a 7—we generally do Mr. Martin's work—he has two vans, and this was the largest—I am quite sure the job was not finished because something' was hot which induced me to call back my brother and Mr. Wiseman—the tyres were not on—the next entry is "oiling the big van"—we should oil the front wheels when we put on the tyres—we only had the front wheels off—the big van came to be oiled something less than every month, and then there would be a separate charge—we should make the entry in the book when the work was finished, and previous to its going out of the yard—we should put down the details—I cannot say how soon the van went home—it was in the yard when I went away—it went home the same night, or early in the morning before I got there—I had frequently heard shots fired in Mr. Pinnell's yard—I was a witness at the Inquest on the 1st October—that was the first time I gave evidence on oath—my brother William was called as the next witness to me—young Mr. Wiseman was not there—the charge against Henry Wainwright caused a great deal of excitement and gossip in the neighbourhood—before I recollected anything about this matter I heard that the surgeons had found bullets in the head of the remains—before I recollected that, a gentleman connected with a newspaper saw me and my brother at Wiseman's place and made inquiries without introducing himself—I do notthink he asked me whether I remembered hearing any shots, nor did he ask my brother in my presence—I have said "I did hear the surgeon say that bullets were found in the head of the deceased, and a gentleman from the newspaper asked me if I recollected hearing any shots fired, and I said "No;' then walked out of the shop, that was on Friday"—that was true, I did not remember at the moment, I was busy with the work, and did not stop to talk to him—I know he was connected with a newspaper because he called on the Saturday a second time, and told me so—I was not there when he asked my brother, but when he came again on the Saturday my brother and I were there, and he spoke to old Mr. Wiseman, and to my brother—it was my brother who first recollected about the shots—I do not know that before he recollected it he said that he did not recollect it—my brother and I and young Mr. Wiseman, might have had half-a-dozen words about it after that, if that is what you cull talking it over, but we did not do so to my recollection—Sergeant Forster called on me, and after that I talked it over with my brother and young Wiseman—I told Forster that my brother recollected it first, and I then did—that was before I was examined at the Inquest—if! recollect rightly I bind that the
three shots took about six seconds—I believe he asked my brother how long he thought it was; I said six seconds, and my brother said "That is just what I said"—I have always said that 1 could not fix the time nearer than between the hours of 5 and 7 o'clock, and my brother agreed that he could not fix it nearer, and he remarked I believe that it was just upon tea time, sometimes we go to tea at 5 o'clock, and sometimes at 6 o'clock—I am going by the space of time; we had to finish the job, before dusk—I did not talk that over with my brother William—we may have talked the matter over three times since the first conversation with the newspaper gentleman—I have not talked over with my brother the running up to Pinnell's Gate, and looking through the key hole, or about the iron being hot and calling them back again, nor did they talk to me about it.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. There were three shots in quick succession something like this (Striking the witness-box three times with his hand) I am sure I heard three—I am sure I heard shots coming from Pinnell's or from that direction, but they were single shots and not shots in rapid succession—I have heard one report one day and one the next, and sometimes I might hear one report in an hour or two hours, but never quickly one after the other—I remember that we were working on this large van independently of my books; I remember the job, and recollect that we finished it that night, and that we had orders to finish it that day before dark—we were working in a yard; there is a shed there—we have been from time to time in the habit of oiling Martin's large van; it is sometimes sent to our place, and sometimes we go round there—my master makes a charge for oiling—I have oiled the van as often as once a fortnight, because the axle-trees are worn out, and they want frequent oiling—I have got the book before me—we had not repaired the axle trees, we only put fresh tyres—this entry on 29th September "Oiling van 4 wheels," looks like my brother's writing; I cannot recollect oiling the van—the entry above it is in my writing—the date above in September, about which a question was made, is in my writing; to the best of my belief that is the 11th—there are one or two entries here in my brother's writing—I think these figures on this right hand page of 1874 are mine—this figure 7 means the 7th—it does not say of what, but here is "8th September, 7 new spokes"—I think this "September 29, Mr. Heaton's van'" must be my writing—there is not much difference between mine and my brother's writing, but I think it is mine.
WILLIAM KAY . I am the brother of James Kay, and am a wheeler by trade—I work for Mr. Wiseman, and have done so about twelve years—I have seldom worked with my brother at the same job—I remember last year a job being done to a very large van of Mr. Martin's—my brother and young Wiseman were working with me at that job; it was a heavy job—whilst we were at work my attention was attracted by three reports of a fire-arm—they came rapidly, in about six seconds as near as I can recollect now, not between them, all three of them—they were very quick in succession—they appeared to come from just outside our gate, on the left corner; that would be Wainwright's premises; they seemed very near indeed, just outside our gate—it seemed an ordinary report from a pistol, or something of the kind—I don't know much about the sound of a gun or a pistol—it was between 5 and 7 o'clock as near as I can remember—on honing the reports I ran out and opened the gates leading into Vine Court, and looked but could not see any one—young Wiseman followed me
out—after looking about I went towards Pinnell's gate and looked through the key-hole, but I saw no one in there—I know that Mr. Pinnell has a pistol; it is an ordinary old pistol; I have seen it hanging up in the shop, a single barrel—whilst we were looking about my brother called us back, and we went back to work, and went on with the job; we finished it between 7 and 8—I know this must have been after August, 1874, because we had a man working there up to the last Saturday in August, and it was in consequence of his leaving that I went out to help, being a heavy job my brother wanted somebody to help him—I have no idea how early in September this might have been.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. There was a great deal of excitement outside Mr. Wiseman's premises after Henry Wainwright was in custody, people were coming about there—on one occasion a gentleman connected with the newspapers asked me and my brother whether we recollected about the shots, and I said no—I recollected it the next day—I talked it over with my brother on the Saturday, as Detective Forster came on the Monday—after he came my brother and I very seldom had anything to say about it, we had something else to do—we never talked the whole matter over: as we thought of anything we reminded one another of it, that is all—I was not in Court at the inquest when my brother was examined—I did the gestures at the inquest, something like that (dappinghands); at the police-court I said the time was six seconds; I did not do the gestures there—I don't know that my brother did, I was not there to know—I did not talk about the six seconds with my brother—I could not fix the time of day nearer than between 5 and 7, because it was the tea time, and tea time varies—I did not talk that over with my brother—we were considering what job we had done—that was what we went by: we could tell how long the job was done before dark: that was how we got at the time—I said that by the time the job was done it was nearer 8 than 7 o'clock—I am not sure that the van went home that night—I have no recollection of its stopping there two or three days, my impression is that it went home either that night or the next morning—when I was at the inquest I recollected about looking through the key-hole of Mr. Pinnell's door—I am not aware that I forgot to say anything about it—I believe I mentioned it—I dare say 1 partly read my brother's evidence at the inquest—I did not read the evidence of every witness—I dare say I read my own—I believe it was me that mentioned about looking through the key-hole, not my brother—I had not talked with him about it—I don't know that he knew anything about it.
Re-examined by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I went out and young Wiseman followed me—my brother stayed in the yard—I did not see him out there—I don't recollect the van coming to be oiled (looking at a book)—I went round there to do it.
JAMES WISEMAN . My father carries on business at 216 and 217, Whitechapel Road—I assist in his business—I remember some time last year assisting the Keys in a job, I don't remember what it was—I assist them pretty often—I think I was blowing the bellows at the forge under the shed—whilst there I heard three reports so, (tapping the witness box slowly three times) about that as near as I could judge, coming in succession one after the other—it was in the evening, somewhere between 5 and 7 o'clock, I should think—on hearing the reports Will Kay wont out into Vine Court, and I went with him—we could not see anything, and we came back in a
minute or two—I could not say what mouth it was in—I had never before heard three reports one after the other like that, not about there, never hut one, that was from the back part of Mr. Pinnell's premises—I know that he sometimes fired a pistol, and have seen his pistol—it is a single barrel.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. One of the Kay's asked me if I remembered three pistol shot, and I at first said no, and then 1 remembered them—I don't remember which of the Kays it was—I talked it over with hem not more than once or twice, I think—I did not remember it for the minute—I am quite sure that I remember it now.
MARY JANE TREW . I am the wife of James Trew and the daughter of Mr. Wiseman—I live at home with my father, and did so in September last year—I was in the habit of keeping his books—James Kay had a little memorandum book, from which I used to enter up my father's books; I mostly copied it—we only keep one book, this is it (produced)—I copied it into that—the top entry on the right hand side is my writing—I copied this from the memorandum book—I have no independent recollection of when Mr. Martin's van was repaired; this entry is all I know about it—I have put it down here as the 9th, I believed it was the 9th when I saw the book—I must have thought so at the time I copied it—perhaps I made the entry two or three days after the work was done, it might have been a week, I can't remember, I don't know when it may have been done—I do not know anything but what I gather from this book—when I saw this book lately I thought it was very much like a 9.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I am accustomed to copy the writing of this workman, he has been a long time in my father's employment; I have done all the copying.
JOHN HOOD PINNELL . I am an oilman carrying on business at 214, Whitechapel Road, next door to Wainwright's, and did so in September, last year—I have a pistol, a small single barrelled one, only a toy, I have it in my pocket; it is not a revolver; I have been in the habit of firing it in my back yard—I have fired it several times a day frequently, with small bullets and cartridges, for amusement—I generally kept it hanging up in my shop e—I have known Henry Wainwright for many years as a neighbour—I remember Friday 10th September of this year, I was in my shop and he came in about 11 o'clock or 11.30 in the morning, and asked for some cord—I sold him eight yards, for which he paid 2d., and took it away—it was the day previous to his apprehension, I recollect it perfectly—it was rope similar to that produced, but I cannot swear to it.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I have had this pistol four or five years—I have been in the habit of practicing with it from time to time during the whole of that period—it loads with a cartridge in the breech, you can load it pretty quickly—I had nothing particular to fire at, I fired at anything I happened to see, merely for amusement—I did not use it at night—very probably I might fire a dozen or half a dozen shots—I keep the cartridges in my pocket, you simply lift up the hammer and put the cartridge in.
Re-examined by the ATTORNEY GENERAL. When the shot is fired the case of the cartridge remains in the barrel, you have to lift up this and take it out with your fingers, it does not throw it out itself.
we carried on business in partnership from November, 1873, to January, 1874, as brushmakers at 84 and 215, Whitechapel Road—I did not reside in either of the premises—my clerk, Mr. West, resided in the house portion of 215 till about 15th July, 1874—the partnership was dissolved on 8th of January, 1874—after July 1874 I believe 215 remained unoccupied for some time—after the partnership was dissolved I acted as receiver under the Court of Chancery in getting in the estate—I took possession of the keys of both 84 and 215—I examined the property on the premises; there was a private office at 84 on the first floor—I and my partner had the use of that—I afterwards examined the desks and other things in the office, and in one of the drawers I found a packet of bullets, in a small tin box, or a brown paper parcel—it was in a drawer of one of the pedestal desks I had both keys of that desk—they were conical-pin fire bullets, bullet and cartridge together—I passed them over to Henry Wainwright as I found them—he said they were his—I have not seen them since—I have a revolver of my own; I have here a bullet belonging to it—I never sold a revolver to Henry Wainwright—I should say the bullets Henry Wain-wright took away were a size larger than mine—here was another desk downstairs in the counting-house of which he had the key—he had that exclusively to himself—I allowed him to have that key because he had his own papers there—I never opened that.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I have my revolver here—I don't know the number of it.
SAMUEL HESSAN BEHREND . I am a solicitor—in September, 1874, Henry Wainwright was introduced to me and some money was lent to him through me by a client; as security for which I took a mortgage on the premises 215 and 84, Whitechapel Road, and some life policies also formed part of the security—I have the mortgage deed with me—sometime in 1875, about May or June, I wrote to him about the repayment of the money, and I have no doubt I also spoke to him about it—it was to have been repaid in the early part of the year—I threatened to eject him, and I issued a writ of adjustment; but at his request I never served it—I took possession of 215 as soon as I saw that he was a bankrupt—I saw the advertisement of the appointment of a trustee in July—I put a man named Albert Francois in possession on 14th July, 1875—afterwards, on the 18th July, I put Mrs. Izzard in possession; the authority was to her husband, but I always saw her—he was recommended to me by a constable in the police force—Mrs. Izzard brought me the key either on the 31st July or 1st September—when I got possession I instructed a bill to be put in the shop window at 215 to advertise the place—I also instructed Frangois to paint and fix large boards outside—I never saw the bill; I saw the board announcing that the premises were to be sold, and application to be made to me—I think it was "The lease of these premises to be sold "apply to me at such an address—the lease was sold in the early part of October.
ALBERT FRANGOIS . I am a house decorator, of 31, Greyhound Lane, Fulham—in July this year I got possession from Mr. Behrends, the mortgage, of 215 Whitechapel Road—I had no key—I fixed up two boards in the shape of a "V," on which was, "The lease of these premises to be sold enquire within or at Mr. Behrends', 30, Bucklersbury"—I did not remain in possession very long; I gave possession and the key to Mr. Behrends.
by Mr. Behrends—we remained there six weeks all but two days, and occupied the rooms in the front part facing Whitechapel Road—we used the kitchen, which is on the first floor back—there were parts of old brushes there which we used to burn—while we lived there Henry Wainwright came pretty nearly every morning for his letters, and I used to give them' to him—that continued up to the time we left—I had some old metal earrings, and before I left I threw them into the kitchen fire-place, but I took the rings out of them and wore them—I bought them for common ones, and when I threw them away they were almost black—I left an old umbrella and an old slipper there—I was shown the ear rings before the Magistrate—I do not know whether Henry Wainwright had a key of the premises; I always let him in—one day he tried the door with a key; but there was no lock on, only a padlock and bolt—I do not know that he had a key of the back door.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. When any one wanted to make us hear, the proper course was to come to the back door—Inspector Fox has my earrings now, I had had them between two and three years; I do not know whether they were remarkable, but I never saw any like them—a policeman came on Saturday night and told me that they were sworn to as Mrs. King's earrings, and I said that I had thrown them away.
Re-examined by MR. POLAND. I went to Stones End police-station—I bought the earrings at a stall in the street, at Paddington.
WALTER ARCHER . I am now an invoice clerk to Messrs. Venables Son, of Whitechapel—I have known Thomas Wainwright eighteen months—I entered into his service in January of this year as an assistant—he opened the business of an ironmonger's at the Hen and Chickens; the house had been closed before—I was the only person in his service at that time—a stock of goods was brought into the premises—I remained with him four or five months, until the latter end of June—during that time I have occasionally seen Henry Wainwright there, perhaps five times; I never saw them there together—goods passed from one to the other—I remember an execution being put in, a man being put in possession about the middle of May—there was a sale after that, in June—the sale was under the control of Mr. George Lewis, who is an accountant in the Borough—Herrick's man was in possession (the auctioneer)—the door was fastened by a padlock outside to which there were two keys—after the sale a new padlock was put on, I believe, by Mr. Lewis' instructions and he had the key of it, which he kept at his place; I do not believe there was more than one key to that padlock—after the sale, the business at the Hen and Chickens was discontinued, and all the things were cleared away, and I left—I went into Mr. Lewis' employ temporarily—from the time of the sale I remained there almost a fortnight—at that time the key of the padlock was 'in Mr. Lewis' place—Thomas Wainwright came to Mr. Lewis' a few days after I had been there and asked me for the key of the Borough, (meaning the Hen and Chickens), Mr. Lewis was out, but I gave it him—he asked me if I would have a glass of stout, and afterwards with Thomas Wainwright I met Mr. Lewis—I went into the office while Mr. Lewis and Mr. Wainwright had some conversation which I did not hear—I told Mr. Lewis I had given the key to Thomas Wainwright—on the following Friday I saw Thomas Wainwright again, but nothing passed about the key—I noticed a change in his appearance, he had some hair missing from his face; I do not exactly remember whether it was his moustache or any hair shaved off here—in his ordinary appearance, he
wore a slight moustache, not particularly light, nor yet particularly dark—I do not remember whether he wore whiskers or beard; he used to shave, and the difference in his hair was parting it down the middle—this is the key of the padlock, to the best of my belief, that I gave to Thomas Wainwright.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. At the time he parted his hair differently he used to have the services of a barber—I noticed the change in his hair at Southwark police-court, and the other change I noticed on or about the 2nd July—the sale took place on the 28th June—Herrick was an officer of the Sheriff of Surrey—I continued on the premises until the property was sold, until 28th June; as soon as it was sold I went into Mr. Lewis' office from a week to a fortnight—on a Tuesday before July 2nd Thomas Wainwright came to my master's office and asked me for the key—the new padlock was bought shortly before the 18th; before the sale, not after it—no person was left on the premises—I went into Mr. Lewis's office after the sale and the key was hanging up over the mantelpiece—I never saw it from the time I gave it to Wainwright till it was put into my hands at the police-court—I had business on the premises after the sale—Mr. Lewis was coming over the bridge, and to the best of my knowledge Wainwright had a conversation with him—I should say that 9d. was about the price of the padlock, it was a very common one—the property being seized under a judgment, Mr. Lewis had no right at all on the premises, so I gave the key to my former employer, Mr. Wainwright.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The first change I noticed in Thomas Wainwright's appearance was about his face—I do not recollect whether he had whiskers or beard—one of the two had gone—he was bare where he had had hair—I don't think his moustache was gone—I noticed that there was a difference about the appearance of his face—when I saw him at the police-court, his moustache was gone, and his hair was parted down the middle with a little curl on each side—I do not recollect whether he wore whiskers at the police-court; I don't think he did—(he had a moustache when I saw him in July)—either his beard or whiskers had gone, it might have been his moustache; I did not take stock of his appearance.
By THE COURT. The sale being over, Mr. Lewis had no right to the premises and was not entitled to the key—Mr. Lewis bought a new padlock so that Mr. Wainwright should not get in when there were goods in the house before the sale—after that there was no necessity to keep him out.
GEORGE LEWIS . I am an accountant, of 14, Southwark Bridge Road—I have known Thomas Wainwright nearly six years—in November 1874, he asked me if I would discount a bill of his brother's—he did not tell me what the money was wanted for—I said "You are not friendly with your brother"—he said "Yes, I am, I have made it up with him"—I said "Get me the bill and I will look at it, and let you know"(I was aware some years ago, that he was not friendly with his brother)—he brought me the bill the following morning; this is it, it is dated November 20th, at two months, drawn by Thomas Wainwright, accepted by Henry Wainwright, for 30l. payable at the London City Bank, Whitechapel—I communicated with his brother, who wrote me a letter and I discounted the bill—Thomas wore no whiskers at that time, but he had a small fair moustache; I afterwards discounted this second bill for him for 62l., at four months—it is drawn by Thomas Wainwright, and accepted by Henry—those bills were both dishonoured—they were not renewed, and I had to lay an attachment
against the money which was in the Sun Fire Office, coming to Henry—the arrangement was made between me and Thomas Wainwright, because he was to receive 300l. from his brother when that money came—I laid the attachment against the the two bills, making 92l.—I made that arrangement with Thomas, in consequence of his telling me he was to get 300l. of it—he said "When my brother gets his money I shall receive 200l., and if you attach it you will get your money"—he was in no business then, but told me he was about taking the Hen and Chickens—I do not know what he had been doing previously, I had not seen him for three years—I have the lease of that place here, Mrs. Shaw is the landlady—he did ultimately take the Hen and Chickens, and stocked it very nicely with ironmongery goods—I lent him not only this 22l., but 19l. besides unfortunately for me—I took a bill of sale on the goods of him—I had sued him on the 30l. bill, and threatened to put in an execution—he said "Don't do that, I will give you a bill of sale on my goods"—that was on the 92l., and 17l. or 18l. besides, Mr. Herrick took possession under the execution and I told him to levy—on the same day as the sale, the man refused to remain in possession unless a fresh padlock was put on, as seven or eight lots were left, and I got a fresh padlock for the door—that was on 18th June, the lots were to be cleared the same day, but some gentleman could not clear his lots—after all the lots had been taken out and delivered I locked the place up safely, brought the key away with me and hung it up in my office under the clock—there was only one key there—I did not know that Archer had given the key up—when I returned from the City to my office, I found my papers all turned about, and 1 said "Who has been here"—Archer told me that Mr. Wainwright had taken the key from the nail—I know that he had removed the key from the place—the signature to these bills is in Thomas Wainwright's writing I know his writing—I produce a letter in Thomas Wainwright's writing, dated 21st November, 1874—I do not know Henry Wainwright's writing—this receipt for some boxes dated May 29th, 1875, is in Thomas Wainwright's writing, he wrote it in my presence—here is a stamped receipt on it—this paper of 26th July, is also his writing, but I did not see him write that—this paper dated "Wednesday" is also in his writing, but I did not see him write it—this paper dated May 22nd, 1875, he wrote in my presence giving me possession of the premises—I did not see him write this paper of May 10th, 1875, but he sent it to my office, it is in his writing—I am almost certain that this letter marked E is in Thomas Wainwright's writing—there is no question about the others whatever.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Only three of these documents were written in my presence, and I am more clear about the others being his writing than I am about letter E—the lease of the Hen and Chickens is not to Thomas Wainwright only, but to him and a person named Moore, and. another person it is a joint lease—I had no instructions giving me any title to the premises themselves—there was no writ authorising the Sheriff to take possession—the lease has not been executed at all, he went away and left the premises—everything to which I had a title on the premises was removed before the key was obtained—Thomas himself advised me to put an attachment on the money coming from the Sun Fire Office, and he went with me to see it done, in order that I might get repayment of the 92l. owing on the two bills of exchange, and the 18l. of which I have never received a shilling, as the goods only realised 7l.—I charged the usual interest, I charged him 50 per cent, for the money—he would get over 80l. out of
the 30l. and the 62l., because it was done by the month—that was my rate of charge—I was asked before the Magistrate, and I did not give the same particulars about the attachment as I have to-day—Thomas had whiskers when he was in the dock before the Magistrate, but he had not worn them previously—I saw no difference in him barring the whiskers—I will not be positive whether I have mentioned before to-day "a small moustache fair in colour"—Moore was a partner at one time, but he went away in difficulties.
J. M. STEELE (re-examined). This is my file on which the tickets of each day are kept distinct by a tab—there is a fresh tab at the end of each day—these are five months tickets—I find here the tab for September 10 and 11, 1874—these two tickets (produced) were taken from the part for September. 11, 1874—in my daily balance book in which I entered the number of tickets delivered on that day, I find here in my own writing that the number delivered on that day was thirty six, here are thirty four on the file now, two have been taken off.
Friday, November 26th, 1875.
WILLIAM GRAYDON . I am manager for Messrs. Rowlandson, of 83, Whitechapel Road, upholsterers—I have known Henry Wainwright seventeen or eighteen years—on the 10th September of the present year from 1 to 2 o'clock, I saw him at our shop, he asked for two yards of thick leather cloth, and I supplied him with it, it was common black American cloth, the commonest we have—the price of it was 1s. 4d. or 8d. a yard—he did not say what he wanted it for—I have been shown the American cloth by Inspector Fox, it was similar in quantity and colour to that, just the same.
HENRY YOUNG . I am assistant to my father, a livery stable keeper in Whitechapel Road—I have known the two prisoners ten or fifteen years—on the 11th September between 10 and 11 o'clock, I saw them in the New Road, outside Mr. Martin's shop—I know the date, because it was the day Henry was arrested—I was going to Mr. Martin's shop on business—they were talking together, and as I got up to them Henry said "Good morning," and left his brother—I turned round and spoke to Thomas—I noticed that he looked very poorly that morning, and I said to him "You are not looking very we'll," and told him that there was something very different in his appearance—I asked him if he had shaved his moustache off—he said "Yes, yes", put his hand up to his mouth, said "Good morning," and left me—previously I had always noticed him wearing a little whisker, and a slight moustache, but no beard—I remember on the 9th of April last removing some fixtures for Henry Wainwright, at his foreman's, Rogers' request, from 215, Whitechapel Road—there was a good one horse van load of fixtures, I removed them to Collier's Yard, Gloucester Street, Commercial Road—it was a place that Henry Wainwright had had in his occupation sometime, and it was in his occupation then—it was his store place when he had the police contract—when I removed the fixtures 1 took my van to the big door of the warehouse in Vine Court, and Rogers and Titiens took out the things—in taking them out there was an interval, and I went inside the warehouse by the big door—I perceived a heap of ashes on the right hand side as I went in, and some few minutes after I noticed there was a very strong smell—I can hardly describe the smell; it was very unpleasant indeed—I mentioned it to Titiens and said that the drains were out of order—we both observed it.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I knew soon afterwards that Henry Wainwright was in custody, and I knew of some of the details of Stokes' evidence—it was a good time after the arrest of Henry Wainwright before I made any statement—it might have been in November—I talked it over first with my father, and I believe he communicated with Inspector McDonald—a few days after that, Inspector McDonald came to see me, and after a week had elapsed, or a little more from the time of the conversation with my father I saw some one connected with the Treasury—I did not come to the Central Criminal Court with all the witnesses to go before the Grand Jury—during the last nine months I have been on business to Collier's Yard, Gloucester Street, a great many times—there are sheds round the yard, and the middle of it is uncovered—altogether the premises might be about half an acre in extent—the sheds were the ordinary sheds, with doors that could be locked, and stores were kept in them—when I was at the stores on the occasion referred to in April last, I was there about an hour-and-a-half I should think.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I have known Thomas Wainwright for some years, and I had seen him four or five times since last June or July previous to this occurrence—he rode about all day long with me one day—the interview between the prisoners did not occur on the 10th but the 11th, and I fix the date of the removal of the goods through looking at a book—I had seen the prisoners talking together several times before—I and several tradesmen talked about the matter in Whitechapel Road of Henry's arrest.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. There was a great deal of conversation about the case in the neighbourhood—after I had mentioned the matter to my father, Mr. McDonald came to see him, and I was sent for—I made a statement of him I was taken to the Treasury, where I also made a statement I think it was in November I came to the Court last Sessions and the case was adjourned.
GEORGE WILLIAM ROGERS (re-examined, the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE allowing that course to be taken on re-considering the proposition of the ATTORNEY-GENERAL yesterday). I stated yesterday that on one occasion Henry Wain-wright called me down stairs; gave me a letter which Mrs. King snatched at and tore, and which I afterwards threw behind the fire—it was in Henry Wainwright's handwriting—I cannot recollect all it contained—it was "I cannot survive the disgrace," and something "You will never see me any more!"—I thought it was nonsense—that is as much as I can remember of it—there was no particular circumstance referred to as to the cause of disgrace—the letter was in an envelope and was addressed to Mrs. Wainwright; I do not think the letter commenced with any term at all—it was merely "I cannot survive the disgrace"—that was the first part of it I think—in rather more than half-an-hour afterwards I saw Henry Wain-wright again, and told him that I had not taken it—I cannot remember what he said; I met him coming out.
GEORGE WILLIAM FORSTER (Detective Sergeant H.) I took Thomas Wainwright into custody on the 1st October in the Fulham Road, near Carson's Green—I told him that I was going to apprehend him on a warrant for deserting his wife and family—he asked me to show him the warrant, and I told him I had not got it with me, but I had seen it—I took him to the Leman Street police-station, and on the following night he was taken to the Clerkenwell police-court—the charge was dismissed against
him there—the adjourned inquest was held on the previous day on the 1st—whilst Thomas Wainwright was in the waiting room at the Clerkenwell Court—prior to going before the magistrate he said "I suppose there will be some other charge preferred against me in reference to the spade and axe?"—I answered "I expect so," and he continued "I was not coming voluntarily to give evidence against my brother, but to save myself I had better speak the truth"—I said "Stop a minute! what you are going to say I will take down in writing, so that there may be no mistake; it may be used in evidence against you"—he then made a statement and I took it down in the book now before me—he said "I bought a spade and wood-chopper, on Friday the 10th September for my brother at Mr. Pettigrews, 181, Whitechapel Road, for which I paid 3s. and charged him 5s., he having stated that he wanted it for his house at Chingford"—that was all he said—I showed him the statement, and asked him if it was correct, and he said "Yes"—I then said "I have seen Mr. Pettigrew, and shown him the axe and spade, and he states that you bought them or similar ones of him"—he replied "That is quite right; we went round the corner; Mr. Pettigrew had a glass of brandy, and I had a glass of stout"—when the charge had been dismissed at Clerkenwell he was taken over to the Southwark police-station, and thence to the Court—I received five envelopes from Mrs. Taylor—one of them contained the letter marked I—this was the envelope that contained it (produced)—I took out the note and read it—when I had read it I put it back into the same envelope I had taken it from, marked it, put it into my pocket-book, and gave it to Mr. Poland at the police-court—I remember the letter very well—the envelope had the post-mark of the 5th September upon it, and the letter began "Dear Pet"—the other envelopes were also produced at the Court.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I have stated that I took Thomas Wainwright into custody on the day of the first hearing of the charge against Henry, but I find that it was a mistake; my meaning was the first day I was at the police-court was on the Monday after the 13th September—I knew the warrant was out against Thomas, but I did not arrest him until the 20th; I cannot tell the day on which the warrant was actually issued—he spoke to me about the spade and the chopper prior to going before Mr. Hannay, but I did not mention anything to him about the charge until after he was discharged—Mr. Pettigrew who has been in business many years in the Whitechapel Road, told me that he knew both the prisoners well—I did not know Thomas Wainwright, but I have seen him once before—I had his address given to me by Mr. Mason, the warrant officer—I had not known it before.
JAMES CONSTANTINE MCDONALD (re-examined.) I was at the Southwark police-station on the 2nd October last when Thomas Wainwright was there—he said to me "Shall I be taken across to the police-court this afternoon?"—I said "Yes, and you will be charged with being an accessory after the fact to the murder of Harriet Lane; we have found out that you purchased the spade and axe, and that will be proved"—he said "I will tell you all about it"—I replied "If you wish to say anything you had better put it in writing"—he signified assent, and I furnished him with pen, ink, and paper, and he wrote this statement in my presence and signed it, and after writing it he said his brother was a good fellow, and he only did that which one brother would do for another. (Read: "Statement of facts. Oct. 2, 1875. I beg to state that on Friday, 10th September, at 12.30, I was with
some friends at the Black Lion, Bishopsgate Street. From there I called on my brother Henry at Mr. Martin's. He then asked me if I would go and buy him a garden spade and a chopper for chopping wood. I then went to Mr. Pettigrew's, an ironmonger in Whitechapel Road and purchased the articles, for which I paid 3s., and I charged my brother 5*. I was with Mr. Pettigrew I dare say half or three-quarters of an hour. We went and bad a drink together, for which I think he paid. I then took the parcel which was in a sheet of brown paper to my brother at 78, New Road. I then left him. I met Mr. Martin and went into Clayton's, in Whitechapel, and had some sherry. That was about 2.30. From there I went to Golds and had my dinner; from there to the Black Lion, Bishopsgate Street; and from there to 1, Racquet Court, Fleet Street, about 4.30, and from there to the Surrey Gardens, and remained with at least a dozen friends until 10.45 p.m. Signed, Thomas G. Wainwright. "I saw Thomas Wainright searched at the station, and saw some keys taken from him, which 1 produce—I tried one of them to the padlock taken from the Hen and Chickens, and produced by Fox—it locked and unlocked it; it did not appear to me to be the proper key—I have seen the other key that was taken from Henry.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. My attention was first drawn to the key found on Thomas at the police-court—at that time the padlock was affixed to the door at the Hen and Chickens—inspector Fox was directed by the Magistrate to go and fetch it—it was palpable that the key found on Henry fitted it better—I have no special knowledge of the trade of a locksmith—my opinion on that is worth no more than anyone else—it is a very common padlock—it might be bought for 9d.
THOMAS HENN . I am a butcher at Parson's Green—I know Thomas Wainwright—I can't tell you where he was living in September and October 1874—he was at the Rosamond, at Parson's Green, about a twelve month—I saw him there up to the morning on which he was taken; he passed my shop in the morning—I did not supply him with meat—I supplied the name of Raper in that house—I have seen him come in and out of that house of a morning and night—Rapper was the owner of the house—sometimes he used to go away for six or nine months—I say that Thomas Wainwright lived at that house, because some goods came, and the van pulled up in the name of Wainwright—I told them where it was, and they unloaded—I have seen him at the house—it is a cottage.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I have not been examined before in this matter—Mr. and Mrs. Raper were my customers—I. have not seen Thomas Wainwright with Mr. Raper; I have seen him go to the house and come away from it, but I have never seen him in it.
WALTER ARCHER (re-examined). I was in Thomas Wainwright's service from January till the end of June, 1875—he was then living at first at 33, Fentiman Road, in February and March, and afterwards at the Rosamond, Parson's Green, Fulham—I cannot say whether he was only on a visit at the Rosamond—Mrs. Raper from there used to visit him at the shop at the Hen and Chickens—I never saw him at the Rosamond.
FREDERICK PETTIGREW . I am an ironmonger at 81, Whitechapel Road—I have known the prisoners some time—I remember selling a spade and an axe to Thomas Wainwright, on 10th September between 12 and 1 o'clock in the day—I charged him 3s. for the two as he was in the trade; the real price would have been 5s.—it would be impossible for me to say if these are
the articles I sold him, because I supply other ironmongers along the same road and there "was never a week passed without their sending for goods—they were like these, the same style and appearance and make—they have marks on them, not the marks of my house, only the prices I sell them at; the other is a private mark, what they cost me—I have no doubt they were sold by me to some one, perhaps they may have been sold to some other ironmonger; they have passed through my hands at some time and through; my shop, or they would not have my mark—he said he wanted them for an order.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I have known him eight or nine years—when I was applied to about the matter I could not remember the day—the mark is not a private mark of the firm, only a private mark of what they cost me—the axe has on it "H H" and "1—9"below, that is the selling price, "H H" the cost price—it is my own writing—I have been in business there over twenty years and my mark would be known—the spade is marked in a similar way—I had not seen Thomas Wainwright for some months before—I did not notice any change in his appearance—I had some refreshment with him.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. The mark I have pointed out I put on myself that private mark would only be known to myself.
By THE COURT. I know this sale took place on 10th September because Detective Forster came to me about a fortnight after—I say it was about the 10th; I cannot say for certain.
FRANCIS JOHNSON . I am a builder and decorator, living at the Mount, Whitechapel Road—I know Henry Wainwright—in 1874 I had instructions from him to do some repairs at 215, Whitechapel Road—amongst other things we stippled a window in the warehouse—it was a window, looking from the kitchen—through it you could see into the warehouse—it is the only window in the warehouse on that side—there was some broken glass; some new glass was put in and then stippled, so that it could not be seen through (Explaining on the model). I think we commenced on Monday, the 2nd November, 1874, and ended on Saturday, the 21st—we were not all this time about the window, but doing general repairs in the warehouse—at that time the house was vacant, but Rogers moved in as soon as the repairs were finished—I remember Henry Wainwright being declared bankrupt and a meeting of his creditors—I was one of them—I could not tell the date from memory, but I think it was about July of the present year—there was a committee of inspection chosen at the first meeting, and I was one of the committee—I think it was the beginning of August, after the committee had been chosen, when I saw some fixtures being taken away from 215—they were taken from the back part of the premises, Vine Court—I was talking to Mr. Wilcox at the time—his premises run down to Vine Court, he has an entrance there—Mr. Martin's men brought a truck load of fixtures away—I spoke to them, and after a second truck load had gone away I saw Henry Wainwright—he went by Mr. Wilcox while I was standing there—I did not speak to him—I should think this occurred between 8 and 9 o'clock in the evening of a Friday in the early part of August, after the declaration of his bankrupcy—I am still on the committee of investigation.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I know the difference between liquidation by arrangement on the petition of the debtor, and the adjudication of bankruptcy—it is not a fact that the July meeting was the first meeting of creditors under the clause for liquidation by arrangement—I think it is a
fact that before the second meeting for the receiving a proposal for the debtor Wainwright was in custody on this charge, and afterwards the proceedings were taken into bankruptcy—I attended the first meeting of creditors at the Bankruptcy Court and was then appointed one of the committee—he was declared bankrupt by someone in the City Road, I believe—the liquidation by arrangement was last year—I was a creditor in that as well as this—I heard that the fixtures that were removed in August were sold by the sanction of the trustee—a portion of them to Mr. Martin—the repairs to the house were necessary to make it inhabitable for Rogers and his wife—Rogers was about at the time and saw me doing the repairs, and he might have suggested as to what would add to the comfort of his residence there—a pane of glass was broken in the window, and a new one replaced it, and all were stippled the same color—before they were stippled you could not see in from the kitchen—there was no difficulty in looking through the window if the glass was clean, no matter what level you were on—if Mrs. Rogers was there, persons might see a figure—I was not examined at the police-court—I was subpoeaned last Tuesday as a witness—I should tell you that Henry Wainwright thought of letting the house, and therefore he did not wish the tenants he let it to to have a view from the dwelling-house info his warehouse—that was the cause of the window being stippled.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY GENERAL. He told me that he thought of letting it when he gave me instructions to repair the house and to have the window stippled—I said that I thought it was a very good suggestion that they should not see from the dwelling-house into the warehouse—I was a creditor under the liquidation of 1874—there was a dissolution of partnership between Henry Wainright and Sawyer—the liquidation was by arrangement—the creditors were before Mr. Sawyer came into the firm—he came in about November—the bankruptcy was in 1875—there was only an arrangement with creditors in 1874—the creditors of Henry Wain-wright were paid 12s. in the pound, 6s., and I think, two 3s.—it is in Bankruptcy now.
CHARLES GROJEAN RENNIE L'ENFANT . I am a clerk in the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of the proceedings there with reference to the affairs of Henry Wainright—there was a proceeding for the liquidation of his affairs in 1874, the first instalment in seven days—there was a meeting on 15th May, 1874, at which a resolution was come to to accept 12s. in the pound, 6s. in seven days, 3s. within a period of three months, and 3s. within a period of sis months from that time—on 30th June there were proceedings in bankruptcy by a petitioning creditor, and Wainwright was declared bankrupt—those proceedings are pending still—the dissolution of partnersnip was on 10th July, 1875, and Robert A M'Cleaa was appointed trustee.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The Act of Bankruptcy does not appear in the proceedings; they are for 59l. 14s. for goods sold and delivered—it does not proceed to state that it was the old debt—the second meeting of creditors was on 10th November, 1875—between the first and second meetings Wainwright was taken in custody—nothing was done before the second meeting—the 6s. in the pound was to be paid in cash by the debtor in seven days, bur it was not paid—here is the certificate (produced), that shows that the two second instalments were complied with and not the first—the date of the certificate is 30th Juno, 1874—the 6s. in the pound was property in the
hands of the trustees which they could, and did realise—it was secured by promissory notes of the bankrupt. (The Court directed the witness to retire and examine his papers.)
FRANCIS JOHNSON (re-examined). I think I can put this matter right—it was arranged that the bankrupt was to pay 6s. out of the 12s. in seven days—that was paid, and so was the second instalment, but I think I was the only one who got the third instalment of 3s.—it was not generally paid.
CHARLES CHABOT . I live in Red Lion Square—I have made handwriting my study, and I have had a large experience, extending over many years—I have examined letter E and the documents placed in my hands, together with one headed "Statement of Facts," written and signed by Thomas Wainwright—the papers I have before me are the Statement of Facts, numbered 1; a letter from Thomas Wainwright to Mrs. E. Lewis; another letter, signed Thomas Wainwright, dated Wednesday evening, May 29th, 1875; a letter signed "Thomas Geo. Wainwright," which is dated July 26th, 1875, it does not say to whom written; and a letter dated November 21st, 1874, to Mr. George Lewis, signed "T. Wainwright"—I have not seen the memorandum dated May 29th before—those documents are all in the same writing, and there is no doubt in my mind that the person who wrote the letter E wrote these other documents—I can point out a number of instances of similarity between them—letter E, in my opinion, is not disguised, it is in a natural handwriting, and is no doubt the bond-fide writing of the person who wrote it. (MR. MOODY objected to the reception of this evidence, as the witness was asked to give his opinion upon what was only another person's opinion. The Attorney-General contended that as Mr. Lewis had sworn to the letters to the best of his belief, they were admissible. The Court considered (he evidence admissible.) I now have all the documents here—I may have seen this paper (another) at the police-court—it is dated 10th May; it is in Thomas Wainwright's writing, I can see that—I do not wish to refer to it, but there are some points in it which are useful—in letter E here are the words "I am," and the "I" is connected with the "a" in a very distinct manner; and in the concluding word of the letter marked "4" the words "I am" are as nearly as possible identical with the words "I am" in letter E—the word "Wednesday" in the memorandum has all the characteristics of the word "Wednesday" in letter E; there is a break in the middle of the word, and the "d" in the middle of the word is made in the same way and the "y" is made in the same way—there is a little difference in the "W"—the manner in which the "it's" are crossed is conspicuous, but the whole word is conspicuous in agreement—the letter "r" of the word "Frieake," in the signature to letter E is like the letter "r" in the word "trunks" in the memorandum of 29th May; it is also like the "r" in the word "remain" in the 22nd line of the statement marked 1—the "as" in the word "friends" in letter E is extremely characteristic, and the formation of the "ds" in the word "goods" in memorandum 2 and in this document are equally characteristic—the "s" is as it were looped en to the "d"—the formation of the final letter "y" is very characteristic in the writing of Thomas Wainwright, and it is very conspicuous in the letter E—there are two instances in letter E where the words "rashly" and "kindly" follow each other, that only occurs once in letter E in the word "solemnly,', and in line 8 in the word "any," in line 10 in the word "marry," and on page 4, line 2, in the word "distinctively—the same remark applies to the "y" in the word "sherry," and in the Statement of Facts in line 14 and
17 the word too is characteristic—besides the characteristic letters in the two documents I am quite satisfied that the general character of the writing is the same—I cannot rely wholly upon it but it is an element in my consideration that there is a similarity between the one and the other—it is good writing but of a common stamp—I did not take those two letters and form an opinion at once,; but there is a strong resemblance, so that they appear to be the writing of one person.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. The writing is entirely undisguised, it is a bona-fide writing; it is an honestly written letter as far as the writing is concerned. (The following letter was here put in: "I have told you I objected to your writing to me at present I will meet you on Saturday, at 4 o'clock, the same place as last Saturday. P. King." The envelope was dated February, 16th, 1874. "Mrs. King, Mrs. Wells, 70, St. Peter's Street, Hackney Road." The initials "E. W." were on the envelope. The following was also put in: "Dear Madam,—Since I wrote to you yesterday I have heard news of them. I will see Miss Wilmore and let her know about it. In haste, yours, P. King.)
HENRY WILLIAM FRENCH . I am a locksmith, of Kent Street, Borough—I have examined a padlock and one key produced by Inspector Fox and another by Inspector Macdonald—this one is the proper key, the other does not belong to the lock, but it will open it—it was made for a different sized lock.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. I have not opened the lock—I can form an opinion of the wards from the description of the lock—it is a common one—it might cost a shilling or 1s. 4d.; if it only cost 9d. it must be some years ago—both keys will open it, but one is not large enough in the bit.
FREDERICK GEORGE LARKIN . I am a surgeon in practice at 44, Trinity Square—on Saturday, 11th September, at 5.30 in the afternoon, I was called in to see the remains of a human body—I was shown two parcels containing the remains of a female—I made a short examination then, and on the Monday I gave some evidence about them—some portions were in a mummyfied state, dry and shrunken, and some in a state known as adipo-cere, decomposed and moist—the parts had been separated very an scientifically—the body was divided into ten parts; the head and neck one part, the two hands, two arms, one trunk, two thighs, and two legs and feet. connected—some portion of the pelvis was absent—I noticed that on the first occasion fragments of the pelvis were attached to the thighs, and a portion of the knee-cap was attached to the right thigh—a part of the kneecap was also connected with the left leg—at my first examination I noticed the hair; there was dried blood upon it—the body had been recently divided—I could not at that time form an opinion as to how long it had been dead, no more than a long time—I made another examination early on Monday morning, the 13th, before giving my evidence, simply to identify the parts as constituting one entire body—I found that the parts put together made up a body—I did nothing more on that occasion—I made another partial examination on the 14th with Mr. Smith; simply to remove the viscera, and I then observed a cut in the throat—I removed all the viscera except the brain, which was in such a soft watery condition that I could not remove it—I put each viscous into a separate glass jar, which had been thoroughly cleaned out with distilled water, for any possible subsequent examination; they were scaled up and I locked them up in the vestry and kept the key—on the 16th I made an examination together with Mr. Bond—I formed an
opinion that the woman was about 25 years of age, from the condition of the wisdom teeth; all the wisdom teeth were cut except one, which was evidently being cut at the time—she was of a slender make, about 5 feet in height; the hands and feet were proportionately small with the other frame of the body; I mean they were small for the body—in order to ascertain the height we put the parts as nearly in position as possible, and repeatedly measured them—the cutting up had been done very roughly and very recently—it must have been done by some chopping instrument—I have seen the chopper produced; it might be done by such an instrument—I could not say that a knife had not been used; it might have been used for some parts—there was a very great deal of dirt on the body mixed with chloride of lime—chloride of lime thrown upon a body would tend to preserve the external parts more especially—it is a disinfectant, and I believe it has a tendency to preserve anything put upon it; it retards the decomposition of those parts with which it comes in contact—its principal agency is to deodorize—I found no quick-lime—we found a fracture of the skull, just behind and nearly level with the top of the right ear; that was an old fracture—on inspecting the interior of the skull we found a bullet in the back part of the brain in the portion known as the cerebellum—that corresponded with the fracture—we could trace the course of the fracture to the place where we found the bullet—we also found a second bullet lying on the base of the skull on a part known as the sphenoid bone, and by tracing the direction of that bullet outwards we found another hole or fracture in the skull, just in front and nearly level with the top of the same ear, just above that prominence of bone which every one can feel, called the zeugmatic arch—one of those bullets had certainly entered the head during life; the one behind the ear—I was led to that conclusion by the extravasation of blood underneath the scalp for a considerable distance around the wound, having a diameter of at least two inches, and also slightly within the skull in the direction in which the bullet had gone—that led me to the conclusion that the bullet had entered the head during life, whilst the circulation was active—there was not so much appearance with regard to the second bullet—there was slight extravasation underneath the scalp—my inference from that would be that the first bullet had penetrated the brain during life, and the second when the first had so far produced its effect that life was fast ebbing—either of those shots was quite sufficient to account for death, not necessarily instantaneously—I have read of a remarkable case where a person might still live with a bullet in the brain—it would not necessarily destroy life instantaneously, but I should conclude that ultimately it would cause death if it lodged there a sufficient time for an abscess to be formed—a person might live till then—it would be enough to cause death, and might cause it instantaneously—we next turned our attention to the cut throat—it was a cut from right to left, just beyond the medial line on the right side of the neck, across the neck to a point about opposite the angle of the lower jaw on the left side—it had severed all the structures from the wind-pipe down to the vertebra—it extended about two inches upwards and backwards, below, and opposite the angle of the lower jaw; it must have severed the carotid artery; it was too dry to dissect those parts carefully—that cut must have been made either immediately before or immediately after death—I was led to that conclusion by the extravasation of blood in and about the part—the extravasation implies that the circulation is still going on, because had it been done at a
time very remote from death it could not have taken place, because it would have been congealed; the blood would not have been circulating—it is only while the blood is in a fluid state that extravasation of it can take place—that would be a wound quite sufficient to cause death in a few-seconds, or rather I ought to say in a minute or two—it was an old cut—I took off a pad from the back of the head and took it home and examined it, and in that I found a third bullet, sticking very closely to it; there was an immense quantity of hairpins in the pad—I also took home a piece of velvet ribbon—the hair pins were bent, broken, and rusty—there was an innumerable quantity of them all over the pad, enough to have arrested the passage of the bullet—the pad itself would help to do it, and of course the hair pins also—this (produced) is the pad and the ribbon—the velvet was in a very rotten state, more especially that part which had been saturated with blood—these (produced) are the three bullets—we gave them to Inspector Fox—I gave the one found in the pad, and Mr. Bond gave the others—this is the one I found in the pad; they are of a different shape—these are the two found in the head; the flattened one is the posterior one, that might be done from the way in which it entered the skull—they are both somewhat out of shape; but the other not so much—the one found in the pad is almost flattened, more so than either—Mr. Bond and I made a little examination of the remains to endeavour to ascertain whether the woman had borne a child, and I subsequently made a further examination myself—I did not minutely examine the hair I took some of it away with me, washed it and gave it to inspector Fox—the washing made it a little lighter, reasonably lighter—I noticed that one tooth was decayed down level with the gum, or jaw and only one, as far as I could see—it was the next behind the eye tooth on the right side—from its position I think it might have been visible when she laughed or smiled—there were some teeth missing—with the exception of the one tooth I should call it a good set of teeth; the remaining incisor tooth at the top indicated that it might have been slightly prominent—I could only see the remains of one ear—I could see that that had been pierced for an earring—I think I have now described the various matters to which my attention was directed on the 16th, when I was with Mr. Bond—I made several subsequent examinations for the purpose of ascertaining whether the woman had borne a child, the result of which gave me a very strong idea that the uterus was that of a person who had been a mother—I should speak nearly as positively now as I should if the body had not been in a state of decomposition—I give my opinion; I won't go further than that—my attention was not at first directed to any alleged scar on the leg; not until I heard it in the police-court from Mr. Lane; I can't recollect the date; it was when he was examined before the Magistrate—I was there—the body was in such a state from decomposition that it would have been perfectly impossible for any one to have found the scar unless diligent search was made for it—after Mr. Lane had given his evidence Mr. Bond and I made an examination for the purpose of ascertaining whether there was a scar or not; we made that examination in the presence of Mr. Aubyn, a surgeon, who was there on behalf of Henry Wainwright; we first examined the left leg, and then the right, and we found a scar on the right leg, about four inches below the middle of the knee—it was very much puckered; it was an elongated scar, about as big as a shilling the scar itself, but the puckering was much bigger, that is, the way the skin was drawn such a
scar could have resulted from some hot material; a red hot poker falling on the place would very possibly produce it—I afterwards heard Mr. Lane and Mrs. Taylor examined before the Coroner—I had not said anything about the scar I had discovered before they had given their evidence—I purposely said nothing about it—I think Mr. Lane, before the Magistrate, had described it as on the outside of the leg; he thought it was the right—I have seen a pair of boots produced by Inspector Fox—I have compared one with the corresponding foot, and in my opinion it would fit—I went to 215, Whitechapel Road—I saw some remains of stains on the flags; but I could not say what they were; they might have been produced by chopping up the body—I found a tooth in the parcel containing the remains, and others Mr. Bond had given him—both the upper incisors were missing from the mouth, I think the left eye tooth on the upper jaw, and I think both the lower incisors; but they were found and replaced—that left the only missing teeth the left lower incisor and the right upper incisor, they have never been found—I think four were found, two are missing—when the gums are in a dried state the teeth are very apt to fall out—it would net require any violence—those teeth had come out since death—upon a rough idea I should say the woman had been dead from nine to twelve months—chloride of lime would be apt to retard the progress of decomposition—I don't think it would affect the viscera—it would affect the external parts, and I don't say it might not to a certain extent affect the v is cream.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I am speaking roughly when I say death might have occurred from nine to twelve months—it is impossible to give the exact date—when I say extravasation, oozing perhaps would be the correct term—there may be extravasation of venous as well as arterial blood; venous blood will not coagulate in some subjects—I do not know of instances of blood extravagating and coagulating four days after death, or two days—I have not directed my studies to that subject very minutely—the head was in a similar condition to the rest of the body, it was not more decomposed than the rest; it was in an advanced stage of decomposition—I think more of the body was mummyfied than in a greasy state; adipocere means a greasy state—in the stage adipocere gases may be evolved; I have not gone into that; I have heard of it, so that the gases may actually be burnt; I am aware by my reading that that is scientifically true—I should not think that the stage is well defined between the period when gases are evolved and adipocere—I could not say when gases cease to be evolved from a dead body—I have never had such a case as this before; I have never had such an examination to make—I have never examined a dead body in that state of decomposition—I made extensive reports of my examinations, adding piece by piece as I went on—I think I had made about four exami-nations before the scar examination—I think Mr. Bond was present at one or two of those examinations—I did not see him cut out the scar from the leg; I did not see Mr. Aubyn cut out a small portion of the other leg, but I heard him say that he should—he called my attention to the idea that there might be a scar on the other leg, what he said might be a scar—I make no doubt that slight examinations and all, I have made twelve examinations, either of the remains or portions of them—they were very dirty and dark—a small portion of flesh was left on the right side of the face, but all the soft parts were decayed—the eyes were in a very shrunken condition and sunk to the buck of the sockets—it was quite impossible for any one to
recognise the features unless it was the cheek bones—I should have thought that chloride of lime would tend to bleach the parts, but have made no experiments to know—the scalp was not entire; a great deal of the back of it was there, but not all of it, especially where the wound was; it was drawn back—there was the most scalp where the wounds were, at the orifice of entrance; but perhaps I am not quite right in saying that at that spot there was more—the scalp at the two orifices was capable of being dissected surgically, more especially one wound, at the front orifice—the orifice behind the ear was an elongated fracture—the bone was not carried completely away, the back part of it was pressed inwards, but it was not gone; there were very, very slight fragments—the other was perforated and nearly round—some of the bone was carried away—the brain was in such a pulpy state that I did not like to remove it, and in following the course of the bullets I only followed the direction of the dura mater, the covering of the brain—I should be guided by a little mark on the skull internally, where the bullet seems to have struck and rebounded—it was by looking at the orifice and drawing lines to the other side, and by the manner in which it had entered the skull that I came to a conclusion—in gun-shot wounds death may arise from a shock to the system or from hemorrhage—I have not studied gun-shot wounds, but I can only imagine those to be the modes of death—I think it is possible that there are instances of a man living sir days with a bullet in the brain—it is quite possible for a person to cry out on receiving a bullet in the brain—I do not know that men have shot themselves through the brain, cried out, and purposely placed themselves in a studied attitude afterwards—if a person had delivered—two, or even three shots within three seconds I cannot pledge myself that death would necessarily result after the first shot—I cannot fix myself to these exceptional cases; I only give it as my opinion that the extravasation being less in one line than the other the lesser one was the more likely one than the more extensive one; I do not say "in one line" but round by the scalp—I cannot say so as a matter of fact, but what I contend is that if the first wound behind the ear had been inflicted shortly after death, or closely after death, I think it would have been perfectly impossible for the bullet to have got so far under the scalp as it evidently had done in this case—the diameter was about 2 inches extending inwards—the extravasation extended 2 inches on the surface to the depth of the 16th of an inch; the adjacent parts were lacerated—I could not point to the exact spot in the scalp where the bullet had got to the skull, because the scalp was retracted—I have formed a conclusion from some exterior appearances and the slight extravasation internally; very slight—I could not say whether the bullet in the head was the first, second, or third shot; it is impossible—the cut in the throat may have been done with an ordinary knife—I am not quite clear as to the extent of that cut into the vertebra¦—why I am inclined to the opinion that the body was that of a person who had borne a child, is because the measurements of the uterus were greater than those acknowledged to be the measurements of a virgin uterus—virgin uteruses of adult women are very much the same in measurement, also in weight and in general size, provided they are healthy—the external measurement of a virgin uterus, including the substance: the extreme length would be about 2 1/4 inches to 2 3/4 inches, and the breadth about an inch and a third, while this uterus that I examined was, as near as possible, 3 inches, and its breadth about 2 1/2 inches—another reason for my opinion is the thinness of the walls—I should say, taken
conjointly, the front wall and the back wall of a virgin uterus would measure about an inch, 1/2 an inch one side and 1/2 an inch the other—there is no cavity; the surfaces lie flat—after child-bearing the walls become thinner, and as near as I could say the measurement of the walls of this uterus were five-eigthths of an inch—I think it is not a fact that the walls get thicker after child-bearing, I certainly shall not admit it; I cannot explain why they should get thinner; I adhere to my opinion; perhaps it is not worth much—another ground for my opinion is, that I have compared this uterus with the several uteri in the museum of Guy's Hospital, both those of the virgin and those of persons who have borne children, and it is certainly inconsistent to think it is that of a virgin, because it is so unlike all what I see there of virgin uteri—another reason is, the condition of the walls of the abdomen—in the state of decomposition it was possible for me to form an inference—I do not give positive testimony to any of it—at the lower part of the abdomen I observed what appeared to be a scarred-like surface, a whitish colour, and lower down the decomposition had progressed very rapidly in between what appeared to be little cicatrices, little scars, and as the surface of the abdomen would be there a little irregular, uneven, I can quite understand that the decomposition would in between those scarred places have gone on more rapidly; that is the only inference—I gather from all this that after a woman had borne a child, of course the abdomen being very much stretched during pregnancy (especially the latter months of pregnancy), when the child is born, of course it leaves the abdomen in a flabby condition, and these scars are the result of that, the contraction of the abdomen to a certain extent—this appearance is just as consistent with a person who has suffered in their lifetime from fever or dropsy, but I take it in conjunction with what I have observed else where—if I had had the best opportunity of noticing what are called cicatricies, I should not have formed any different opinion—I met two or three gentlemen with the uteri at Guy's Hospital, once before I was cross-examined at the Southwark police-court—I did not find any hair on other parts of the body besides the head to recognise it—I have not made any experiments as to the effect of chloride of lime respecting its colour—I think it would be a natural inference to find a furrowed finger if a woman had worn a wedding ring for three or four years—I do not say that the hands in this case were unusually preserved; they were certainly not in such a state that you could trace the furrow of a wedding ring—I made a very careful examination for that purpose, but I could not see anything—it might possibly be traced on a fresh subject—the condition of the hand was similar to the rest in its greasy state—the boots were never put on the feet; I judge from the size of the feet, they measured as near as possible 8 1/2 inches from the very top of the great toe nail to the back of the heel; I cannot say. that the feet were very much smaller than I should expect to find in a person of 5 feet 1 inch in height, but they were not larger, there are plenty of women of 5 feet 1 inch with feet like that; I have measured the boots, they are as near as possible 9 inches long—I did not measure either hand—the uterus weighed as near as possible 12 drachms, and one source says that a virgin uterus weighs 8 drachms—Dr. Alfred Meadows is an authority who differs; he says in his book from 8 to 12 drachms—I mean the gentleman sitting there, he is an acknowledged authority and the only anthority who bears that out—I have referred to authorities during this examination—I took the measure went of the body from head to feet, independently of Mr. Bond, and as accnrately
as I could; I made it 5 feet—I do not say that on the supposition of death many months previously and decomposition at that stage having set in, the length would be rather in excess of that during life, but it might be—I can understand that the decayed tooth could be seen if she laughed very much, and in smiling it must have been seen—I do not know whether that is one of the teeth the least covered with enamel, or whether that tooth is the first to decay in fifty people out of a hundred—the two incisors did not project very much, but very slightly—I should not describe the whole of the upper set of teeth as projecting very much, I do not say that by any means; there was nothing extraordinary about the teeth, except that the central incisors were slightly prominent—I have been qualified five years this month.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. In my opinion, it is quite impossible for the deceased to have inflicted the wounds upon herself.
By THE COURT. If a bullet entered the brain its effect upon the sensibility of the person would depend upon its position—I cannot say whether a person would be in possession of their senses and faculties with such a bullet in the brain as to enable them to cut their own throat afterwards.
THOMAS BOND , F.R.C.S. I live at 50, Parliament Street, Westminster, and am assistant-surgeon to the Westminster Hospital, and lecturer on forensic medicine at the hospital—on the 16th September last I saw the remains of this body at the dead house—Mr. Larkin was present—the body was that of a female of short stature, about 5 feet in height, of slender make, limbs, and body; I thought she was from twenty to twenty-five years of age, and that the body had been dead many months; she might certainly have been dead as long as twelve months-—the hands were slender and covered with a greasy substance; the skin underneath was dry and shrunken; the feet were in the same condition—I think if there had been any deep furrow from wearing a wedding ring I should have found it, I looked to find it and did not notice one; I do not think I could have found a slight furrow—the the hand was a very slight one, the fingers were very thin—a wedding ring would obviously make a deeper furrow on a fat hand than on a thin one—I do not know whether the furrow would remain if the ring was discontinued for a time—the feet were slender and the skin dried, and in the same condition as the hands—I have seen these boots and am distinctly of opinion that they could have been worn by the deceased—I found four teeth absent on my first examination; those in the head were all sound, with the exception of one, that was the first bicuspid of the upper jaw, which was decayed almost to the bone—I have seen that tooth decayed in persons when they laughed—there was no means of telling whether the mouth was small, as the features were quite gone—in the upper jaw the left wisdom tooth was still uncut; I exposed it by cutting away the mucous membrane—I noticed that the one remaining upper incisor was prominent, when my attention had been called to it by Mr. Aubyn—the marks upon the body where it was cut appeared to be comparatively fresh, but the throat had been cut for a long time; it commenced at the thyroid cartilage, which is the top of the windpipe, the larynx in fact: it commenced at the left ear and reached as far as the angle of the lower jaw from right to left; the arteries and part of the windpipe were severed—I cannot say that that was done during life, but I believe it was, or very soon after death—I believe it was done at a long period anterior to my seeing it; it was a wound which would require considerable force, and it would undoubtedly occasion death—I examined the head and
hand—Mr. Larkin described the fracture behind the right car; he described it quite correctly—I agree with him that it was an old fracture—I found a bullet in the head—I was able to trace its course from the place where the fracture was behind the ear, and it lodged in the cerebellum—I can say that it must have entered the brain during life—I am led to that opinion by the blood, which was extravasated under the scalp and likewise under the dura mater, which is the lining of the skull—blood was extravasated under the scalp for a circumference of about three inches, and to the depth of about one-sixteenth of an inch into the substance of the scalp—I afterwards found a second bullet in the base of the skull lying on the spheroid bone—I traced the course of it outwards, and in doing so I found a fracture of the skull just at the front of the right ear—that was an old fracture—I formed the opinion that that bullet had entered during life or immediately after death—there was extravasation of blood under the scalp, but not to so great extent as where the first bullet had entered—I form the opinion that the posterior bullet entered first from the greater amount of extravasation, and what is more important, from the extravasation inside the skull—either of those bullets entering the skull and lodging there would in my judgment cause immediate death—it would be quite impossible after the bullet had entered her head for her to have cut her own throat, and if her throat was cut first it would be absolutely impossible for her to have fired the shots—I am inclined to the opinion that the uterus had been impregnated, and more than that, that the woman had borne children, but I believe it is quite impossible to give a positive opinion by the inspection of the uterus—when I examined the body on 16th September I found no scar; no scar could be seen in the state in which the legs then were to the eye of a person unskilled in such matters—I was at Southwark police-court when Mr. Lane, the father, was examined—I heard him make a statement in the witness-box, in consequence of which I made a special examination for the purpose of finding a scar—I examined the left leg first—it was necessary to scrape off the greasy matter first—I found no scar—I then scraped and examined the right leg, and found a scar on the outer side of the leg, about two inches below the head of the fibula—that would make it about three inches below the joint of the knee—it was a very distinct scar, about the size of a shilling—it was elongated from above downwards and slightly backwards, thick and fibrous—the skin was puckered a good deal in front of it, and was white at the back part of it; that describes it accurately—it was perfectly consistent with the appearance of a burn from a hot poker; that would be likely to have produced it—I cut the piece out—it is mounted—I have it in my pocket—it is mounted (producing it)—the cut which I made goes direct through it—I think the bullets are conical—I weighed them—the first weighed 66 grains; that is the one that entered by the back; the one partially flattened—the second weighed 78 grains, and the third, which Mr. Larkin found, weighed 82 grains—in coining in contact with the bone it would strip some of the lead—I know from experience that lead is lost when striking a bone—I saw the hair—I went to 215, Whitechapel Road; before I went there I noticed marks of chloride of lime and earth on the remains, and at 215 I found chloride of lime mixed with earth—there were lumps of it—I have been shown a quantity of it picked out by Inspector Fox—I took some of it away and examined it—it was chloride of lime—I did not find any hair in the grave; I saw some on the shovel—I took some of those and compared them with some of the
hair from the body with a microscope—they corresponded in colour and substance, and in the marking of the medullar substance—I was shown, some hair by Inspector Fox—I examined that in the same way with a microscope, and that also corresponded with the hair from the body—I saw the chopper at the station—it looked dirty, and it smelt very like the remains—I did not notice any trace of dog's or cat's mess on it—that chopper might have been used for roughly cutting up the body—I saw marks on the stone, and a piece of broken stone, and there was a faint outline of smears—the marks on the stone were undoubtedly recent bits chopped off the edge, and one piece chopped off one large corner.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. In the process of decomposition gases are evolved very soon after death; I believe to such an extent that flame can be kindled with them, sometimes in a much shorter period than a month or six weeks, sometimes in two or three days—I am of opinion that the remains were those of a woman who had borne a child, because the cavity of the uterus was large in proportion to the thinness of the walls; that was my reason then for that opinion; there were no indications to lead me to a contrary opinion—I have since had another reason for thinking she had had a child; I have had the uterus soaked and it has swelled to at least three times the size that it was when I first examined it, and now the walls have become very much thicker and the whole organ heavier and larger than the healthy uterus of a virgin; the inference I draw from that is that the uterus was then about its proper size; when I first examined it it was exceedingly shrunken and dry—I differ from Mr. Larkin that the bearing of children thins the walls I think it thickens them—the soaking process commenced after my first examination, after the first evidence at the police-court and after I was examined at the inquest, within—a day or two—Mr. Larkin soaked it; I did not—he told me it was soaked in spirit and water—I saw it in the spirit and water—I believe it has been kept there ever since—I did not measure the walls before the soaking process, they were very thin, a little thinner than thick brown paper—I have measured the whole uterus since the soaking process, not the thickness of the walls—my measurement of the whole uterus was just over 3 inches long, and the width about 2 1/2 inches, and the thickness over an inch—the wisdom "teeth sometimes come late in life, sometimes over thirty years of age—I think it is impossible to fix the age of the person whose remains these were within ten years—I don't know that the decayed tooth is the one with least enamel and most subject to decay—I had an impression the other way, that the wisdom teeth were the first to decay, the last to come, and the first to go; such has been the case with me—chloride of lime takes away some colours—I don't know that it will take away colour from hair—I would not say it would not, but I don't think it would—it would take it from unstable colours—it undoubtedly retards decomposition—I was present when Mr. Aubyn took a piece from the other leg; I looked at it as he held it; I saw him cut it out; I examined it as he cut it out and as he held it in his hand; I am quite prepared to say that it had not a scar—I measured the height very exactly several times; I did not make her quite five feet; I made her 4 feet 11 inches and five-eighths; I think it was not one-eighth—if you will allow me to refer to my notes I can tell you referring) I beg pardon, I was wrong, it is 4 feet 11 inches and one-eighth—I think the fact of death having occurred so long back as nine months would not lengthen the height; it would shorten it; I don't think to any great extent;
it might to the extent of an inch; I was of the same opinion at the police court—I made four examinations altogether—the cut in the throat was done with great force—I am most undoubtedly of opinion that it was done by some other hand than that of the individual whose remains I saw—I cannot pledge myself to what period of time after death that injury was inflicted.
By THE COURT. I say that the deceased could not have fired the two bullets into the brain and after that cut the throat, or vice versa, she could not have cut her own throat and then have fired the bullets into the brain—the force with which the cut was done is one reason why I say she could not have done it herself, and another reason is the direction it was not a direction in which a suicidal wound is caused; it has scarcely ever been found except in the case of a left-handed person; a person would not cut up in this way (describing); they would cut downwards with the right hand; the cut was carried deeply in under the jaw; it must have been commenced in the medial line; what I say is that, from the position of the cut, it could not have been done by the person herself unless she was left-handed; I have a very strong opinion that it could not have been inflicted recently, because of the retraction of the tissues and the great dryness of the tissues quite down to the bone.
By MR. BESLEY. I could not say positively at what date it was done—I say positively that to me it appeared not a recent cut; it was quite different from the other cuts I saw—as to a positive opinion, it is not for me to give it—when the muscles and ligaments are relaxed shortly after death, I believe persons measure more after death than in life—I have never actually found the measurement longer myself—I have not had occasion to do so; but I think it would be the reverse after the drying of the tissues—I think the inter-vertebral ligaments would shrink and the ligaments retract—I am not able to give a definite opinion as to that from experiments, but I can tell you as a fact that all these tissues do contract—I know as a fact that immediately after death they relax, and retract when dryness takes place—I have not had occasion to examine remains in such an advanced stage of decomposition for the purpose of measuring height—I have disected bodies much longer decomposed, but I did not know them in life or measure them in life.
Re-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I had some difficulty in putting the parts together so as to measure accurately—I was guided by the exact anatomical position of the parts—it is not on easy thing to get them exactly placed in position—I did it to the best of my ability—in the condition of the body that I examined the ligaments are contracted, and the inter-vertebral cartilages must have contracted from the extreme dryness, in fact 1 cut out the vertebra, so I know as a fact that they were contracted and dryed; I think it might make the difference of an inch—the wisdom teeth usually appear from 20 to 25, and even earlier sometimes—as to the cut in the throat, I cannot say whether it was inflicted during life, or immediately after death—there was nothing to lead me to tell which—there was nothing to lead me to say that it was not inflicted during life—there was blood around the cut, but I can't say that that blood came from the cut—it might have come from the gunshot wounds—if I had seen blood in the cut I should have said that it must have been done during life, or otherwise before the circulation had ceased—the cut extended just to the left oar, and the ear around that particular part was exceedingly much clotted
with blood directly at the end of the cut, but I cannot tell whether it came from the cut or the other wounds—the blood from the wounded head might have flowed over—if I could have traced the blood to the cut and nothing else, then I should have been certain that it must have been inflicted during life, or before the circulation bad ceased—I saw no blood in the cut; the cut commenced on the right hand side, in the cartilage, and it went deeper and deeper until it got very deep, quite under the angle of the lower jaw—in my opinion it was a cut upwards, because the only way to make it downwards would be quite to make a slanting cut under the jaw and then draw it down, which would be a very unlikely thing to do; in my opinion it went from the center of the throat up, under the left angle of the lower jaw, going deeper as it went on towards the left ear; the head was severed from the trunk lower down, underneath the cut; the cut had nothing to do with the severance from the trunk—there was greater extravasation below the scalp where the first bullet had entered, and below the dura mater than the other—I think the pistol-shot wound would produce death instantly—if it did, that would account for the less quantity of extravasation from the other wound.
By the COURT. The heart would probably stop within a minute when death was caused by the shot—I have said that it is difficult by the inspection of the uterus after death to form an opinion whether a woman has borne a child or not; but I should expect after child bearing to find the walls of the uterus thickened—that would give me some material upon which to form a judgment; thickened walls is compatible with child bearing, but it is also compatible with inflammation of the uterus or other diseases of the uterus, therefore it would not be a safe inference—I should expect to find general enlargement and thickening of the walls of the uterus—I think no reliable judgment is to be formed as to whether a woman has had more than one child—I think that is impossible, because I do not believe it makes the slightest difference to the uterus whether she has borne one child or two or three—since the parts have been soaked they have become much thicker than they were; but I do not say much thicker than in a virgin uterus—the walls of the uterus of a woman who has borne children are not much thicker than a virgin uterus; but they are thicker—in my judgment it was impossible to form a confident opinion as to whether this woman had had one child or more.
JAMES SQUIRES . I am a gun maker of Newcastle Road, Whitechapel—these three bullets which were shown to me by Inspector Fox are either the central fire, No. 320, or the rim fire, 297—they would fit either of the revolvers produced, and not a pin fire revolver—I have here a rim fire revolver and a central fire; the 297 would fit one and the 320 the other—all the bullets fit both pistols, they are all one sized bullets—I cannot tell you which they belong to, they might be fired from either; all the three bullets fit the same revolver—you could not fire these bullets from either revolver, because one is a central fire and the other a rim fire—I cannot tell to which they belong—they are conical shaped bullets—this little bullet of Mr. Pinnell's would not fit this pistol—Mr. Sawyer's bullet is the same size, it is called a pin fire; it does not compare with the three.
kept an account there—when a customer opens an account we get his signature in a book—this (produced) is the signature book—I saw this signature, "Thomas Wainwright," written here, and here is my own writing which enables me to say so—I do not remember the person who wrote this signature—I do not recognise him.
GEORGE WILLIAM ROGERS (re-examined). I cannot swear that this is Thomas Wainwright's signature in the signature book, but it is something after the character of it—I cannot say to the best of my belief that it is his, the character is different—I have looked from page 33 to the other corner and there are two handwritings—this "H. Wainwright and Co." is in Henry Wainwright's writing as the referee.
THOMAS BOND (re-examined). Since yesterday I have measured the neck of the uterus and find it to be an inch in thickness—I measured the funds and found it to be one-eighth of an inch in thickness—that is Mr. Larkin's measurement; the part he measured was very flaccid, and if not held up but pressed down by its own weight it was much more; and may I say as to the scar if it is taken out and put in water it will measure more, it is now contracted. (The witness was directed to do so.)
The following Witnesses were called for the Defence.
DR. ALFRED MEADOWS . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians, a lecturer on midwifery at St. Mary's Hospital, and physician to St. Mary's Hospital—I have made obstetrics a considerable subject of study—I was present in Court yesterday during the examination of Mr. Larkin and Mr. Bond—I examined the uterus at my house on the 3rd September in order to form some opinion whether that uterus was that of a person who had borne a child—the points are principally two to which I look for the purpose of forming that opinion to determine the question, and they are the size and as to the cavity of the walls, but more particularly the shape of the uterine walls; the walls in the present case were exceptionally thin, instead of being, as I should expect to find them, somewhat thicker than an unimpregnated uterus—at the time I saw the uterus it was in a liquid of some kind, I believe spirit and water—with regard to the second point, I found the walls of the uterus projected in a convex manner into the uterine cavity—it is not possible to express any distinct opinion as to whether the uterus had had been pregnant or not; my opinion, considering the points mentioned, is that the uterus had not been pregnant—it is not possible, with any accuracy, to form an opinion as to the age, owing to the decomposition and the long time the body is supposed to have been buried—chloride of lime is called a decolorer I have no experience as to its effect—I think it possibly might reduce black hair to a light shade—it would undoubtedly have a bleaching effect.
Cross-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I did not examine the body of this woman at all—I should probably endeavour to find out the age by the teeth; I am not aware that it could be found out in any other way; wisdom teeth make their appearance from twenty, perhaps a little before, to twenty-five or twenty-six; they vary a good deal—I am not sure that I should come to the conclusion that a woman was not over twenty-five if I saw her dead body and from whose jaw the wisdom tooth was just protruding, probably I might—I do not think it could be stated with certainty that the uterus of a woman recently dead had been impregnated—the walls were convex, which is certainly not due to the muscular degeneration—there was muscular degeneration very considerably; the whole mass was very flaccid,
but not at all difficult to measure; I measured it—the uterine cavity was 2 1/2 inches—I only speak of two measurements, the other was one inch and a third in depth.
He-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I measured each wall separately; the ante rior wall was a little under a quarter of an inch, and the posterior wall a little over a quarter of an inch—I should expect to find the uterus of a woman as large twelve months after death as just after—I have not had practical experience of the inspection of a uterus twelve months after death, but I have had experience of the examination of the uterus in bodies a few weeks after death, and I am able to express an opinion that the measurement would be the same after the lapse of twelve months—I think there is no shrinking of the uterus after twelve months, probably there may be of the whole body—I think as regards the uterus it would be infinitesmal; a virgin uterus is subject to considerable variations, even in what we call the normal state—if a body shrinks, the uterus might participate to the extent of sixteenth of an inch, which I think would be a fair proportion, because it has been found that after the womb has been developed it very seldom returns to its original shape again; it is exceptional if it does; I was not speaking of it as an invariable rule, but it is regarded as an indication of a nulliparous uterus—I do not know in what way the uterus had been treated when it was taken from the body.
FREDERICK GEORGE AUBIN . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and practice at 519, Commercial Road—I have been in the profession about eighteen years—I was desired to inspect the remains of the deceased woman by the solicitor for the prisoner on the 24th September, and attended with Mr. Bond on the next morning at 9.30 to do so at the mortuary at St. Saviour's Church—we examined the body three or four times; it was in a very advanced stage of decomposition—from examination, I should think the age was from twenty-five to thirty, not more, I judge by the sutures of the anterior part of the skull not being invisible; after thirty we expect to lose them, we cannot say to two or three years—I examined both the legs—the scar produced, is the one discovered on the right leg below the knee—I discovered also a scar on the left leg which I cut out (producing it)—I cannot say what it is the scar of, but from some injury, where it has been struck on this part, or it may have been from a burn—I think the skin has been destroyed—the scar is about the size of a shilling; I will swear positively that it is not the result of decomposition, but in my opinion it is a scar—I examined the mouth; there was one bicuspid tooth decayed down to the bone, and some others were missing—I would not give an opinion upon dental surgery, nor whether that tooth is one that decays sooner than the others—I examined the uterus with care, for the purpose of forming an opinion whether the woman bad been pregnant or not, and the signs to which I looked were the length and the size of the cavity, the general appearance of the womb, and the thickness of the walls—I also observed the shape with Dr. Meadows—I do not give a decided opinion as to the having been pregnant, but my opinion is that she was not pregnant, that the womb hid not been gravid, that she had not borne a child—I examined the hair; I did not detect any curl in it; I produce it—I took this off the back of the head myself—it was all hanging down when I saw it, and I took it off at the last examination from a piece of the scalp behind, which was loose—this other piece which has been produced was, I should say, taken from near where the hair pins have been; it is of a lighter colour and my probably
have been washed—mine is rather darker and has not been washed; that would make a difference—mine contains all the elements I took with it, the lime and the dirt—I cannot say whether, after being washed, this would be the natural colour; but it is more likely to be than mine, which may be affected by the chloride of lime—the effect of chloride of lime upon hair as a decolourer is not a thing likely to have been tried—I have made my measurements with great care and they are the same as Dr. Meadows arrived at—I measured the body with Mr. Bond; it measured exactly 4 feet 11 2/8 inches—I also examined the feet and hands; there was nothing remarkable in them, nothing unusually small, considering the size of the body.
Cross-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I come to the conclusion that the deceased must have been 25 or 30 because we generally find the anterior sutures of the skull disappear from 28 to 30, and they had not disappeared, only at the posterior part—the wisdom teeth appeared as I should have expected them to appear; but Mr. Bond told me that he had cut through the gum and made one appear, and I only saw it afterwards; but in such a disputed question I cannot give an opinion—if the tooth was just making its appearance she might be 25 or 26, it is sometimes earlier and sometimes later—wisdom teeth vary in the time they make their appearance, but they usually appear from 20 to 25 or 26—I take my opinion that this woman was at least 25 years of age from the condition of the skull, because the anterior sutures had not disappeared—after 25 you lose the posterior sutures, they had gone, but not the anterior ones the posterior I could not detect, but the anterior I did—there is always room for variation with age in all these cases, especially in the condition of a body like this—the sutures disappear altogether about 30; there is just a mark by which anatomists can detect them, but not ordinary persons.
THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE. Q. You said just now that the posterior sutures disappeared at 25 and the anterior at 30; do you abide by that? A. I made a mistake the posterior longest and the anterior shortest.
By THE ATTORNEY GENERAL. The anterior disappear first—that is so—the posterior sutures remain for a long time; the anterior disappear at an early age, they go earlier—after the age of 24 or 25 the anterior set go, and the posterior are left—the anterior sutures disappear at the age of 24 or 25.
Q. Had the anterior sutures disappeared? A. You have just asked me that question. Q. I ask you again; had the anterior sutures disappeared? A. No; the anterior had not disappeared. Q. Had the posterior sutures gone? A. No, they had not—I came to the conclusion that she was 25 because I take the sutures as my guide—I base my evidence on the sutures and on the teeth—I know nothing about the teeth except what I was informed by Mr. Bond—he said that he had cut down to one of the wisdom teeth—I understood him that one side of the tooth was through and the other not, and I started from that and said that the woman was 25 years of age—there is no particular rule for the wisdom teeth making their appearance, but I came to that conclusion because she had cut one—I did not hear that she had cut three and that this one was not cut; I only supposed she had one through—the others were through and she had one to come—I have no other reason to give you why I say that she was from 23 to 30—I only found the scar on the right leg on the last examination—I conducted that (examination with Mr. Larkin and Mr. Bond—we scraped both legs, and on the first examination we could not find the scar, but we
did on the second—we scraped the leg before we found it—we scraped the legs on the first examination but did not find a scar on either, but we did ultimately find one a little below the knee on the Tuesday—I have no doubt about it being a scar, and I think it might have been produced by a burn—we did not discover it on the first or the second examination, not till a fortnight afterwards, the day before the remains were buried—they had then been removed to a dark vault under the church, and we went down with a lighted candle—I did not notice whether we had one or two endless—I did not notice dark patches here and there, but there was one patch on the leg which struck me, though not till the day before the body was buried—Mr. Bond looked on the left leg and I looked on the right—I did not look at the left leg till the nextexamination, and then we had two examinations before we found either of the scars—we cut out the piece of flesh containing this scar—I will not swear what the scar was produced by—if the woman during life had received a blow on her leg she might have had a scar—a blow inflicted on the leg would produce such an appearance if it suppurated—I will not swear that this is not an appearance produced by decomposition—I examined the uterus with Dr. Meadows.
EDWARD MARTIN . I am a corn merchant, and in September, 1876, carried on business in the New Road, Whitechapel—in September, 1874, I had two vans, a large and a small one, and I frequently had them repaired at Mr. Wiseman's—I have ray books here, which are kept by myself and my clerk—I know nothing from memory, but I have a bill and receipt here for 3l. 10s. on account, for repairs to my vans on 4th September—the two transactions were somewhat mixed up together, for the small van and the large one, and there is a balance left—this is his name at the bottom; it is "Repairs to van 5l. 10s.," and you will see that it is agreed as 5l. 10s. in the corner—this is an August bill, and on 4th September I paid 3l. 10s.; that was for the little van—by my cash book I paid on September 4th 3l. 10s. on account, and on the 9th 3l. 15s., which was the balance on the two vans—this is the entry corresponding with the receipt—you will afterwards find on the credit side. I paid for some more work done.—on the first receipt I have produced of 4th September 3l. 10s. was paid on account—the small van being completed, Mr. Wiseman would bring the bill round—the 3l. 10s. paid by me to Mr. Wiseman on account on 4th September was on the small van—the repairs were 5l. 10s.—the 3l. 15s. was on the settled bill for the two—this was in part payment of 11. 5s. for the small one and on the large one—the small one was 5l. 15s. and the large one 3l. 10s., but I have no bill for the large one—we always pay cash when it is finished, immediately the job is done—Wiseman is told that if he does not take the money then he will not get it—those small accounts are always paid cash—these were both cash payments—I paid him 3l. 10s., but perhaps I had not seen the van then to see that he had done me justice—we call payment on Saturday, cash—this is my day-book by which I find that on 10th September the big van was actually in use—here is an entry of 116 bags of nice shoots fetched from the mill at Wapping at one load; the big van would be required for that, end on the same day the small van had to fetch one load of 58 bags, and another of 22 bags—on 11th September I find in the sold day-book an entry of three tons of rice from my premises to Ems' wharf, which the one horse van could not have carried at one load—that is, I should say, two miles from my place, and it would occupy half a day I—should say for the van to go there and back—I should like to look at Mr
Wiseman's workmen's book; it is a very singular thing, if you put the two payments together for the small one and the large one, whether they will come to the amount which he has charged—you see I am not speaking from memory, but from my own books—Mr. Pollard from the Treasury came and examined my books—Henry Wainright entered my service in May or June, 1875, and was in my employment as manager when he was taken in custody—he was very steady and well conducted—he was very regular every morning at 8 o'clock, and he commonly went about 8 p.m.—I recollect his being taken in custody on 11th September, 1875—he was at work on my premises in the usual way on 10th and 11th September—on Fridays he had to make the accounts out for wages, and on Saturday he had to pay them; I left it entirely to him; I had my own business to attend to—I have known his father thirty years, and himself about two years—I met him at a party at Tredegar Square—during all the time I have known him he has borne the character of a kind hearted humane man.
By MR. MOODY. I do not think I have seen Thomas above twice in my life—I have no recollection whether I saw him on Friday, 10th September.
Cross-examined by the ATTORNEY GENERAL. I know that the father was in a good position, I do not know that he left property—I live at Carlton Villa Upton—I take the 7.50 or 8.50 train at night—I have only two places of business, a rice and a corn establishment, they are opposite one another—I have the means of living even without business, and I only carried on the brushmaking establishment for Mr. Wainwright; it was more for him than for myself—I was not one of his creditors—I never had transactions with him before meeting him at this party—he was very much embarrassed so that I did my best to assist him—I paid him 3l. a week wages—he managed the brush business and the shipping house, and he gave orders for 100l. to 150l. at a time—he carried on the business as my manager at the upper part of 78, New Road, and 109 opposite—it was a profitable business to me—I received the profits and paid him 3l. a week—he was with me from May or June, to Saturday, 11th September—my view was to carry on the business until I got back my money and then he would have had the business—I had not lent him money, but the profits of the business would have paid me what I had laid out in the business, about 300l.—afterwards I would have handed it over, and Dr. Naggleton would have let him have the house again—my real business is the corn and rice business—the corn business is on the ground floor; there is a warehouse at the back, and the brush business has a side entrance to the two top floors, quite distinct—I close my business premises at 8.30—I left the brush making to Wainwright, who generally left about 8 o'clock, if I was not going by that train, but if I went at 7.50, I went before him—his train went at 8.10—I showed Mr. Pollard my books, and told him that the vans were paid for before—I have not said that my books would throw no light on the matter, I said that I would find the bills, and let Inspector Fox have them next morning—I offered every assistance to the police, and Inspector Fox will tell you so—this first bill, dated 29th August, 1874, is I should suppose, for repairs done to the small van—not a farthing was due from me to Wiseman on 29th September, 1874, I should have paid it if there had been—he would not have let it rest an hour, and I always pay a bill at once, and never have credit of anybody—this bill is 3l. 10s. and not 3l. 15s., because Mr. Wiseman agreed to take off 5s.—we enter the cash on the day we pay the
money, and always make the entries at the time—on 4th September I paid Wiseman 3l. 10s., leaving 2l. 10s. unpaid, probably the van had not been sent home then—if he had come for 3l. 10s. I should have given it to him—I think I have paid part before the work was delivered—I think you will find that the two amounts in the cash-book were sufficient to pay both these bills—the next payment was on the brush—my clerk looked nearly all night for the bill for the large van and could not find it, and I have tried to find it myself—I do not know whether I had a bill—this (produced) is the bill for the work done in June which was delivered on the same date as this one of 29th August—I did not produce these two bills before, because they were both shut in the books—all these things were paid for at the time, we never let a thing like this 8s. 6d. stand; it would not be entered—I do not say that we never enter such amounts, but in this cash-book it is very rare—5l. 10s. was the whole amount due from me on 4th September, and this 3l. 10s. on account was the whole amount I owed him at that time—that included everything up to that time, and the 1l. 15s. for repairs to the big van and the work done to the little van—we have thousands of papers in the course of a day, they are kept on a large file; we have searched three or four large files on several occasions to find the bill I paid Mr. Wiseman—we probably did have a bill for repairs of the large van—I do not usually hire vans when my own vans are being repaired, I do now, as we are busy—if my vans were being repaired I should make shift with a one-horse van till mine was repaired; he would not keep it more than a day or two—Mr. Wiseman has been told by me always to take his money as soon as he has done his work—I don't suppose I should pay him for it until I had seen what he had done to it—I probably paid him 3l. 10s. because 1 saw what he bad done to it, I only speak from my books; I have no memory of the transaction—the small van did go several times, it did two loads on 10th September, and the big one one load—the small one would hare to go, I suppose, 3 miles, it was generally used for all purposes, taking out corn and all small loads, but it would not carry 116 bags of rice at the same time—I had the little van oiled in September; it was generally paid for when done, it was only a shilling.
By MR. BESLEY. The 300l. was money used for carrying on the brush-making business; it was not money that went into Henry Wainwright's pocket it was capital.
THE REV. JOHN THOMAS , Independent Minister; WILLIAM THOMAS GOOD, of 213, Whitechapel Road; DONALD MONROE, of 138, Mile End Road; Joseph Myers Cole, of 64, Tredegar Square; EDWARD LACY, of 94, Whitechapel Road, Chemist; SAMUEL LUDBROOK, Brushmaker, of 7, Mile End Road; and WILLIAM VICTOR BARDON, of 57, Beaumont Square; gave HENRY WAINWRIGHT, a good character. Monday and Tuesday, November 29th and 30th, and Wednesday December 1st, 1875.
Witnesses for Thomas G. Wainwright.
ALEXANDER ARKELL . I am an ironmonger of 291, Oxford Street, close to Davies Street—I know Thomas Wainwright—he entered my service as shopman on March 30, 1874, and continued with me until the 10th October—I employ various countermen, and I have a sheet on which are entered each day the takings of each counterman—I have the sheet here—each counterman enters into a separate column his sales—during the time Thomas Wainwright was in my employment he was very regular, except
that he was late in the morning—he was absent four or five days, which by reference to my sheet I find to be May 11th; Monday, June 22nd; August 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 13th; and October 7th—August 3rd was the Bank Holiday; the 4th and 5th were holidays I gave—while he was away in August, I received a telegram from him from Ramsgate, dated August 3rd, asking me to let him stay another day—he was not late every morning, but usually on a Monday—he ought to have been at business at 8 o'clock a.m.—he left at 8 o'clock p.m., when my shop closed—we begin to take in goods from the door at 8 o'clock, and in about ten minutes the shop is closed, unless there are customers in the shop, when it might be a little longer—he generally got away at 8.10 or 8.15—during the time he was in my service he wore a full dark moustache, but no beard or whiskers—I am not a locksmith, but I deal in locks—this is about a 1s. padlock—they are made in large quantities, and it would be extraordinary to find a key that would not fit it—there is no doubt this key fits the lock best, but even that I should not call the proper one—I am not sure that it was not intended for the lock, but either of them will do equally well.
Cross-examined by THE ATTORNEY GENERAL. Both would do because both will open it—my shop is on the further side of Oxford Street—I don't know whether Baker Street or Portland Road Station of the Underground Railway is the nearest to my house—Thomas Wainwright was engaged as manager, but I used occasionally to send him out—I don't seek orders out of doors—he used to go out occasionally and collect debts if they were difficult to get hold of—I had four countermen at the time he was with me, including him—I believe the same countermen were with me from March till he left me, but I should not like to swear it without looking at the sheets—the sheets are placed on a desk, and it is the counterman's business to put the cash down in the column assigned to him—if Thomas Wainwright's writing is on the sheets I know that he was there—these are the sheets for the whole of September (produced)—"W" represents Wainwright, "Alf." represents Alfred, one of the other countermen, and George Lewis was another—on this sheet of September 1 both these columns are entered for the first counterman, the next column is the money received, shillings and pence—Thomas only sold five articles on September 1—I should infer from that that he was absent in the morning, because there is an entry here which I do not remember, "store edgings"—they were supplied to a publican opposite; the order he took himself, and I remember distinctly the money being received just before we closed in the evening—that would be from 6 o'clock to 8 o'clock—on 5th September Thomas appears to have sold only a few articles compared with the other countermen; but that was Saturday, and we then close at 5 o'clock—Alfred has sold a column full of articles that day and Wainwright only seven; so he must have been engaged in the window, or else he was out, and if he was dressing the window, which is a difficult task, he would be left entirely undisturbed, and would not have much to do at the counter; sometimes we have a general clear out, and it takes two or three hours to dress the window—we should be more likely to dress the window on a Saturday, because it is a slack day; or Wainwright might be out or he might come late—I never had his equal as a salesman—there is one counter, and it is—30 feet long—on 10th September Thomas is down thirteen times—his sales seem to have been equal to Alfred's, and I should say that he was there all day—it was a full day and possibly it might have been wet—September 11
was a worse day as far as the till was concerned—there are small matters which we do not pretend to take notice of, such as pence, and he would be doing his window when he had not customers to serve—he made ten sales on September 11, amounting to 46s. 11d.; more than double any other man's—on August 13 he was away altogether; but you will find he was there on the 14th—he was living somewhere at Fulham; but I do not know of my own knowledge—I discharged him for two reasons—he had been very irregular of a morning, and it came to my knowledge that he had deserted his wife—I never spoke to him about living at Parson's Green—I did not know it—I never spoke to him about Mrs. Raper—I do not know The Rosamonds at Parson's Green—he never told me that he lived there.
Re-examined. From my place to Baker Street station would take about twelve minutes, and from Baker Street at that time you could only get to Moorgate Street—if you wanted to go eastward you would then have to walk or take an omnibus—I paid Thomas two guineas a week and a commission, which amounted to about 50s. a week all but 2d.—he was the manager in my absence—I also employed him in attending to any business out of doors, and he had the management of the window and the general overlooking of the place when I was not there.
CHARLES GEORGE GRAULIER . I am a solicitor of the Supreme Court; formerly I was an attorney—my offices are 13, Railway Approach, London Bridge—Thomas Wainwright was a client of. mine—he came first to consult me in February, 1875, at which time he was about to open the Hen and Chickens—I was employed to draw up an agreement between him and Mr. Moore, but it was never completed—the lease was not executed in consequence of Mr. Moore not carrying out his part of the agreement—the partnership fell through—after the failure of the business at the Hen and Chickens I was consulted by Thomas with regard to the surrender of the premises—I corresponded on the subject with Mr. Stuckey, the solicitor for the lesser at Brighton—I had but one interview with him; that was about the 9th or 10th of August—I believe no rent had been paid for the Midsummer quarter, and Mr. Stuckey wrote to me and said that if he accepted the key the quarter's rent and the costs of the lease should be paid—I have experienced in such cases that by the time a second quarter's rent is due the difficulty disappears, when there is nothing to distrain—the earliest time at which I was spoken to about the surrender of the premises to Thomas Wainwright was the beginning of August, or it might have been the last few days of July—I met him in the street, and he spoke to me about it.
Cross-examined by THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I have known Thomas since the beginning of January, 1875—I had never seen him before that—I have no idea what his private residence was then—he had started in business then—the agents had given him possession—he had some goods in the shop—he told me he lived at The Rosamonds at Fulham—I do not think I wrote to him there, but he told me so that I might communicate with him on hearing from Mr. Stuckey in reference to the lease—the partnership with Mr. Moore went off at the beginning of June, when I was first made acquainted with it.
Re-examined. I wished to communicate with him to let him know about the lessors, and he told me to write to him at The Rosamonds at Fulham—
that was all he told me—beyond that I knew nothing of my own knowledge—I cannot tell whether he was only there on a visit.
HENRY WAINWRIGHT GUILTY — DEATH .
THOMAS G. WAINWRIGHT— GUILTY, as an accessory after the fact— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 22nd, 1875. Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE and MR. J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT and MR. T. J. GREENFIELD the Defence.
WILLIAM PERKS . I am salesman to Mr. Wells, of 35, Seething Lane—either at the end of June or the beginning of July I met the prisoner—I knew him before, but had had no transactions with him—he said that he was a buyer of tea at a certain price—I communicated with Mr. Wells, and subsequently some samples were sent to the prisoner—he asked for a sampling order—he afterwards said "I have sampled those teas they are very fair, and I will take 20 chests"—the price was 100l. 10s. 4d.—this invoice was sent to him—the terms were a two months' acceptance from 7th July—after I had got that I handed him these two warrants on the same day (produced) and also this delivery order for three chests of tea—that made twenty-one cases of tea altogether—he having bought twenty chests I required one chest to be returned, and he gave me an order for it—the delivery order for three chests was a sub-order upon this warrant for six—before the three chests could be delivered it was necessary to deposit this warrant (produced) at the wharf—this is the bill he gave me:—"London, 7 July, 1875. Two months after date pay to our order 100l. 10s. 4d. for goods removed. FOXTON, WELLS Co. TO JOHN WESTWOOD Co., 3, Mincing Lane. Accepted, due 10th September, 1875.—JOHN WESTWOOD"—if he had required those goods for delivery to a purchaser we should have given him a delivery order, and he could also have obtained the other chests and the other warrants without requiring fresh warrants to be made out—I met him frequently afterwards—I saw him, I think, on the 8th September, and in the meantime he had been made a bankrupt—I said "Our bill falls due on the 10th"—he said "It will be duly met. It will be provided for"—I communicated that to my principals, and when I saw the prisoner again I asked him to hand me back the warrants—he said that they were fast at the Bank—on 10th September I presented the acceptance at Martin's Bank, and it was returned marked "N. S."
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I had known the prisoner about twelve months before these transactions, carrying on business with Mr. Hobden, at 3, Mincing Lane, as commission agents—I was aware at the time of this interview in July that he and Mr. Hobden had separated—the bill was accepted in the name of "John Westwood Co."—that is the firm I knew him as carrying on—he did not complain that the samples I showed him at my premises were not the same character as those he had seen at the docks—I did not offer him further teas between this transaction and July 7—I saw him on very many other occasions between July 7 and 8,
and be asked me for samples; but I did not offer them to him—I may have given him some—I did not press these very teas upon him—I called on him perhaps half a dozen times—that may have been to ask for orders—when I met him on September 8th I knew that his petition had been filed—I do not know that at that time he was unaware of the position of Hebden Westwood—he did not tell me so, but I saw it in the paper—I think he said something about having ascertained what his position had been with reference to Mr. Hebden—after I saw the bankruptcy published I pressed him on my own responsibility to obtain a guarrantee from some friend to pay this money, and told him that if he did not do so it would be very awkward for him.
Re-examined. Mr. Wells gave me no authority to make any offer to him.
FREDERICK GEORGE BURTON WELLS . I am one of the firm of Foxton, Wells Co., tea dealers, of 35, Seething Lane—Perks is our traveller—about the end of June he communicated to us a proposition by the prisoner to purchase tea, and on 5th July the purchase was effected and we drew a bill on him at two months for the amount, which he accepted, and we authorised the delivery of the warrants to him and also the delivery order—the bill was dishonoured, and the prisoner became bankrupt in September—I applied at the Mansion House immediately, without making suggestions for a compromise—I did not instruct anyone to compromise with the prisoner.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. The trustee has obtained the order for this prosecution—I do not know the date of it—I saw Mr. Hebden at the Mansion House—I had never seen him before.
GEORGE RATCLIFF HEBDEN . On 1st September, 1873, I entered into partnership with the prisoner—he brought in no capital; I brought in 1,000l.—he had been in business twelve months I believe when I joined him—I continued trading with him up to April last, when, in consequence of an opinion I entertained, I had the accounts looked into by an accountant who communicated the result to me, and I got this balance-sheet on the 22nd June—on the same day or the day after, the prisoner asked me what the result was, and I told him there was a deficit of about 800l.—he shrugged his shoulders, but did not express any surprise—I took means to dissolve the partnership, and did not trade with him after that time except running off the old contracts.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. The actual gazetting out was on 14th August, and that related to May 1st, so that practically our partnership terminated on May 1st, and except as to running off the old accounts my connection with him ceased altogether.
CHARLES GROSJEAN L'ENFANT . I am a clerk in the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the proceedings in the bankruptcy of West-wood Hebden. (Mr. Straight objected that these proceedings were irrelevant, the firm of Westwood Hebden having ceased to exist on 1st May.) The adjudication is against both of them, John Westwood G. R. Hebden together—there is no separate adjudication by Westwood alone, trading under the name of Westwood Co.
JOHN BIDDULPH MARTIN . I am a banker of 68, Lombard Street—I have been acquainted with the defendant two years—he had an account at my bank in the name of "Westwood Hebden," but no separate account—on 18th April last he opened an account in the name of "John Westwood Co.," which he kept up down to the time of his bankruptcy—on 20th July he deposited these three warrants with others and this memorandum (produced)
for an advance of 2,000l.—his account had always been small, possibly under 100l.—the account of West wood Co. was on that day indebted to us 480l., and Westwood Hebden owed us 1,300l., so that the result was that he only obtained about 150l.—he was indebted to us in the rest of the amount, and we handed him over the balance.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. We always thought he was a respectable man—I think I saw him when he brought these warrants—there is nothing unusual in the deposit of warrants for advances.
HENRY BRETT . I am an accountant of 150, Leadenhall Street—my firm went through the accounts of Westwood Hebden—we had our instructions on 16th April and concluded on 9th June—we made a balance-sheet to 30th April—we got our instructions from Mr. Hebden's solicitor—I had a communication with Westwood—he met me at the office, and I told him that the firm was insolvent—he asked for a copy of the balance-sheet, but I would not supply it until my account was paid, because they were ascertained to be insolvent, and I declined to give credit.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. The balance-sheet was handed over to Mr. Mount, the solicitor, on 22nd June—the charges were then paid-West wood Hebden were commission agents and merchants; they made 95l. profit in twenty months' trading; there were large sales passing through their hands.
JOHN ROBINSON CLARK . I have gone through the accounts of Westwood Hebden, and of a person trading as J. Westwood Co.—I have two statements here, one for each estate to the date of filing the petition—Westwood Hebden's liabilities on 4th September amounted to 2,000l.—I had their books,—I have followed out Westwood's accounts after he separated from Hebden—the particulars are in the same books—there were very few transactions after the dissolution of partnership—there were no other books—these are the books (produced)—I do not know Westwood's writing.
G. R. HEBDEN (re-called). I made some entries in the books, but they were generally made by Westwood—nearly all of these entries subsequent to my ceasing to work with him on 30th April are in Westwood's writing, but there are are one or two of mine.
J. R. CLARK (continued). The state of affairs of J. Westwood was, liabilities 3,301l. 19s. 2d., assets 356l. 19s. 5d., a difference of 2,944l. at the date of filing the petition, but those liabilities included the liabilities of Westwood Hebden, which were 2,395l.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. J. Westwood Co. only had one single transaction; the only purchase after 5th July was these twenty cases of tea.
MR. STRAIGHT submitted that no offence had been committed under either the 14th or 15th Subsections of the 11th clause of the "Debtor's Act, 1869," and that the Count of the Indictment framed upon these subsections must fail. The goods the defendant was charged with obtaining under the false colour and pretence of carping on business, and with disposing of otherwise than in the ordinary way of his trade, within four months of the filing the petition, had been obtained and disposed of by him as J. Westwood Co., and not as Westwood Hebden, the firm that was gazetted. "Xonconstat" but that Westwood Co. not only had not ceased to trade, but that that firm could pay 20s. in the £. The essence of the offence under these two Subsections as to "obtaining" and "disposing" was, in relation to the particular business and
trading, afterwards bankrupt or liquidating, in reference to which the goods had been obtained.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE contended that the prisoner was not the less a bankrupt because he was jointly so with another. He had been adjudicated a bankrupt, and he had within four months previous thereto obtained personal credit, which would fully support the position required.
MR. GRAIN was heard on the same side.
THE COURT considered that the prisoner did not, in the particular firm in which he was bankrupt, either obtain or dispose of the goods on credit, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY. and a justification.
MR. GRAIN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MATILDA HARRIS BOHRBACH . I am the wife of Lewis Bohrbach, of 50, Old Chapter Street—on 1st. November about 7.45 p.m., I sold the prisoner a quarter of a pound of sausages, which came to 3 1/2 d.—he gave me a florin; I bit it, and found it was bad—he said that he got it at the Hibernian Stores, and asked for it back, but I refused, and made a signal to my husband, who was in the kitchen—he came, and the prisoner ran out of the shop—my husband followed and returned with him in about five minutes—I gave him in custody, with the florin.
FRITZ LEWIS BOHRBACH . I heard my wife knocking, came up, and saw the prisoner—as soon as he saw me he ran out—I followed him and caught him—he slipped away from me and ran away again—I followed him, calling "Stop thief"—I saw him knock a man down, and knock a policeman's helmet off at the corner of Soho Square—I caught him, and a policeman brought him back to the shop—I saw him throw something away when I caught him.
WILLIAM WILLIAMS (Policeman C 39). On 1st November I saw the last witness following the prisoner, who seized him and gave him into my charge—I went with him to the house, and Mrs. Bohrbach gave me this florin (produced)—I found 29 1/2 d. on him—he was discharged.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Your trousers were torn seven or eight inches in your endeavour to get your hand out of your pocket—you were handled properly—I did not see you knocked down—I had a difficulty in getting your hand out of your pocket.
LEWIS MITCHELET . I am a provision merchant, of 34, Greek Street, Soho—on the evening of 10th November I served the prisoner with some eggs, which came to 3 1/2 d.—he gave me a florin—I gave him the change, and then found it was bad, and told him so—he went out quickly, and I followed him, calling "Police"—I saw a constable stop him, and gave the florin to him.
Cross-examined. I could see you when I got to the shop door, and I saw you turn a corner—I was then 6 yards behind you—I did not see Davis—the policeman showed me two eggs—I did not ask him if he had the bag they had been contained in.
Re-examined. The prisoner showed me the two eggs in his hand, and I had previously sold two eggs to the prisoner.
CHARLES DAVIS . I am a printer, of 9, Carlisle Street, Soho—on 10th November, about 9.30, I heard a cry of "Stop thief," and saw the prisoner running from Greek Street along Church Street towards the Dials—I only lost sight of him while he turned the corner—a policeman stopped him—I first saw the prisoner in Greek Street.
Cross-examined. I was about 6 yards from you when I first saw you running—you passed me, and I saw you knock a policeman down in Crown Street.
RICHARD WOKELEY (Policeman ER 32). I was in Crown Street, and heard a cry of "Stop thief"—I saw the prisoner running, and stopped him—he threw something out of his right hand) which I picked up, and found it to be the remains of two eggs—the prosecutor came up and charged him with passing a bad florin, which he handed to me—I found on the prisoner 5s. 6d. in silver; there were two florins, a shilling, a sixpence, and 4 1/2 d. in bronze—I did not show the remains of the eggs to the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. Policeman 291 went with us to the station; he is not here—I did not show the eggs to the prosecutor, because I had enough to do to hold you.
Prisoner's Defence. I received the first florin at a public-house which I thought was called the Hibernian Stores, in change for a half crown—the man ran after me and tore my clothes, and I was taken to the station—I had nothing to throw away, and if I had I should have had no means of doing so—I am more likely to take a bad florin than a shopkeeper, because he has the means of detecting it, and I have not—the person who knocked the policeman down ought to have been given in custody instead of me—I admit giving Mrs. Bohrback the florin, but I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SIMS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .
8. LOUISA HANNAH HUDD (24), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a post letter containing 174 postage stamps, the property of Her Majesty's Post-master-General. She received a good character— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
9. CHARLES FREDERICK WILLIAM BAKER (19) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to stealing, whilst employed in the Post Office a post-letter containing a 10 franc piece and a 5 franc piece and other money and stamps, of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General. Five Years' Penal Servitude.
10. THOMAS WILSON ELSTOB (41) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to stealing, whilst employed in the Post Office, a post-letter containing 222 stamps, of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
11. ALFRED CHARLES HEDGCOCK (34) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to forging and uttering a request for the delivery of a watch with intent to defraud. He received a good character. Recommended to mercy by Prosecutor)— Three Months' Imprisonment. And
12. CHARLES CLARK (23), and THOMAS CLAYDON (32) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to stealing tobacco pouches and other articles of the Great Northern Railway Company, their masters— Five years' Penal Servi-tude each.
THIRD COURT.—Monday, November 22th, 1875.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. RADCLIFFE COOKE conducted the Prosecution; MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
CHARLES WILLIAMS . I am landlord of the Royal William public-house, Essex Road—from about 11 o'clock to 11.30 on the night of the 21st October the prisoner was at my house, and tendered a bad shilling in payment for some rum; I gave him 6d. change, and afterwards he had some more rum, for which he also tendered a bad shilling—while I went out of the bar to call the barman, who was asleep, prisoner went away—he tendered me a third shilling which I took to be bad and I did not give him the change; but about ten minutes afterwards he demanded the shilling or the change—I followed him into the street, and he was ultimately given into custody—I marked the two shillings and took them with me to the station.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether the prisoner had the third shilling, but I gave it to a customer to inspect and did not receive it back—prisoner struck me, and put the shilling into his month just as he did so—he did not test it and say it was good—I did say at the police court "The third shilling had been taken from my hand and the prisoner has put it into his mouth"—I marked a shilling which I thought was the third, but which I afterwards found was good—I heard the prisoner say "I did not know that they were bad, but if so I must have taken them on the racecourse."
Re-examined. I was paid in coppers when I served some other customers—I am quite sure I did not give the shilling back to the prisoner—these I identify as the ones I handed to the police-constable—the third shilling was taken from prisoner's pocket—the one I marked, thinking it was bad.
JAMES CRANSTONE (Policeman N 266). The last witness called me to take prisoner into custody for passing three bad shillings—I took the two bad shillings and the prisoner to the station—I found upon him four halfcrowns, two florins, two shillings, four sixpences, a threepenny piece, a halfsovereign, and 2s. 5d. in bronze.
Cross-examined. Prosecutor distinctly said to me he saw prisoner put the third shilling in his mouth—he picked out what he thought was the third shilling from the rest of prisoner's money.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM REYNOLDS . I am a carpenter and collect at evenings for a Life Insurance Company—I live at 37, Palace Road, Well Street, South Hackney—I was present on the night in question at the Royal William public-house when the prisoner was there—I heard him talking about horse racing, which attracted my attention, and shortly afterwards I heard the landlord say "This is a bad shilling"—the prisoner asked for his money back or his
change, and wanted to see the shilling; the landlord would not give it to him, and the prisoner said "I will let you see," and walked out.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was in the place when I went in with a friend, and stayed from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour—I did not see the prisoner pay, but heard him call for something—I did not see anyone in the bar besides the landlord.
Re-examined. I met the prisoner when he was out on bail, in the Hack ney Road, I asked him how he got on about the charge, and he said he would subpoena me—I told him if my friend Rogers would come up I would, and on the following night we went to Rogers, and I asked him to come forward.
JOSEPH ROGERS . I am a decorator in the City Road—I was in the Royal William with the last witness on the night in question, when there was a discussion about some bad money—I heard all that the last witness has stated.
Cross-examined. It was some few moments after the order was given that the landlord spoke to the prisoner about the bad shilling—I did not see any money given—from nine to a dozen people were in the bar—I never saw the prisoner before.
GUILTY — Nine Month's Imprisonment.
MR. RADCLIFFE COOKE conducted the Prosecution.
MARIA DALLIMORE . I am barmaid at the Adelphi Stores, Strand—at 11 o'clock on Thursday night the prisoner came in and paid me a bad shilling for some rum—I bent it—he wanted it back, I did not give it to him—I called the landlady to look at the shilling in his presence, and I gave it to the police constable, who took him in charge—after he paid the bad-shilling he tendered a good florin, and I gave him the change—the shilling was broken at the Bow Street police-court.
WALTER JOYCE . I am landlord of the Adelphi Stores—I was at Bow Street police-station on the night in question, when prisoner and witness Dallimore came, and was present when prisoner was searched—I saw a bad two shilling piece fall from some portion of his clothes, I marked it J. and this is the one (produced).
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Your sock was being pulled off at the time it fell—there might have been four persons in the charge room at the time.
DANIEL MARLOW (Police Constable E R 5) I searched the prisoner at Bow Street, and found upon him 3s. 6d. and 6 1/2 d. in bronze, good money—after taking off his coat and waistcoat, and when pulling off his left sock he said "There, will that do," and the two shilling piece fell on the ground—he said "I'm done, I will say no more"—I marked the two shilling piece, and the mark is still upon it.
RICHARD LANKASTER . I live at the King's Head, James Street, Covent Garden, I happened to be at the station when prisoner was searched, and I saw a bad two-shilling piece fall from his person when his left sock was taken off.
Prisoner's Statement. When I was at the prosecutor's house I did tender the shilling, which the barmaid told me was not good, and asked me if I had more money. I said "Yes," and handed her a florin, and she gave me
the change—at the police-station when I was searched and the counterfeit florin fell to the ground the sergeant said "I believe you dropped that" I said "How could I have done so"—there wore several people in the charge room, about a dozen—what they were there for I cannot tell, nor what right they had there, and it is very hard to charge me with the bad money in my possession.
Prisoner also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction for a similar offence— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. RADCLIFFE COOKE conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE SMITH . I keep the Calthorpe Arms, Gray's Inn Road—on 21st October the prisoner handed me a bad 1s., which I cut and gave back to him—he then paid me with a good 1s. and I gave him the change—some one followed him after he left my house.
WILLIAM MATTHEWSON . I am cousin to the last witness, "and was in his bar when prisoner passed the bad money—I followed him to the Union Tavern in King's Cross Road—he had joined a man on his way there—I spoke to a policeman, and also to the bar-man at the Union Tavern—one of the men passed a bad florin to the barmaid, and I then called in the policeman—the other man eventually got away, but I went to the police—station with the constable and prisoner—he was charged with passing bad money at the Calthorpe Arms and Union Tavern.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were sober when at the Calthorpe Arms, and appeared to be drunk after the 1s. had been detected—in the Union Tavern you stood on the left hand side of me and your companion next to me, in the middle—I did not see you pay—I heard the other man call for a cigar or cigars, and he gave a bad 2s. piece.
FANNY DEANE . I am barmaid at the Union public-house—the prisoner and another man came into the bar on the 21st October; one about half a minute before the other—they had some. drink, and the other man paid me with a bad 2s. piece, which the barman took out of my hand—the policeman was called in; there was a struggle and the other man got away—the policeman had the florin and took it to the station—the barmau picked up a 1s., which was also bad, after the struggle.
THOMAS HORNSHAW . I am barman at the Union—on the evening in question witness Matthewson came and made a communication to me—I saw the two men in another compartment, and the barmaid having received a 2s. piece from them, I took it out of her hand and found it to be bad—the policeman was called in, one man made his escape; there was a struggle and I afterwards picked off the floor a bad shilling—I had charge of the bad money, which I gave up at the station—I accompanied the prisoner there.
WILLIAM AMON (Policeman G 156). Matthewson made a communication to me on the evening in question—I was called into the Union Tavern—the two men were charged with uttering bad money at the Calthorpe Arms and Union Tavern—the prisoner pretended to be drunk and slipped off towards the door—I pulled him back, and held one man by each hand—the prisoner said he never had been to the Calthorpe Arms and did not know where it was—I searched him at the station and found three halfcrowns, a florin, a shilling, five sixpences, a threepenny piece, 2s. 5 1/2 d. in coppers, and a bad 1s.
Prisoner's Defence. I am a cabinet maker by trade, and when going home I had a drop more that I ought to have had. I met this other man, who asked me to lend him id. to get him a lodging; I refused, and to get out of his way went into the Calthorpe Anns. There I tendered a bad shilling, which was returned, and I put it into my pocket. On coming out this man again bothered me for 4d., and eventually I went into the Union Tavern, where I treated him. I was then taken by the policeman into sustody, and the same shilling was found in my possession.
GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. RADCLIFFE COOKE conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD LANCASTER . I keep the King's Head public-house in James Street, Covent Garden—about 9.30 on Saturday 23rd, October, Smith tendered to my barman a bad 1s. in payment for some stout—I said to the prisoner "Have you got any more like this?"—he said "What do you mean, is it bad?"—I said "You are old enough to know whether it is good or bad"—he took it back and gave a good 1s.—I followed him, and when he got to Russell street he joined two females, Adams, and one not in custody—the woman not in custody went into the Beaumont at the bottom of Wellington Street, while the other two waited outside—afterwards they all three walked along the Strand as far as the Adelphi Theatre, and all at once I missed Adams—T saw the other two waiting at the top of Savoy Street—Adams came out of the Savoy Palace public-house, joined the to he Adelphi Stores—I followed her in—she asked for some gin, and paid a had shilling to the barmaid for it—I examined the shilling, and gave it back to the barmaid—the prisoner left and joined the other two—I went to a constable and told him what I had seen, and the two prisoners were taken in charge—the other female got away—Smith wanted to know what he was charged for, and I said "I suppose you have not been trying to pass bad money"—he said "No"—I said "I suppose you have not been in James Street to-night, Covent Garden"—he said "I don't know James Street"—I went to the police-station.
WALTER JOYCE . I keep the Adelphi Stores—Mr. Lancaster made a sign to me when in my bar—I saw Adams, and marked the shilling W which she passed in payment for some gin—I gave it to the constable—this (produced) is the shilling.
JOSEPH PRICE (Policeman E 2S-1). With the assistance of another constable I took the two prisoners into custody—Mr. Joyce gave me the bad shilling which I produce—I searched the male prisoner and found upon him three sixpences, two shillings and 1 1/4 d. in bronze—Adams handed a puree to the other constable, which he gave to me.
CHARLES BOLLOCK . I am landlord of the Savoy Palace public-house—Adams came to my bar on the evening mentioned, and tendered a bad shilling in payment for some gin and lime juice—I broke it, and she handed me another bad one, which I bent; a third shilling she gave me was good, and I gave her the change, and said "I ought to give you in charge of a policeman"—she said "I wish you would," but seemed to be dreadfully disappointed at the money turning out bad.
CHARLES CURTIS (Policeman E 230). I assisted in taking the prisoners into custody—Smith said "You are going to take my wife too?"—I said "Yes"—Adams (in my charge) handed me this purse—there were three sixpences, and three pence, and two half-pennies in copper.
Cross-examined by SMITH. The other constable was close to me when you were taken in charge; I do not know how it is he did not hear you say "She is my wife;" at the station you denied all knowledge of her—this piece of paper (produced) I found in the purse, not in your possession; there was no pawn ticket in it.
Smith's Defence. I deny being in James' Street; I cannot deny speaking to this woman, and I was taken into custody with her. I deny ever saying she was my wife. I never saw the woman before in my life; her money was taken from my possession.
Adams's Defence. He is a complete stranger to me. I had been drinking all day with some men, and these men must have given the money to me.
SMITH also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction—Two Years' Imprisonment.
ADAMS— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 23rd, 1875.
MESSRS. METCALFE. Q.C., and SLADE conducted the Prosecution; and
MR. C. MATTHEWS the Defence.
FREDERICK WILLIAM MALLISON . I am the accountant of the Master of the Horse Department, Royal Mews, Buckingham Palace—On 14th October I had occasion to make a remittance to Mr. Moon at Windsor—I wrote a letter to him, in which I enclosed two 20l. Bank of England notes, put the whole in an envelope which I sealed with the official seal, and gave it to Hiscock, the messenger, marked it "Registered," and ordered him to register it—he brought me a receipt—there was no stamp edging on the envelope when I gave to him.
HENRY CHARLES HISCOCK . I am a messenger in the Master of the Horse Department, Royal Mews, and have been so over thirty years—on the 14th October I received a letter from the last witness to post—I had orders to register it and did so and gave him the receipt—I handed the letter in at the office and left it there—this (produced) is the envelope; there was no edging on it when I left it.
CHARLES BLOCKLEY . I am counter clerk at the South-West office—I received this letter from Hiscock at a little before 3 o'clock, and this is the receipt—it was sent in as a registered letter—it would go on that evening to Windsor by the Great Western Railway.
CATHERINE MARY SOHNELL . I run a clerk in the post-office at Windsor—on the morning of the 15th October I had charge of the registered letters there—I received this letter that day and gave it to Payne, a letter carrier, who drew my attention to it, and I made this memorandum on the envelope—I noticed the state it was in, but had not noticed it before.
JAMES PAYNE . I am a letter carrier attached to the Windsor post-office—on the morning of the 15th October I received this letter—I noticed the state it was in and took it back to Miss Schnell to have it identified—I afterwards delivered it to Mr. Moon—a communication was made to me there, and I gave information to the Post-Office authorities.
ROBERT MOON . I am superintendent of the Royal Mews, Windsor—on 15th October my servant brought me this envelope sealed—I opened it and found a letter in it stating that there were two 20l. notes in it, but the notes were not there—I told Payne, the letter carrier, and he took the envelope back.
THOMAS WILLIAM HURST . I keep the Lord Hill public-house, Waterloo Road—I have had the house about sixteen months, and have known the prisoner coming there regularly in the name of Sam Corkell—on one or two occasions I have kept money for him—on 16th October, about 9.30 p.m., he came and asked me to take care of two 20l. notes till Monday morning—I put them them in a small private box apart from my own money—he came on Tuesday, the 19th, and said that he was going to the Strand and wanted some woman, and would I change one of the notes—I gave him 2l., and he came again the nest morning and I gave him 6l. more and said "If you call again to-night, Sam, I will give you the remaining 12l., which will make 20l.—on the 23rd October I paid that note to Mr. Creasy in change for a cheque, and on 25th October I paid the other note to my father-in-law, Mr. Cornish—I am sure they were the same, I had no others—I saw nothing on the back of either of the notes—the prisoner did not write his name on the back of them.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner the whole time I have kept the house; he frequented the house nearly every day—he had trusted money to me on two previous occasions—this was Saturday night, and there were 100 or more people in the bar—the request was made to me across the counter before everybody—I know that he deals in jewellery at sales, at Debenham Storr's—he still came to the house after the payment of the money.
Re-examined. I have seen him show jewellery in the house to customers, watches, chains, earrings, and pins—I do not know where he lived, or of his having any place of business—I bought half a dozen pocket knives of him once; I believe he had them wrapped in a parcel—he did not go about as a hawker—he once left 5l. with me, and at another time a note or cheque.
ALICE HURST . I am the wife of the last witness—I know the prisoner as Sam Corkell—on Monday, 18th October, he came and asked for my husband, who was out—he called again in about a quarter of an hour and told me he had left money with my husband, and I gave him 20l. in large silver—he put one parcel in one pocket and one in the other—he said he did not mind large silver, as he was going to pay it away.
CHARLES CKEASY . I am a timber merchant, of 10, Aubyn Street, Waterloo Road—on 23rd October I received a 20l. note in exchange for a cheque from Mr. Hurst—I had a 37l. cheque, and he gave me a 20l. note and 17l. in gold—I sent it to the London and County Bank by my son on the 25th.
ARTHUR JOHN WATTS . I am cashier at the Lambeth Branch of the London and County Bank—Charles Creasy has an account there—on 25th October George Creasy paid in a 20l. note, which was put into a tin on the desk—I placed it before Mr. Brownlow, who would make an entry of it at night—it was pinned to the slip which Mr. Creasy paid in.
EDWARD BROUGH BROWNLOW . I am a clerk in the Borough Branch of the London and County Bank—on 25th October this slip and note was handed to me by the last witness—I made an entry in my book of the number of the note which corresponds with the note before me.
Cross-examined. It was put into a can by one of the cashiers, I do not know who; it was transferred from one box to another before it came to me.
Re-examined. The cashier pins it to the slip when the slip is presented, and I found it still pinned to the slip.
SIMON CORNISH . I keep the Pear Tree at Lower Marsh—Mr. Hurst is my son-in-law—on 25th October I received a 20l. note from him and took it to the bank the same day—I paid in 30l. in notes, which I entered on this slip—this is my writing—I gave it to my son to pay in to my account.
SIMON REEVES CORNISH . I am the son of the last witness—on 25th October I took a 20l. Bank of England note to the London and Westminster Bank for my father—I brought the book back signed by the clerk, with a counterfoil.
THOMAS EDWARD CARET . I am a cashier at, the Lambeth Branch of the London and Westminster Bank—my lot-book shows that 30l. in Bank of England notes was paid in, but it does not show the numbers—we do not pin the note to the slip, but to a slip with Mr. Cornish's name on it and pass it on for an entry tobe made by a clerk, we do not return the slip to the customer—I signed the counterfoil—I pass on a first slip, which I make, pinned to the notes; that would go into the hands of Mr. Weale.
Cross-examined. I do not keep the lot-book—the entries in the other-book arc in my writing—Mr. Cornish paid in a lump sum of 30l.—I have the numbers of the notes in another book kept by somebody else.
CHARLES JOHN WEALE . I am a clerk in the Lambeth Branch of the London and Westminster Bank—I received this note pinned to a piece of paper with the name written on—I entered the number of the note, it was 54,900, March 19—that corresponds with this note.
Cross-examined. The slip I receive is destroyed—this slip is in the last witness' writing—the notes have been entered to Mr. Cornish, a 20l. note and two 5l. notes.
WILLIAM SMEE . On 3rd November I was a constable in the Post-Office, and I and Sergeant Chamberlain saw the prisoner in Walworth Road—I said "Is your name Kauffman?"—he said "What!"—I repeated the question—he said "Yes; but what Kauffman do you mean?"—I said "Sam Kauffman!"—he said "Oh, no"—I said "Are you the Mr. Kauffman that lives in the Waterloo Road?"—he said "Yes, that is my shop"—he shortly afterwards entered an omnibus going towards Camberwell—about 12.45 the same day I went with Chamberlain and Mr. Hurst to the Hero of Waterloo public-house, Waterloo Road, where I saw
the prisoner—Mr. Hurst said "Sam, these two gentlemen have called on me about those two 20l. Bank of England notes you left with me; they are stopped"—he said "Well, what of that? I know nothing about them; I took them in my business"—I called him on one side and said "I am a police-constable from the Post-Office; about a fortnight ago you left two 20l. notes with Mr. Hurst; from whom did you receive them?"—he said "I do not know; I received them in my business"—I said "Well, you do not receive 40l. every day, and it is not so long age; I should think you might say from whom you received them"—he said u How can I say from whom I received them; I receive hundreds of notes, as my book will show"—I said "As you do not choose to give me any information about them, you will have to go with me to the City"—he said "Very well"—we all four went in a cab to the City, and on the road I said "Sam, how long do you think you had those notes in your possession before you left them with Mr. Hurst 1"—he considered for a moment and then said "Well, I don't know; I had them a fortnight; it may be three weeks or a month; I can't say"—when at the Post-Office, at the prisoner's request, I showed him one of the notes"—he said "Where is my name on it?—he was asked if he wrote his name on it, and he said "Yes, on both"—he was asked when and where he wrote it, and he said that he did not know—he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined. We first saw him at 10.30 a.m.—we did not tell him then that we were constables or detectives—we took him to the solicitor's office at the Post-Office, St. Martin's-le-Grand, and he was given in custody there—if questions are put to persons there they are cautioned—I only put one question to him in the cab—I omitted to say before the Magistrate that I said, "You do not receive 40l. every day," but I spoke of it directly afterwards to the solicitor to the Post-Office—I found these invoices on him (produced).
Re-examined. I took my instructions from the Post-Office before I took him in custody.
WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Detective L). I was with Seem on 3rd November and met the prisoner in Walworth Road—Seem called him on one side and asked him if. his name was Kauffman—he said "What Kauffman do you mean?"—he said "Sam"—the prisoner said "No"—Seem said "Have you a shop in the Waterloo Road?—he said "That is my shop in the Waterloo Road"—on the Same day at 12.45 I went to the Hero of Waterloo and saw the prisoner there—Mr. Hurst said to him "Sam, here are two police-officers come about those two notes you left with me"—Seem said "I came to see you about those two notes you left with Mr. Hurst," and asked him where he got them—he said "How can I tell; I take hundreds of notes, as my books will show"—he said "If you can't give me any particulars you had better come with me to the Post-Office"—we all went there in a cab, and Seem said "How long did you have those notes you left with Mr. Hurst"—he said "I had them a fortnight, and it might be a three weeks or a month; I cannot tell without my book"—at the Post-Office he wished to see one of the notes—he was shown one, and he said "I wrote my name on the back of the notes, and I can't see my name here"—he produced this small pocket-book, but there were no entries in it—he has never produced a book showing entries of notes—we asked him where we could find his books—he made no reply—we searched his house, 26, Wincott Street, and in a room shown us by the young woman he was
living with and found 105 duplicates, several empty jewel cases, and five rings—I have known the prisoner three or four years, but never knew him keep a shop or carry on any business—I have seen him at Debenham Storr's.
Cross-examined. I believe he is a foreigner—he can speak English pretty well—I did not ask him if he was the Mr. Kauffmann living in the Walworth Road; I said Waterloo Road—the intimation that we were constables came from Mr. Hurst—I think Same said "You did not take two 20l. notes every day"—I have not said anything about that to-day, and I was asked about it before the Magistrate.
ABRAHAM KAUFFMAN . I am a watchmaker of 125, Waterloo Road—the prisoner has no connection with me or my business—I have been there fourteen or fifteen years—no other person of that name has a shop in the Waterloo Road.
MARGARET FOLEY . I am the wife of James Foley, of 26, Wincott Street—on the 1st November the prisoner and a woman took possession of our basement two breakfast rooms, and on the following Wednesday Seem and Chamberlain came and went into these rooms while Mrs. Kauffman was there—she left on the nest day—she came again on the Friday night and took away their things—he had no shop there; it is a private house.
Cross-examined. He was only there from the 1st to the 3rd—he said that he came from 31, Brook Street; that is a private house.
GUILTY — Six Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. METCALFE. Q.C., and MR. SLADE conducted the Prosecuion; and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
CHARLES HODDY . I am assistant overseer at the North-Western District post-office in Eversholt Street, Camden Town—the prisoner was also an assistant overseer there—we were both on duty on the evening of 3rd November—about 6.15 or 6.18, while I was at the sorting table, the prisoner came up to the table on the opposite side—I noticed something at the bottom of the right leg of his trousers—it was the white (edge of a letter; I was about to speak to him about it, but he walked away too quickly, and as he turned round it fell lower down and then on to the floor he then walked round on my side with some letters in his arms, and put them down on the South-Western Railway table—I picked up the letter and handed it over to the inspector—about five or ten minutes afterwards the prisoner went out into the lavatory, where the closets are—he was there about two minutes, and then returned to the sorting table and examined some letters as though looking for something; he then walked up to the letter carriers' seat, where probably the letter would have" been if it had been sorted in its proper place; but all the letters had been cleared from there he then walked away to his general duty—the letter 1 picked up was addressed to Mr. Wootton; it had been folded and the corners had been a little squeezed, as though squeezed in the hand—it was stamped for delivery that hour; it would come to the table where he was—he would have access to any letters.
Cross-examined. So should I—we occupied similar positions; he—had been raised from a letter carrier and sorter during ten years to that
position—the room in which this letter was discovered is about three times the size of this Court; sixty or seventy men were employed in it carrying letters to and fro—on this night there had been a failure with one of the railway division of letters—they had been forgotten—I am not aware that the prisoner called Mr. Whitbread's attention to that; I did not—the boy who ought to have brought the letters was off sick, and his duty was forgotten at the moment—those letters had been sorted and should have gone out at 6.16—there was no confusion at the time I picked the letter up—the duty would be over then—I did not see any letter lying on the floor—the prisoner was carrying some letters in his arms when I picked this up—it was crumpled; it had not been trodden on; it was clean—when I first saw it projecting from his trousers I thought it was his pocket handkerchief—I did not see that it was a letter till I picked it up—I should have spoken to him at first if he had not walked away so quickly—I did not speak to him after—I don't think I should have been right in doing so—he went off duty 8.10 that night and came on again at 4 a.m.
Re-examined. At the time he first came up to the table he had no letters in his hand but in stooping forward to take up a bundle of letters this letter dropped—there was nobody near at the time—no one else could have dropped it.
WALTER SMART . I am an inspector of letter carriers at the North-Western District—I was on duty there on the evening of 3rd November—at about 6.20 this letter was brought to me folded as it is now—I kept it in my possession till duty was over, 8 o'clock, when I went with Hoddy to the postmaster's private residence—it bears the stamp of the office.
HENRY RUMBOLD . I am a police officer attached to the post-office—on 4th November about 2.30—I went to the north-western office and saw the prisoner in the post master's room—I showed him this letter addressed to Mr. Wootton and said "This letter was seen last evening to drop from your trousers leg on to your boot and then on to the floor by one of the officers"—he made no reply—I said "How do you account for that?"—he replied "I deny it; I know nothing about it"—I searched him and found a hole in the bottom of his right hand trousers pocket 4 inches long, large enough for the letter to go through, if doubled up.
Cross-examined. There was no hole in his left pocket—I searched him and I searched his house—I found nothing at all to compromise him.
ALICE WOOTTON . On 3rd November I saw my sister Annie write a letter and put in it a 3d. or Ad. piece and an envelope directed to herself—this is the letter; she addressed it "Mr. Wootton, 5, Clifford Street, Marylebone Road"—I posted it in Upper Gloucester Street—it was not bent then.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT
LCCILLA WEBB . I am barmaid at the Crown and Cushion in London Wall—on 23rd October, about 10.30 a.m. I was serving in the bar; the two prisoners came in—Lee asked for two of gin cold and a glass of mild and bitter, and he tendered a sovereign in payment—I went into the bar parlour to get change, and while doing so Robinson said "I have change"—I brought the sovereign back to Lee, and waited for Robinson to pay me—he had his hands in his pockets—Lee then gave me a coin, and I gave him. 10s. 6d. change—there was 1 1/2 d. more to give them—I kept that in my hand, but they did not wait to receive it.
Cross-examined. I had given Lee back the sovereign—I saw that it was a sovereign—I got the change off a table where we used to keep the silver—I had hardly got inside the bar-parlour when Robinson called out and I went back and handed the sovereign to Lee; hardly a minute elapsed between my giving the sovereign to him and his handing something back to me over the counter—I had never seen him before—I next saw him at the Old Bailey—I had to go to identify them there—they were in a yard marching round with others, and I picked them out at once.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner Robinson. When Lee gave me the second coin I put it in a glass on the mantelpiece—there was more gold there, but no shilling—I went and looked directly you had gone—I thought from your manner there was something wrong—my master called my attention to it, and said there was a shilling in the glass; it was what Lee gave me.
Re-examined. I have left my situation through this; they deducted the 19s. 6d.—I shall always remember these men.
EMILY GUNNELL . I am barmaid at the Castle in London Wall—the two prisoners came to the bar on the 25th October—they handed me a sovereign in payment for what they had, but I afterwards found they had given me a shilling, for which I gave them change—Mr. Born was sitting in the bar; he went out after them.
ELLEN FORD . My father keeps the Blue Anchor in Coleman Street—the prisoners came there on the 25th October, and Mr. Born came in soon after them—Lee called for some drink, and tendered me a shilling; Robinson called me back, saying he would pay for it, but Lee put a coin into my hand saying "Take it out of the sovereign"—when I got to the other bar I found it was a shilling—Mr. Born said in their presence "I have seen them in another house."
HEART CHRISTMAS BORN . I am an advertising agent—I was at the Castle on the 25th October, and saw the two prisoners come in—they attempted to pass a shilling for a sovereign—I followed them into the Blue Anchor, where they again tried—I called to the barmaid, and said "You have not got a sovereign but a shilling"—the landlord came round, and they were given into custody—I saw Robinson give something to a third man, who made his escape quickly.
Cross-examined by Robinson. No one stopped the man—I cannot say if he had a parcel in his hand.
Gviliy— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. CANDY conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE GOODE . I am a clerk in an insurance company, and live in Boy son Road, Camberwell—I was at Ludgate Hill station on Saturday afternoon, the 30th October—the station was crowded; I made an attempt to get into the train, and saw my chain hanging down—I exclaimed "My watch is gone"—the prisoner ran away and I followed him immediately—no one else was running at the time; I saw him in custody of one of the Company's servants.
Cross-examined by Prisoner. You were close to me on the left side—you ran towards the gate, not straight, but between the pillars—at the police-station I said I could not swear that you were the man—I cried out "Stop him"—the station-master brought another gentleman to the police-station to identify you—this is my watch—it was produced to me by the porter on the stairs.
JAMES OATES (Cab Inspector, Ludgate Hill Railway Station). I was on duty on the day in question—heard the cry of stop "This man," which I did—he was running as fast as he could, coming down the staircase—he said "It is not me, it is that man"—there was no other man—he was given into custody by the prosecutor for stealing the watch—I had seen the prisoner before.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was in the booking office at the bottom of the platform when I heard the cry.
JOHN FREEMAN (City Policeman 473). I took the prisoner into custody at the Ludgate Hill station—I afterwards searched him and found a first-class ticket to Walworth Road, and a pin in his scarf—no money—he refused-his address.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said you had been a seafaring man—a steward.
GEORGE BRAT EDMUNDS . I am a ticket collector—the prisoner passed me and ran down stairs without showing a ticket—I heard the cry "Stop thief," and jumped the first flight of stairs after him—I saw him in custody when I got to the bottom—I was on duty at the time at the barrier.
Prisoner's Defence. On Saturday I left Thames Street to meet a young woman at Ludgate Hill station. I went upstairs and mixed with the crowd to try and find her, but could not. I looked across to the other platform where a train was coming in, and proceeded downstairs after showing my ticket, (which I had taken to the Elephant and Castle). I heard the cry "Stop that man," and I was stopped.
GUILTY **— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, November 23rd, 1875.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. STRAIGHT and MR. RADCLIFFE COOK conducted the Prosecution; and
MR. A. B. KELLY the Defence.
DANIEL DAVEY (Police Inspector). In consequence of information received from Paris, I obtained a warrant to search the house, 11, Ashley Road, Tottenham—accompanied by Sergeant Greenham I proceeded to the stable adjoining the house, where I found what appeared to be a carpenters bench or work table—the stable did not present the appearance of being used for ordinary purposes—upon removing the cloth from the table I found underneath a wooden case, which turned out to be a press machine, weighing about 16 cwt. to a ton—I found a turner's lathe, this crucible (prodiked), a lot of tools, files, shears, gauge, spanner, pincers, and some metal—in the coach house I found a large crucible, which from appearance bad been recently used—from the coach house I went upstairs into the house, and found these two die dishes—in another room I found some metal, a tin of potash, tin of charcoal, some quicksilver, and a small phial with some fluid in it.
Cross-examined. There was no attempt at resistance on the part of the prisoner when I entered the stable.
GEORGE GREENHAM (Detective Sergeant). About the second week in October I received certain communications from the French police authorities, in consequence of which I, in company with Davey, went to the house of the prisoner—I talked with him in the back parlour while Davey made the search—I told prisoner he must consider himself in custody—he replied that any one might possess the machines he had, which were for the manufacture of Oriental necklaces—I searched him and found a pocket-book and some platinum clippings—he begged hard for the pocket-book to be resumed to him, and asked if he were imprisoned what would become of his wife and two children; he referred to her afterwards as his companion; he also inquired whether she had been arrested in London, or New Haven, or Paris, stating he had sent her to the latter place for some articles for the manufacture of Oriental necklaces and the Queen was so much liked all over the world that. her profile stamped upon them would be the best—I took him to the police-station, where he gave the name of Raymond Joseph Laving—I found in the pocket-book amongst others a letter dated "London, October 6th, 1875." Cross-examined. I did not very well know that he had not a wife, nor of her arrest in Paris—I knew of her arrest when I made the search—I did not know he was a widower—I made no demand for the pocket-book, I searched him and took it—some of the letters were from his daughter, which I gave him back—I believe she is in a situation as governess.
MARCELA METIER (interpreted). I am brigadier inspector at Paris—I well know Foconee, the engraver—some time last September I got instructions from my chief to watch Foconee's house—I did watch, and saw a woman named Valestoe go in there—on the 6th October I saw her go into 5, Rue des Been Finance; Madame de Chateau View lived there—she walked up and down as if waiting for some one, then Mrs. Foconee came and handed her a parcel—she came out, and I followed her to the railway station—she claimed this basket (produced) she had deposited there—she was arrested and searched at once; upon her I found two dies, nine or ten francs, one 1s. piece wrapped up in paper, and these articles (produced) in the bag—the basket was searched the next day before the Magistrate; in it was a galvanic battery and this metal plate (produced), a piece of platinum, a bottle of potash, and other articles.
Cross-examined. She was interrogated as to how she become possessed, of these things, and replied that Mr. Lavigne sent her to Paris to fetch them—
she said also that Lavigne did not want to go himself for fear of being taken into custody, and sent her, knowing that people did not pay so much attention to women—she said that Lavigne had told her that these articles were to make necklaces from, but at the same time she did not believe if that was the case he would have made such, precautions—nothing was said about contraband.
JULES JEAN FOCONEE (interpreted). I am an engraver on steel, living at 2, Eye Anuaire, Paris—I know the prisoner—I first saw him at the commencement of August—he gave me instructions to reproduce exactly the two sides of this coin (1s. produced), and stated he wanted them for Oriental necklaces—I have received letters from him and on the 30th August he called again bringing two pieces of steel—he, in referring to the 1s., said the work must be perfect, and it would only be the commencement of further orders—he paid me 250 francs in advance, for which I gave a receipt and told him the work would be finished exactly on the day named—his letters were headed High Holborn, and he left the name of Lavigne—the next day I gave information to the police, because we are not allowed to do any work of this kind without informing them—I finished the work, the two dies, two puncheons and collar—I wrote to him this letter (produced), (dated 25th September and found in prisoner's possession by Greenham)—about the 4th or 5th October a woman came to my premises from Lavigne, produced my receipt, which I tore up, and gave another for the full amount—she gave the address, 5, Hue des Bien Finance, where I sent my wife with the collar to deliver.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has written to the effect that these coins were for necklaces—I gave information to the police according to the French law, failing this we are liable to penal servitude and other punishments—I took the order to complete in a month, because prisoner said it was for Oriental necklaces—he did tell me not to make the milling.
ROBERT ANDERSON HILL . I am superintendent of the Operative Department of the Royal Mint, and am well acquainted with the manufacture of coin—I have seen the articles referred to in the evidence, and state that hey arc practicable for the purpose of making false coins—the milling could be done after the coin had been struck.
Cross-examined. I should say that the machinery was too heavy for the making of necklaces—the coin for this is thin—if a metal was required as thick as a shilling it would not be—the milling might be done with a file, but clumsily—the potash is simply used for cleaning, it had no special reference to coinage—all the fluids in the shape of material might be applicable to other purposes.
JOSEPH BALE BARNARD . I live at 315, Old Street, and am a woollen and damask merchant—the house at Tottenham is leased to me for three years—I let it about four months ago to a lady, who introduced the prisoner as her husband.
Cross-examined. It was about a fortnight after the lady took the house the prisoner came down.
GUILTY — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. RADCLIFFE COOK conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HORACE AVORY appeared for Rayner.
ALFRED BUNYAN . I live at the George Tavern, Broad way, Hammersmith—on the 20th October, between 11 and 12 p.m., the prisoner Brown tendered mo a bad florin in payment for some stout; I broke it, gave one piece to Mrs. Ringwood, the landlady, who afterwards gave it to the constable, and the other piece was given to the prisoner.
THOMAS WALLIS . I am potman at the George Tavern—I saw Rayner with Brown when she passed the bad florin, he came in and lit his pipe—I spoke to a policeman, watched Rayner go into the Clarendon, and call for ludf-aud-half for which he threw down a shilling—I had previously comunicated to Mrs. Allcock that I was watching him—I saw him give a wink and nod to prisoner Brown at the George.
Cross-examined. Rayner came in about a minute after Brown—I do not know what was done with the shilling that Rayner threw upon the counter at the Clarendon—there were two or three people there at the time.
ALFRED MESSER . I am potman at the Clarendon—the last witness made a communication to me—I saw Rayner in the bar—afterwards I fetched him in again from outside where he had been standing—I spoke to Mrs. Allcock who looked in her till and found a bad shilling—Rayner said he was not aware that ho had passed it—it was given to him back—the Clarendon is within two doors of the railway station.
Cross-examined. I saw Mrs. Allcock take the shilling out of the till—there was some more money in the till, and missus said she was not sure—it was not a minute after he had gone—out.
SARAH ALLCOCK . I am the wife of the proprietor of the Clarendon—I recognise Rayner—he came into the bar and had some beer, for which I believe he paid a bad shilling—my barman made a communication to me, and while he was fetching the prisoner in I took some more money—there was nearly 1l. worth of silver in the till—a policeman brought Rayner back, he paid with a good florin, and I returned the. shilling without marking it.
Cross-examined. I put the shilling in the till which is the ordinary shape—there were a number of other shillings there at the time—I do remember taking another shilling, and putting it in the till—I took this shilling from the top of all the money.
JOHN GODFREY . I keep the Monarch Tavern, Manchester Street, Notting Hill—on the 20th October, between 8 and 9 o'clock in the evening, Brown tendered me a bad florin in payment for some gin—I returned it to her after bending it, as she said she knew where she took it from.
GEORGE GRAINGER (policeman T 501). I took the prisoners into custody just outside the railway station—Rayner did not say a word, but Brown stated that she knew that she had passed a bad florin, and had thrown it away.
RAYNER— NOT GUILTY .
BROWN— GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, November 23rd, 1875.
27. SIDNEY MARSHALL (40) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to unlawfully forging and uttering an order for the payment of 9l. 16s.; also an order for 9l. 5s., having been before convicted of felony— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
29. JOHN WHITTEN (30) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to stealing 12 skirts, of the value of 2l. 7s., of William R. Sutton, having been before convicted of felony— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
31. WILLIAM CRAWFORD SMITH (42) , to feloniously forging and uttering an order for four guineas with intent to defraud. Recommended to mercy by the Proacutor— [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] Judgment respited.
32. In the case of RICHARD WHEELER (40) , indicted for unlawfully inflicting grievous bodily harm upon William Holditch Stephens , the jury found him insane upon arraignment— Ordered to be Detained till Her Majesty's pleasure be Known.
GUILTY — Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
KELLY PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. THORPE COLE conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD POTTERILL (City Policeman 116). On the 5th November, about half-past four, I was on duty in Wood Street with Westwood—I saw the two prisoners and two others not in custody, one of the latter wheeling a barrow he up-ended the barrow, and the two prisoners and another went into the passage of 39, rolled a sale of goods into the barrow, and Kelly wheeled it away into Silver Street, accompanied by Lawson and the others—I had known both the prisoners before—when they got into Silver Street an alarm was given; Kelly instantly dropped the barrow, and all of them ran away, Kelly running down Wood Street, where I apprehehded him—the other men escaped—I saw Samson after that on the 15th November about 1.30 in the daytime in St. Paul's Churchyard—I told him I was a police-constable, and I should take him in charge for being concerned in stealing a sale of goods from a doorway in Wood Street—he said "You have made a mistake this time; I was not there"—I took him to the station-house—he was asked his name and address, and he said "I have no fixed place of residence."
HENRY HOOPER . I am a warehouseman at Mr. Crewdson's—on the 5th November a sale of goods was produced to me containing fourteen pieces of skirting—it belonged to Theodore Crewdson, and was valued at something like 12l. 12s.—it was placed in the passage on the ground floor on the the morning in question; and it was missed about 4.45 in the afternoon.
Lawson. I have only been in London fire weeks—the 5th of November being Guy Fawkes Day, I went down to Hitchen to see the fireworks, and never came home till 11 or 12 o'clock at night—I am entirely innocent of the charge brought against me—I have never seen the other prisoner before in my life.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.—
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK GOULD . I live at No. 31, Holy well Road, and am a carman—on the afternoon of Tuesday, the 16th November, about 3.30 I saw six or seven men in my father's yard—I went to them, told them to be off, and remonstrated with them—as I was going away one of them caught hold of me, hustled me, and took my watch from my left waistcoat pocket—I saw it in his hand—he then ran away and I followed him—I overtook and kept him until a policeman came up—I ran above 200 yards after him—the swivel broke from the chain when the watch was taken—it was in a doorway in North Place where I caught him—he tried to get away and struck me a blow, and the people from behind tore the coat from my back—I suppose they were his comrades.
By the Prisoner. The men came into the yard to ease themselves—I asked them to go further away, as they could not be allowed there—they took no notice of me, but muttered something that I could not understand—you hustled me as I was going back towards the office—the other men also endeavoured to stop me from entering the office, and they also attempted to stop me from running after you, who had the watch—I saw your hand take the watch from my pocket—I saw it in your right hand when I ran after you, and you put it under your coat—when I stopped you you tried to get away from me—I gave you in charge of a police-constable then, and directly after I let go of you they broke you from the constable, knocked him down, and took charge of his staff.
JOHN GOULD . I am a carman—I live at 31, Holywell Road, Bow, and I am a brother of the last witness—I was in the office on this occasion when the men came into the yard—I saw my brother go down to them to tell them to go away—they were too many for him—he walked back towards the office, two or three of them followed him round and took his watch, but I did not see it taken—I saw my brother run after the prisoner, and I followed and kept sight of him all the way—I saw the prisoner given into the policeman's custody—he got away from custody, and I then ran after him myself—in consequence of what a boy said to me, I went down a court and met the prisoner coming towards me—there was no thorough fare—I laid hold of him.
By the Prisoner. I saw them hustle my brother about—there were seven or eight of them altogether, and two or three of them followed him up the yard—the others were about the gate—the men were making water in the yard, and they blackguarded my brother—one of them caught him by the collar of his coat and turned him round—I saw my brother follow you, and he said that you were the man who had the watch—I ran to the North Buildings against the lodging-houses, and I saw my brother had—hold of you there.
Gould's custody in North Place—he was given up to a police-constable there were other men there—I went to the crowd to see what was going on, and one of them said' He would break my b----y jaws if I went near"—they hustled the constable; James got hold of him and some of the men—a woman then threw herself bodily between them and broke them away—I ran after the prisoner and followed him to the end of North Place—I called to some people to stop him, but they let him go on—I followed him round Chapel Street, and at the corner of File Street he called me a "b----y sod," and before I got to the end of File Street he drew ix knife to me—I called one or two persons to come to my assistance, but nobody cared to approach us, and so I let him go and went back to my work—he swung the knife round at me—it was open—I am satisfied he was the man.
By the Prisoner. I work at the Antelope Works close by the Model Lodging Houses—you were standing there when I saw you being held by Gould—your friends tried to get you away, and they succeeded—File Street runs in a parallel line with North Place—I was the only one, I believe, that was running after you there—I had hold of you when you took the knife out to me—you took it from your trousers pocket, opened it, and tried to strike me with it—you had it in your right hand—it was a stag-hom handle with a blade three inches long, I should suppose—you stood for a minute, and then lifted your hand towards me with the knife—the knife is the one produced.
WILLIAM TALLYN (Policeman G 127). I took the prisoner into custody a little after 3 o'clock on the afternoon of the day in question—he was in New North Place, a narrow street—he was rescued from me—I took him again into custody in the New Inn Yard—when I got him to the station I found the knife and handkerchief (produced) in his possession—the last witness swore it was the knife the prisoner had attempted to use as soon as he saw it.
By the Prisoner. You were rescued from me—I did not let go of you until I was forced—you did not walk away, you ran.
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutor was insolent to me. I was coming down Worship Street at the time he accused me of taking his watch. He was running after others and thought I was one of the persons along with them. The people near told him I was not the person. That was the reason the constable left loose of me. If his brother had seen me at the gateway he must have seen me take the watch. If I had been one of them I should have turned round and muzzled him. It has been all a get up for me; it was a preconcerted affair. I am innocent and work hard for my living. I did not take the watch. I have been living down the Southwark Bridge Road.
GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, January 24, 1875.
Before Mr. Baron Iluddleston.
36. In the case of PIETRO FERARI (34), alias PETER FARRELL [No offence given: see original trial image], the Jury, upon the evidence of Mr. John Rowland Gibson, surgeon of the gaol, found the prisoner insane— To be detained during Her Majesty's Pleasure.
MR. COLLINS and MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BRIXDLEY
HANNAH ALDWORTH . I am the wife of Joseph Aldworth, a carman, and live at Pond Place, Walham Green—I know the prisoner Jones, and knew his wife before she died—the last baby was born about November last year—the mother died about three months after—the child was brought to me by the prisoner's sister-in-law, Mrs. Jones, on 5th March; it seemed rather delicate, but I thought it was on account of the mother having been ill, and it seemed a little neglected; it was with me three months and a week, it was taken away at the latter end of May or the beginning of June; when it first came to me I had a child at the breast and I gave that one the breast; I took care of it, and it got on well, a good strong fat" child—the father (Jones) paid me 5s. a week—he came to see it three times in his right mind, I mean sober—he ultimately took the child away, he was dissatisfied—he said I was giving it sleeping stuff and killing it, and that I went out cadging with it; if did no such thing, I treated it as my own—Mrs. Newland had charge of it after that for three weeks—when I gave it up it had plenty of clothes, as many as would last two years—I saw it while it was in Mrs. Newland's care, and it was very clean and healthy and doing as it was when I had it—I only knew the female prisoner by. sight, I know she was living with Jones—I saw the child at the prisoner's house after Mrs: Newland gave it up, a great many times, it was then-in charge of the prisoner's daughter Emily, between eleven and twelve; it was always very dirty and very hungry, it used to eat ravenously everything you gave it, and it required clothes to keep it warm—I used to send for Id. worth of milk to make it bread and milk and it took it ravenously—I last saw it about sis weeks ago, when it was taken to the doctor's; it was then very dirty indeed, and looked quite starved; it had nothing on but an old frock and shift and an old black shawl wrapped round it.
Cross-examined. I did not know the mother well, only by seeing her come to her mother's nest door—I believe she died of consumption, I was never in her house till she lay dead—she was a delicate woman through neglect of her "husband, and being short of food, she used to go out to work, and I have known her to be out at work with half a bellyful of victuals—the other children are delicate, only through neglect—the child had a humour when I had it, but it got the better of that before I took it home; it was rather thin when it came to me and looked a little neglected through the mother being ill; the little girl had the care of it, but it was really a strong child—I weaned it before it left me and it got on well, it took the bottle as well as the breast—when I have gone to the prisoner's house I have seen a piece of dry bread on' the table, I was only at the house about twice—I most often saw the child at my place the man was too much of a blackguard for me.
By THE JURY. He has come to my place when he was intoxicated to burrow money, and because I had it not to lend him he abused me.
LOUISA NEWLAND . I am the wife of Thomas Newland, of 8, Kichard Street, North End—I took charge of the child for three weeks after Mrs. Aldworth gave it up at the beginning of June last—Jones asked me if I would look after it till he could get some one to take care of it; it was then
in a very good state, clean, and had good clothes—I gave it up to Emmings when she came to live with Jones as his wife—I live opposite to them—they had the whole house, two rooms and a wash-house; the rent was 3s. Gel. a week—Jones had three other children besides the infant, and Mrs. Emmings had four—she went to work sometimes, when she could get it, at a laundry—I saw the child two or three times after I gave it up, but I go out nursing and am not much at home—Emily Jones used to bring it over to me; it was in a dirty condition sometimes when it had not been washed; Emily had the washing of it; it had on sufficient clothes, if they had been clean—it was in very bad health when I took it to Mr. Godrich about six weeks ago, that was the time I showed it to Mrs. Aldworth; it looked very ill indeed, as if it was sinking—I have many a time given food to Emily to give to it; I did not see it eat it.
Cross-examined. The mother died of consumption, I think—I never knew the other children to be delicate, they had a thin, delicate look the child was very thin and poor looking before it went to Mrs. Aldworth—Jones paid me 2s. a week for looking after it—I gave it up to the female prisoner afterwards—they were often very short of food.
Re-examined. Dr. Godrich gave me an order for milk from the parish when I took the child to him, and I gave it to Mrs. Emmings—I told her the baby was very ill. and she cried and said "I can't help it, what am I to do?"
ELIZABETH HATTON . I am the wife of William Hatton, of 7, Orchard Place, Fulham, opposite the prisoner's—I last saw the child about a fortnight before it died—I did not see it often, I was out at work a great deal—on 7th October I heard it cry—Mrs. Emmings had gone to work and the little girl had run out to play—I went in and saw it in the corner of an old sofa—the fire had gone out and there was no one in the room—I took it home to my house and gave it some warm milk; it drank it very ravenously; it had a frock on, not very warm, but I don't think the child had been washed or dressed—I wrapped it up in my shawl and gave it to Mrs. Newland, who took it away—I saw Mrs. Emmings on that same day and told her I thought the baby was very ill, it looked as if it was dying—she burst out crying and said "I can't help it, if Jones don't bring me home the money I can't get sufficient food for the children"—I advised her to leave him, she was in a great state of destitution—I said I would go with her and take the children to the workhouse, her own children were in a great state of destitution and I could not see why she did not leave him—she said she would as soon as she could get a place—her own children were fine children when they came there, but they fell back very much, in fact, I often fed them; it was from hunger, because she did not have any money; they had no food in the house.
Cross-examine. I was not often in the house—I have never seen any food there—I don't think I have been there above three times since Mrs. Jones' death—Mr. Jones had not much furniture there—Mrs. Emmings' things were there as well as his—I know that she sold a mattress one day to get the children food—I have often given her children food, and his too.
MARTHA JONES . I am the wife of Daniel Jones, a labourer, of 1, Drchard Place—I am no relation of the prisoners—about a month before the child died it was brought to my house by the little girl Emily—it was revy dirty and hungry—I afterwards saw the female prisoner and told her he child looked very bad, and if it died she would perhaps get into trouble
—she had a milk order which Dr. Godrich had given her, and I offered to take it to the workhouse and get it signed—she said "Oh, never mind, if I can borrow 6d. I will get milk for that"—I don't remember seeing the child after that; I had seen it many times before; it was generally dirty and poorly clad, and always very ravenous for food I have given it bread and batter and milk—I once heard her say that she had received 27s. from Jones; I can't say where it was; it was on a Saturday; it may have been two months before the child's death, and she said she would have been able to have done very well but she had to pay 65. to go and see her boy put away in a reformatory—soon after Mrs. Aldworth brought the child back I told Jones it looked very bad; I thought it was going back—he said "Oh, if it can't eat what there is, it must put up with it."
SARAH BARTON . I am the wife of George Barton, of 4, Orchard Place, two doors from the prisoners'—after Jones' wife died Emmings came to live with him and brought her children with her—I have frequently seen the dead child—it pined very much from the time Emmings came there—I frequently fed it in my house; it fed very ravenously—the last time I fed it was on the Saturday before it died—it was very bad then—I never saw it alive after that—it had on a little frock and one little petticoat; it was not very clean—they were in want of food—I know Jones never brought his money home in his wife's time—she and I were very friendly at one time—he is a mat or rug maker by trade—he worked at a rope factory—he could always get work if he liked, but he wasted his-time and money in drink—I never spoke to him about the child; I have to Emmings, and she said has said she could not give them any further; she could not get the money to give them—I believe they were in want—she used to go out washing—she is an industrious woman—I never saw her the worse for drink, and I have known her seven years—her husband has been dead about twelve months.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Jones and I had not been on good terms on account of the children—before that we had been like sisters—I was not on bad terms with him—my husband and he had a few words, but that does not make me bitter against him; I only speak the truth.
SARAH ELIZABETH JONES . I am a widow—on Wednesday, the 3rd November, someone brought my grandchild to me—it was very poorly, and I sent for the doctor—he was not at home, and, finding the child much worse, I sent again; he was not at home and came the nest morning—the child died at about 5.20 on the afternoon of the 3rd.
Cross-examined. Jones' wife died of consumption, and I fancy all the children were ailing and took the mother's complaint—the child was sickly from its birth—it was always taken to the doctor's—it had plenty of clothing, a flannel petticoat, a shirt and chemise, and two other little things, and a little pair of socks—the prisoner said he thought the child was too far gone—it was brought to me by its sister, who is between eleven and twelve years old—there was always plenty of food in the house for the children, but in a plain way—Jones would lay out 8s. or 9s. on a Saturday night for meat, bread, and other things as well—if he bad no money, he could always borrow it—he could have credit.
By THE COURT. I am his mother—I know there was always plenty of victuals in the house when I went there—I seldom ever went to the house—I might run down of a night and not stay more than a minute and go home again—perhaps I would go four or five times in a month—I very seldom stopped at all—my son used to work at a rope factory—he could
sometimes earn 305., 30s., or 1l., according to his orders—he is a good workman.
Re-examined. I have not been with him when he has spent money for food—I have never seen him spend Si. on meat and bread, but we have seen it go home.
DAVID DYE (Policeman T 147). I took Emmings into custody on the the Sunday—she lived about three-quarters of a mile from Orchard Place when the door was opened she came half downstairs and said "All right, Mr. Dye, I know what you want. I done all I could for the child. I have three children of my own. I have to work for them. Jones gave me a few shillings at different times. He would sometimes bring home bread and milk for the baby. I have given the baby a little arrowroot and milk, and a little wine when I could afford it."
Cross-examined. I don't think she said Jones might have bought wine for the child—I may have said wine before the Magistrate—my deposition was read over to me and I signed it.
Emmings. I did tell the gentleman that when Mr. Jones had the money himself he brought a little wine and milk in with him and frequently fed the baby. Witness. She said "bread and milk"—I don't think she said "wine."
HENRY WENHAM (Police Inspector T). I was at the station when Jones was brought in on Saturday, the 6th November—after he had been there some little time he wanted to know why he was detained—I told him I was having enquiries made, and he said to his mother, who was in the room "I won't bury the b----y kid. Let the parish do it. Look here, old woman, I am locked up. Sell all the things. Don't give the other two children anything. Let the parish keep them"—the charge was afterwards taken later in the day—I asked him to tell me where the woman lived, and he gave me an address, and at that time said she lived with him in every way as his wife—he said he had taken them all he could and done all he could—if the child had not had it it was not his fault—ho was charged about 3 o'clock in the morning, and I read the charge over to him.
Cross-examined. He was first taken to the station at about 4 o'clock in the afternoon—he was kept there till 3 o'clock the next morning before the charge was preferred against him—he merely asked what he was detained for—he was to all appearances sober when he used the language stated—he might have been angry—he did not say anything about the parish prosecuting, in my hearing.
EMILY ELIZABETH JONES . I am the daughter of Frederick Jones—I recollect Emmings coming home to live with us about four months before my little sister died—I used to attend to the children—I sometimes had food to give the baby and sometimes not—there was not enough for the baby—I did not ask anyone for food—sometimes went without it and sometimes Mrs. Barton, a neighbour, would give me some—Mrs. Emmiuga went out to work and I had charge of the child—I had not enough food to cat—I sometimes said something about it to my father—he used not to say anything—the child seemed ill—my father saw it—he used to say it looked very bad.
Cross-examined. There was generally food in the house most days—it was only occasionally that we were short of food—sometimes Mrs. Emmings and sometimes my father brought food to the house—we had
that was brought in—sometimes they brought enough sugar to last the week—sometimes there was plenty of bread in the house—I don't. know how much a week was paid for bread—I fed the baby myself when there was food and Mrs. Emmings fed the baby—my father was sometimes kind to the baby and fed it—he seemed sorry at its looking so ill.
Emmings. I used to leave money with the little girl three times a day to get milk for the baby. Witness. Sometimes she gave me a penny; not as much as three times a day—some times at dinner time, sometimes at tea time—I bought the milk and gave it to the baby—my father used to go out to work—when he was in work there would sometimes be food in the house—I don't know-how it was—sometimes there would not be food in the house although he was at work—sometimes he would be at work and sometimes not—he was most always—when there was food in the house Mrs. Emmings used to give it to us always—she was kind to us—she would sometimes bring home her own earnings and buy food with them and give it to my sister—when she was not at work she attended to the children and look after them and washed them and feed them and give them clothes, and when she went to work she would leave me to do that, and if there was food in the house I would give it them, and if there was not I could not—she was kind and attentive to us during the time I was there—I have been to the union, and this is the union dress I have on."
DR. GODRICH. I practice at Fulham—I attended Jones' wife after her confinement last November—she died of consumption—I forget when—I saw the child at that time—I didn't take much notice of it—there was nothing to draw my attention to the fact that it was ailing—I believe I saw it some days after it was born—it was an ordinary child—I made. 1 post-mortem on Saturday the 6th November—I found the child attenuated to the last degree—there was not a particle of fatty matter over the chest or" abdomen—the Organisation generally was healthy—I examined the lungs particularly for traces of phthisis or consumption, which were absent—there was no trace of disease of the lungs—I also examined the mesenteric glands, in which phthisis generally takes place in children; they were shrunken, hut healthy; no sign of consumption—there were some old standing Adhesions, showing that there had at the same time been chronic inflammation of the peritonaeum—the peritonaeum itself was completely devoid of fat—is a rule, it is very fatty—the cause of death was improper and insufficient food—I do not think I could say starvation—not enough; I am quite open to race the cause of death to that.
Cross-examined. The children had an attack of scarlet fever after the mother's death—I drew the attention of the relieving officer to the children, that they were not having sufficient" nourishment—the mother naturally affords the best food for a young child—there is great difficulty in rearing a young child that has lost its mother; it requires its mother's breast for eight or nine months, often for a year or more—children are lost in being reared without their mother unless great care be used—you may fail in trying in a most careful way a number of preparations to provide the necessary nourishment—even in the same family one kind of food may answer for one child and not another—most children take the breast freely if in good health—the adhesions of the peritonaeum showed there had been at some time chronic diarrhea or something of that sort—I found the stomach perfectly empty, and not more than two ounces of semi-digested food in the
whole alimentary canal—more like bread than milk—I should expect a pint or two pints at the very least—if a child had been sick shortly before it died it might account for an empty stomach, but not for the appearance of the alimentary canal—I saw the child about a month before it died; it looked worse then than it did after death—it was pinched, dirty, and in a most deplorable condition—I only saw its face when it was brought to me; it was washed when I saw it after death—I have no recollection whatever of the grandmother bringing the child to me—I don't think I said before the Magistrate that I had some recollection of the grandmother bringing the Child, but was not positive—I said the woman who brought me the child was Mrs. Newland.
Jones deposition before the Coroner was read, showing he, was receipt of good wages.
Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Jones says: "It was not my fault. I was at work from morn till night, and Emmings had charge of the child. "Emiming Bays;" I used to go to work and leave 3d. worth of milk for the child with the child aged three years old. It was not my fault if that was not given."
Emmings' Defence. Jones used to give me 11s. every Saturday to do the best I could. One week ho gave me 27s.; that was when I went to see my little boy when he was sent to a reformatory.
JONES— GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
EMMINGS— NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT—Wednesday, November 24th, 1875.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WARNER SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. H. AVORY the Defence.
HENRY ARNOLD . I live at 11, Commodore Terrace, Commodore Road, Stepney—I am employed at the Civil Service Supply Association, 136, Queen Victoria Street—it is a different association to the one we are speaking about—I was at Bow Lane on 6th November about 2.30, when the prisoner accosted me—he asked me if I would like to earn 6d.—I said "Yes," and he told me to take this bill (produced) to the New Civil Service and they would give me a parcel—I did so, and brought the parcel back to Cannon Street, where he told me to meet him with it—he said "Would you like a glass of beer?"—I said I should not mind, and we went into a public-house—while we were there the prosecutor, Mr. Webster, came in and said to the prisoner "Where are those receipts for the parcel you got from the boy just now"—the prisoner pulled out two papers and gave them to Mr. Webster, which Mr. Webster said had nothing to do with it, as they were several days old—the prisoner said afterwards that a gentleman had promised him 2s. if he would get the parcel, which he was to take to Cannon Street station—I saw a gentleman about 6 yards off from the prisoner when he sent me for the parcel, but I did not see him speak to the
prisoner, nor apparently take any part in this transaction—all three of us, Mr. Webster, the prisoner, and I, at the prisoner's request, walked to Cannon Street station to meet the gentleman he mentioned—on the way the prisoner stated that he was not to meet him at the station, but inside a public-house opposite—we went in and waited three-quarters of an hour; nobody came, and the prisoner was given into custody and taken to the station.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the prisoner before, and do not know him by sight—I am quite sure he is the man—in the first instance he told me to meet him at the public house—he also said "I will give you 6d. or. t his gentleman will," pointing to the gentleman who was standing 6 yards off—this order is just in the same condition as when he gave it to me—Mr. Webster came into the public-house immediately after we entered—I knew somebody was following me immediately behind all the way.
WILLIAM THOMPSON . I am counterman at the New Civil Service Cooperative Stores—on 6th November, about 2.30, the last witness handed me this order—I made up the parcel, spoke to the cashier, and subsequently gave the goods to the boy.
Cross-examined. A piece of paper pinned on to the order aroused my suspicions, and also half the stamp—it is usually pasted on—the cashier directed me to make up the goods after referring to his book and finding out that there was something wrong with the order.
WILLIAM ROYSTON WEBSTER . I am clerk and book-keeper in the employment of this co-operative society—on 6th November I followed the boy an old into a public-house at the corner of Bow Lane, Cannon Street—I first saw a person speak to the boy before going into the public-house—he took the parcel away from him—I would not have allowed the prisoner to go out of my sight with that property—I asked the prisoner for the receipt for these goods which he had taken from the boy—these (produced) are the two he took from his pocket—these other orders (produced) are in the same writing—the other orders have reference to fraudulent transactions.
Cross-examined. The receipts are made out by the cashier—the bill or invoice is similar in the handwriting—the receipts have nothing to do with the handwriting—I followed the boy by the direction of the general manager—I am quite sure I never lost sight of him nor the parcel.
ARTHUR BLACK . I am one of the cashiers in the Civil Service Cooperative Society—5 1/2 d. was paid upon this order, No. 65,273, 11. 18s. 9d.—this small piece of paper (produced) does not belong to the order, but to ft different one entirely.
Cross-examined. First of all the money is paid and an entry is made by the cashier—the cheque clerk sticks this on and passes it to the cashier, who enters it in his book; he receipts this, and stamps also the part the customer keeps.
GEORGE HODGKINS . I am counterman at the New Civil Service Cooperation—I made up the parcel for this order, No. 64,025—I do not remember to whom I gave it, but I have seen the prisoner before within a month from the time he was taken in custody—I have served him at my counter.
Cross-examined. We do not have many hundreds of people at the counter
in a day, I should say a hundred—I do not remember all our customers within a month.
JAMES FULLER (City Policeman). I took the prisoner on 6th November—at the station he was searched, and I found upon him these three blank order forms (produced)—this Civil Service list and two orders, 64,025 and 63,370, also 22. 10 1/2 d. in good money, and a bad florin—he refused his name and address—when I told him the charge he said "I was employed by another man to fetch these goods and was to receive 2s.; I then remained to have some beer and offered this boy 6d. to fetch them for me, I thought it a rather strange transaction."
HENRY RANDALL (City Detective Sergeant). I have charge of this case—the prisoner at first refused his name and address, but afterwards gave it I went to that address, found it quite correct, and there were some materials of a shoe making trade there.
MR. HORACE AVORY submitted that no larceny was proved. The goods were not taken without the leave of the owner, the fraud was discovered in time, and they had never actually parted with the property or possession. (See Reg. v. Doran, I Dearsley, 436.)
THE COURT was of opinion that the possession of the boy, who was an innocent agent, was the possession of the prisoner, and that, consequently, the larceny was complete.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WARNER SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRAIN appeared
HENRY RANDALL (Detective Sergeant). I know Chambre, and from what he said I sent two officers to a public-house where Davis was—he was brought to the station—I searched him and found upon him a bottle of sauce, I lb. sausages, a pork pie, a pint of champagne, and some money—I asked him how he accounted for them—he said "I cannot say anything against them"—I went to his residence, 49, Hill Street, Walworth, and found there these articles—I showed them to him at the police-station and he repeated the statement he made before—Chambre said at the police-station in the presence of Davis "I got these things from Davis, my master"—Davis made no reply.
Cross-examined. It was 10 o'clock when I went to his house—there was no difficulty with his wife—I found the things in various parts of the house.
WILLIAM HOLT (Detective Officer). I was examined twice at the police-court, the first time there was a remand—I took Davis in custody in a billiard-room—he said "All right, wait a moment, and I will go quietly with you; we don't want to have any bother here, we will go outside"—at that time another officer came up—on the way to the station the prisoner threw a bottle of something, I could not say what, away—he was very violent and said if he had a revolver he would shoot me—I put my hand to the side of his coat and felt a hard substance, it turned out to be a pint of champagne—he took out his handkerchief, and part of a German sausage dropped on my toe.
Cross-examined. I cannot say whether he bought the champagne in the public-house—I did not charge him with that.
JOHN BRUNTON MCARTHUR . I am manager of the grocery department of this co-operative society—I have seen all this property, and identify it as ours, sardines, extract of meat, tins of milk, and candles—Davis was in the druggist's department, but was discharged before I went into the Company's service—his position was a responsible one, and he had the confidence of the society.
Cross-examined. These things can be purchased anywhere—I do not know that persons in the employ of the stores get presents—I have been in a private shop, and I know it is customary there for persons to receive presents at Christmas time—he could have purchased these things at our place if he had chosen.
Re-examined. He could not have purchased these things without our consent—I never gave him my consent.
Both Prisoners received good characters.
DAVIS— GUILTY .
Recommended to mercy by the Jury— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
CHAMBERE— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
40. EDWARD CHELMICK (44) , Stealing forty-nine pieces of silk, two pieces of cloth, and four pieces of stuff, of Henry Hill, his master; and LEAH LAVENTHALL (25) , feloniously receiving the same, to which CHELMICK PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. M. WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution; MR. COLLINS defended
WALTER ANDREWS (Detective Officer). Sergeant Morgan and I received certain instructions with regard to the premises of Messrs. Hill, army tailors, and watched them in consequence—on three occasions I saw Chelraick leave and go to Laventhall's house, 8, West Street, Golden Square—on Thursday, 28th October, I followed Chelmick to her shop, where he handed her some silk—I ran in and said "I shall take you into custody for stealing this from your employer"—he said "I know I have done wrong; I can't think how I could have been so foolish"—I raised my umbrella to Morgan, who was outside, and he came in—I saw a quantity of silk in the back parlour on the floor, and some on a chair—I heard Laventhall say "That is all the silk I have had from Mr. Hill's; don't lock me up for the sake of my two children"—she became very excited, kissed our hands, and begged not to be taken in custody—some more silk was found in a hamper under the bed—I found inside Chelmick's coat a large pocket—I afterwards searched his house.
Cross-examined. Morgan came in the shop about a quarter of a minute after me—I did not say who Chelmick's employers were—I have been examined on two days, but do not remember the exact dates—Chelmick said to me "Who are my employers?—I said "You know surely as well as I do"—then I said "Mr. Hill"—I did not take a file of invoices from the shop, nor did I see any other officer take any.
DANIEL MORGAN (Detective Officer). On the 28th October I was with Andrews watching the premises—on his giving me the signal I went into Laventhall's shop—I found a lot of silk on the floor in the back parlour, and when I told her I should charge her with receiving it she said "I have never seen the man before; this is the first time I have ever seen him, and 1 have not purchased what the officer has"—she fell on her knees, and begged me for the sake of her two children not to charge her—she brought me some more pieces of silk, and I found more in a basket under the bed—
a female relative of hers was present during the whole of the search and conversation—Laventhall stated that the business was hers, but that her husband was at the Cape of Good Hope—she also said where the silk came from, and in Chelmick's presence—this (produced) is one of the invoices I took away.
Cross-examined. The other woman begged that Laventhall should not be taken in charge—the parlour door was not shut—Andrews was present when Laventhall was on her knees.
Cross-examined. It was between 1 and 2 o'clock in the day.
WILLIAM STURGIS . I am employed by Messrs. Hill, of 3, Old Bond Street—the prisoner was a cutter there, and would have access to the linings and silks—I recognise these (produced) as belonging to my employers.
Cross-examined. We have no special mark they are like ours.
ALBERT FERRY . I am a silk manufacturer—I manufacture this article—I have supplied Messrs. Hill with 600 yards of it this year, and manufacture for them expressly, and have not sold any of this pattern to anyone else—I recognise some more of this which I have supplied to them.
Cross-examined. I have supplied some of this (produced) to another firm.
Laventhall received a good character.
LAVENTHALL— GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment
CHELMICK— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, November 24th, 1875.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. DIXON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MOKTAGU WILLIAMS
JAMES IRVING (Policeman II 40). I was in Pell Street on Saturday night, the 6th November, about 12.30, when I saw the prosecutor crossing the road—I saw Kelly go up to him and strike him a violent blow in the stomach—he then fell forward—Kelly caught hold of his right shoulder and dragged his coat off, and Brian took the coat and gave it to another man, who ran up Pell Street—I don't know him—they ran off and I ran after them and caught Kelly—Brian turned round and said "You s—, let him go"—he then ran down Pell Street—I then took Kelly back to a house which prosecutor was taken into and asked him what had been done, and he said he had lost his coat, and he then came to the station and charged Kelly—about an hour afterwards I went down Graham Street, Mint Struct, and apprehended Brain and told him the charge, and he said he didn't know anything about it—the prosecutor had a slight scar on the forehead and was rather the worse for drink—I think the scar was done by the scuffle—he full on his face after the coat was taken off—in consequence
of inquiries made the following morning I went to prosecutor's house and found the coat on the doorstep.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor was capable of walking to the station—he was very drunk—I was 30 or 40 yards off when I first saw Kelly—two men attacked, but three ran—I did not say before the Magistrate "there were three who attacked the prosecutor"—my deposition was read over and I signed it—Kelly had got about 60 yards off from the place when the prosecutor was knocked down—when I took him into custody he said he was not the man.
Cross-examined by Brian. I found you in Cartwright Street—you were. not in a house—I saw you on the night the robbery occurred, with Kelly.
WILHELM FRANKMAN (interpreted). I live in Pell Street, St. George's—I am a sugar baker—I went out about 12 o'clock on Saturday night, the 6th November, when somebody came out of a door and knocked me down senseless—I cannot say who it was, or how many there were—I lost 30s. and a coat and hat—that is my coat (produced)—it was left on my door step.
Cross-examined. I was drunk.
Brian was further charged with having been convicted of felony on the 8th February, 1875, at Clerkenwell, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven years' Penal Servitude.
KELLY— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution,
JOHN POOLE BUDD . I am a dairyman carrying on business at 211, Seven Sisters' Road—on Wednesday night the 17th instant I went to bed at a 10.45—I saw to all the doors and windows with the exception of the front door—I don't see to that because I have lodgers in the house—I got up in the morning at 5.45 and I missed from the parlor an alabaster time-piece; it has not been found—there was the image of a boy in gilt and a glass-shade—the glass shade was found in the yard nest door—I missed a variety of other things—a coat, a pair of boots, a suit of black, a pair of common cord trousers, and a box containing 11s. and is 4 worth of farthings from the till in the shop, and a jacket and penknife belonging to my brother—I gave information to the police at once—I then found a pane of glass had been cut clean out of the kitchen window—it was entire the night before—my brother Henry sleeps there on a chair bed—he is up the same time and runs about till about 10 o'clock at night—I have a trouble to wake him—that is the property (produced)—I don't think there is a pencil case—there were two knives—that is my brother's knife—that is my jacket that I put on the first thing in the morning—after looking at the window I went outside into the yard, where I found a pair of old trousers and two pairs of old boots—the detective took them away.
HENRY BUDD . I am the brother of the last witness and live in his house and sleep on a chair bed in the kitchen—there was not a pane of glass out when I went to bed—I did not know what had happened until I woke up in the morning at about 5.45—I am generally called—when I went to bed there was a key of a box and a penknife in my trousers pocket—the key was left on a shelf in the kitchen—it fits a box of mine in which I had a jacket, and which was gone in the morning—Jeffrey's was in
my brother's employ fifteen months ago and would know all the ins and outs of the place.
CHARLES WEATHERBY . I reside at 6, Old Wellington Street, Holloway, and am in the employ of Mr. Rhodes, a cab proprietor—on Thursday morning, between 4 and 5 o'clock, the 18th November, I was in Mr. Talby's coffee-shop at the corner of St. James's Street—I generally go there and have my breakfast at that time—I saw the two prisoners there—I saw the two prisoners there—I have seen them before about there—they had some coffee and bread and butter, and I saw Jenkins pull out a red handkerchief with farthings to pay—there was a goodish few farthings; I didn't notice how many—he paid for his coffee and bread and butter in farthings—as I was going out they asked me if I wanted to buy a clock, which they described as marble, with the figure of a boy on the top, and the glass broken—I didn't buy it.
Jenkins. I paid for my breakfast with a silver sixpence. I didn't pay at all in farthings another boy with us paid in farthings. Witness. There was another boy there, but Jenkins took the farthings out of his pocket in a red handkerchief.
Jenkins. There was nothing said about a clock. Didn't you come up and say to me "Give me a little dog and it shall never come out of doors?" A. No such thing, I have got a little pup at home, and I want to got rid of that.
HENRY FLANAGHAN . I live at 22, Bowman's Row—on Thursday evening, the 18th November, I was in the coffee-house, when Jeffreys offered to sell me this coat (produced) for sixpence—I don't think it is a very small price for it—I asked him where he got it from, and he said his father had bought it in Somers Town—I bought it and gave him sixpence—he said he wanted some tea.
ROBERT WHITE (Detective Officer Y). On the Thursday morning after the robbery, in consequence of information I received, I went to the prosecutor's premises and looked in the yard—there is a wall 7 feet high—I first went into 209 and then got over into 211—the glass shade was found in the yard by the prosecutor—I saw a pane of glass had been removed—on Friday I took Jenkins into custody—I told him the charge—I looked down at his feet and said "Where did you get those boots from?"—he said he found them in the Cattle Market on Thursday—they were lady's boots—he had got them on—I took him took him to the station and searched him, and found on him 6d. in bronze and a penknife (produced)—he made no reply—he was wearing this white jacket (produced).
WILLIAM WITHAM (Detective Officer Y). At a little before 4 o'clock on the Friday I took Jeffreys into custody in the Cattle Market—I told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with others in breaking into a milk shop where he was previously employed—I took him to the station—he was wearing this pair of cord trousers, which have been identified—I asked him where he got them from, and he told me he bought them in Somers Town—the braces, also identified by the boy as belonging to him, were attached to the trousers—he was wearing a pair of boots which have not been identified—I had had my attention called to his boots previous to the robbery—I saw his toes were out of the right boot and thought 1 had a better pair at home I could give him—a similar pair of boots was found in the yard with a hole in the right hand side of the
right boot—the trousers left in the yard he is now wearing—we took the others off.
Jenkins' defence. I bought all that I had.
Jeffreys' defence. The coat 1 bought down at Somers Town and the boots I bought before.
JENKINS— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
JEFFREYS— GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. AUSTIN METCALFE conducted the Prosecution. William Augier (Policeman G 123). On the night of the 13th and morning of the 14th November I went my round—I felt the door of No. 55, Middleton Square, and found it insecurely fastened—I last felt the door at 5.40, just before I saw the prisoner getting over the wall—he had a bundle with him, which was in a sack (produced)—he was on the top of the wall, and he dropped the bundle over the other side into the garden again—I pursued him over several other walls—he went into Claremont Mews and was taken by G 106—I searched him and found on him these articles (produced)—I looked at the door when I went back to Myddleton Square and found the back door fastened—I did not find any of the windows open.
WILLIAM DYKE (Policeman G 106). I saw the prisoner on the top of the wall at about 5.45—he ran down the wall and dropped into the garden—I went round another way by the mews and saw him coming up the mews and knew him—I asked what he was doing—he said he was going down to feed his horse—I said "You were on the top of that wall"—he said "No," and then 123 came up—I saw the forks and spoons, and took them from his pocket.
GEORGE PAKES (Policeman G 116). I heard the spring of a rattle and went to the other constables—after the prisoner was taken to the station I went to the backdoors of Nos. 55, 56, 57, and examined them—I found the big bag produced and it contained a silver plaited tea-pot and a purse, pencil case, c.; identified by Eliza Jackson and Mrs. Capon.
NINA CAPON . I am the wife of Frederick Capon and live at No. 55, Myddleton Square—I went to bed at about 12 o'clock on the night in question—I did not see to thesecurity of the house—I left it to the servant—these articles (produced) are ail mine—they were in the kitchen on the night in question when I went to bed—I was called up by the police in the morning and saw both the doors open—I do not know of my' own knowledge whether they were shut or open before.
ELIZA JACKSON . I am servant to Mrs. Capon—on Saturday evening, the 13th, I shut the back door at 7 o'clock in the evening—nobody went through after that—no one could without my knowledge—the purse and pencil case are mine—they were not in the kitchen—the doors were both closed when I went to bed.
Prisoner. About 2.45 on the 13th the doors were open when I was passing through Myddleton Square. I went up to the door and listened, and hearing all quiet I passed through the hall to the back door. I had no molestation or obstacle to prevent me going to the garden. I returned and went upstairs, where I concealed myself under a bed. There I remained until 12.45 a.m. on the 14th. When I came down all the doors were open, both back and front, and I was able to work without any tools; there was nothing to impede me.
Prisoner. It was 2.45 in the afternoon when I entered the house, and when I came back at 12.45 a.m. on the 14th the door was half-way open. I shut the door and bolted it. When the door was examined the next morning there was a bolt on it. It would be impossible for me to open the door with a bolt without leaving any marks behind.
MRS. CAPON (re-called). I do not know whether either of the doors were bolted in the morning—the policeman had not been in before or anybody—I opened the front door to let the policeman in—that was not bolted and these tools I found on the slab.
Prisoner PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction for burglary at this Court on 1st February, 1875, and another was proved against him— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. DENNISON conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN PEARSON . I am a baker at Mr. Drew's, Shad well, and live at 11 Has well Street, Bermondsey—on Saturday night, 6th November, I was in George Street, Shad well, at about 1.30. when I was tripped up by the prisoner and other person not in custody—the prisoner put his hand in my pocket—I sung out "Police!"and a policeman captured him and brought him back—I missed my money and my tobacco box—I am sure he is one of the two persons.
HENRY SIMMONS (Policeman H 217). I saw the prisoner with another man not in custody, loitering under the Dock Wall—about tea minutes afterwards I saw the prosecutor, and the prisoner and another man took hold of him and threw him—the prosecutor shouted "Police," and ran away—I followed, and when he got to the corner of Glasshouse Street he threw something down—I caught him in Glasshouse Street—then he dropped something else down—I asked him what it was—he said "Nothing"—I looked down and found this tobacco box (produced)—I then took him back and looked and found a 2s. piece, and prosecutor then came up and identified him as one of those who had robbed him—when the charge was read over to him he said he and his mate had been to work and received their money, 14s. each—when he was searched a penny was found on him.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. D. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
PHILIP SHRIVES (Detective Officer C). On Friday, 12th November, about 3 o'clock, a man named Daley came to the station and saw me and another detective—in consequence, a little after 9 o'clock in the evening, I went to Oxford Street (corner of Duke Street) and there saw Daley and gave him certain instructions—at 9.30 I saw the prisoner come up to him at the corner of George Street and Oxford Street—I was about 20 yards off—I had Jacobs (201) with me—I saw Daley and the prisoner talking together for some minutes, and they had some words; they were talking very loud, and
the prisoner was trying to get away—Daley would not let him go, and took hold of him once or twice—I heard the prisoner say "It was you, it was not me"—Daley said he would give him into custody, and I went and asked them both to go round the corner and tell me what it was about—Daley said "Didn't you want me to go to the jeweller's shop over the way and give the old man some chloroform, and rob the jeweller's shop?"and the prisoner said "No"—lie said "Didn't you want me to go and break into the jeweller's, shop at night?"—he said "No"—he said "It appears to be all."No"—I asked if he had anything about him—he said "No, only tools,"—I said "You will have to go to the station"—on the way to the station he said Daley was as bad as he was, and he ought to be locked up as well, "but unfortunately I have the tools on me"—I took him to the station and searched him, and found this jemmy wrapped in paper, a crowbar, a chisel wrapped in paper, a piece of candle, a table knife, and a box of matches (produced)—the knife might be used to push back the catch of a window—I found some keys—I asked his address and he gave me 103, Cambridge Street, Chelsea; there is no 103, Cambridge Street—I afterwards asked him to give his address, and he said his father lived at 139, Vauxhall Bridge Road—I went there, and they said he didn't live there.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not hear you say "when you came up to Daley "It was you that first started this, I wish to have nothing to do with it," or that you were sorry you had come—you were about to go away and he wouldn't let you go.
HUGH DALEY . I at present reside in the Goliath training ship off Gravesend—I remember the morning of Friday, the 12th November, at 11.30—I met the prisoner at the Vine Street police-station—he was reading a hill about a great robbery—he said "Good luck to him, may he never be caught"—he entered into conversation with me—we went up Oxford Street—he told me he had been into a place in Oxford Street and opened a desk and had found the till of money, which he would have taken, but he put it back again—he told me going up Oxford that he was going to break into a jeweller's shop, and asked me whether I would help him to break into it with him—he then took me round to Hill Place—I cannot exactly remember the name of the place—he showed me a back entrance which we could get in, and pointed out Piggott's, the jeweller's, shop in Oxford Street, and said "There is where we will get in"—then, going towards Regent's Circus, he said "Will you meet meet me at Hall Allen's, drapers, in Oxford Street, at 9.30"—I said I would, and we walked down some distance, and we parted—I then went to a constable of the D division and told him all about it—he told me to go to Marlborough Street police-station, which I did, and made a communication to the police, and the last witness and Jacobs went up with. me in the evening to the appointed place—the prisoner met me—the police wore a distance off, still they could hear what was going on—the prisoner said "Well, you have kept your word"—I said "Yes, I have kept my word, I am very sorry that ever you thought of bringing me into such a thing"—when the prisoner found I did not want to do such a thing he wanted to go away, but I would not let him and said "If you don't mind what you're about I'll give you into custody"—he got very angry when I called Jacobs and Shrives and was going to give him into custody—they came up and began to talk and asked him what was the—matter, and they took him into custody—I am a light porter.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not say to me when you came
up that you wished to have nothing to do with it; that you were sorry that you had come, that you were sorry I had ever suggested such a thing; that nothing had been done, and no crime had been committed; and nothing should be done, and that you would go home and take the tools.
Prisoner. Well I will spare him uttering those lies which I should expect to the enquiries I should put to him.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I can swear on my oath, calling God to witness, that when the detective took me into custody I had no intention of committing a felony, or any crime whatsoever."
The Prisoner, in his defence, alleged that Daley was the person who endeavoured to instigate him to the commission of the proposed burglary.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, November 25th. 1875.
Before Mr. Baron Hudleston.
MR. METCALFE. Q.C., for the Prosecution (with the consent of the Court) offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Baron Huddleston.
KENT CASES. "
MR. SIMS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER the Defence.
EDWARD SAVAGE . I am a labourer at iron works and live at 3, Orchard Street, Blackheath—on 29th October, about 6.30 a.m., I saw the prisoner walking very fast in Davis Place, where he lives—he was calling out "Good bye, wife and child"—his wife was running after him in her nightdress, calling him back and asking him what he had done—he said "I have done it; I have cut my child's throat"—he said that he was going to give himself into the hands of the police—Simmonds asked him what he had done—he said "I have cut my child's throat go to my wife's assistance"—I followed the prisoner—he went towards the Blackheath Road, towards the station-house—I met Alter—I told him, and he took the prisoner—he was quiet going to the station.
Cross-examined. I only knew him by sight.
WILLIAM ATLER (policeman R 18). I was on duty and saw Savage following the prisoner—from what he said I asked the prisoner what he had done—he said "I have cut my child's throat"—I took him to the station and he was charged with an attempt to murder.
WILLIAM SLOAN (Police Inspector It). On 21st October Alter brought the prisoner to the station at Blackheath Road, Greenwich—Savage stated in the prisoner's hearing what he has to-day, but he said nothing then—I afterwards went to 2, Davis Place, Greenwich, and saw a child named Kate Charlotte Gower on a bed attended by Mr. Brock—another daughter of the prisoner gave me this razor (produced)—I saw no marks on it, but it appeared
to have been recently wiped—I had the little girl removed to the hospital. and returned to the prisoner—on my entering he first said "Is she dead?"—I said "No; the wound although a large one is not considered serious"—I had the razor in my hand, and said "Is this your property V—he said "Yes, that is what I done it with"—I entered the charge and told him what he was charged with; he made no reply—he seemed in a very nervous depressed state when he was brought to the station, and also the second time I saw him—he was perfectly sober.
Cross-examined. He seemed in ill-health and he was seated before the Magistrate.
JOHN BROCK . I am a surgeon and assistant to Mr. Roper, of 5, Lewisham Road, Greenwish—on 29th October, at 6.30,1 went to the prisoner's house and saw Kate Charlotte Gower, a girl 8 years of age, suffering from a long wound going from under her ear to her chin—there was a considerable amount of venous hemorrhage, but no artery was cut—it gradually got deeper and was deepest in the center—I dressed it temporarily, stopped the marriage, and sent her to Guy's Hospital—this razor—would inflict the wound—she is progressing favourably, but is not fit to come out.
Cross-examined. I expect she will recover—I know nothing of the prisoner—I have studied madness—a person suffering under bronchitis or consumption would suffer from wakefulness from coughing, which is apt to produce great depression of spirits—if a person had hereditary insanity, especially on the mother's side, such depression added to any misfortune in life would he apt to bring on mania—hereditary insanity is greater on the mother's side than on the father's, and is more likely to be hereditary, as is any other disease—it is likely to come on suddenly in paroxisms and then disappear almost immediately after—if I find that a man's mother was insane, and his grandmother insane, and his sisters insane, and he does an act like this, I should presume he had an hereditary taint, if he had no motive.
Re-examined. The nature of the paroxysms "would be such that he would not know what he was doing, and he would not be responsible—I cannot say whether a person suffering from such paroxysms would know the difference between right and wrong—it would be consistent with fact that when the paroxysms passed away he would know the effect of his actions, though he did not know he was doing wrong at the time—I think he would recollect the minute details—I think he would become suddenly aware of the nature of the act—I saw him before the Magistrate four hours afterwards—I should expect that sleeplessness, the product of bronchitis and consumption, would exhibit traces after it had produced a paroxysm of insanity, but I did not notice them in the prisoner when I saw him about 11 o'clock or 11.30—he looked careworn and depressed, but I cannot say whether he appeared as if he had suffered from a paroxysm—I have said "I cannot say that he exhibited any signs of a paroxysm"—he looked very worn, tired, and fatigued—I did not examine him for bronchitis or consumption.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I don't know what to say. I did not know what I was about at the time."
Witnesses for the defence.
MARTHA GAIN . The prisoner is my only brother—he is the youngest of a family of five—I have seen him off and on during the whole of my life until the last three or four months—he was coachman to Mr. Lethbridge, a solicitor of 25, Abingdon Street, Westminster—the prisoner was kind and
affectionate as a husband and father—he was very fond of his youngest child; it was his pet child—he has been in failing health from consumption for some time past—he left Mr. Lethbridge's service last year—he was then in very low spirits—my sister Elizabeth was placed in Hayward's Heath Lunatic Asylum five years ago, and is there still—for some time before she went there, she was very strange, and at the last she became violent, and I found it necessary to send her there, though she was capable of taking care of herself—that is a pauper asylum—she was sent by the parish as a pauper lunatic—there is another sister Catherine; her mind is the same; she is insane—I have not seen her for two years—she is single—she talks strangely—she cannot do anything to keep herself, and she goes rambling about, and I do not know where she has rambled to—she is rambling now—she cries a great deal—I remember my mother—she was in a strange way in her mind at times the birth of Elizabeth was the first of it, in 1824 or 1825—the prisoner's age is 41, and I am 54—I have heard that when the prisoner was born my mother was in a deranged state of mind; but I believe she was harmless and therefore my father kept her at home—I am well acquainted with my mother's three married sisters, Ann Drury, Sarah Martin, and Jane Serjeant—they suffer more or loss at times from deranged minds—Ann Drury died a lunatic, not in an asylum but in the union—the prisoner's two cousins, the daughters of Ann Drury and Jane Serjeant, were also insane—Mary Ann Drury, that is Mr. Drury's daughter, was confined in Hayward's Heath Asylum and afterwards died there; and Susan Serjeant, the daughter of Ann Serjeant, although harmless, is a lunatic—she is living at Eastbourne.
Cross-examined. I was not living in the house with the prisoner when this occurred—I last saw him about two years ago.
WILLIAM BRADSHAW . I live at 56, Cottage Grove, Stockwell, and am messenger to the Metropolitan Board of Works—I am the husband of the prisoner's sister, Susan—I have known him more than 20 years—I remember his entering Mr. Lethbridge's service as coachman about thirteen years ago—he continued there up to twelve months back—T have frequently been in the company of his wife and children and himself—he was a kind husband and affectionate father—this little girl was his favourite pet child—he was very fond of all his children, but he made a special favouriteof this one—he has five—his health was failing in 1874—he was suffering from what he believed to be consumption—Mr. Lethbridge allowed him 5s. a week after he left him, and got him into the Brompton Hospital, and afterwards he went to Margate; he was sent there by the parish—after staying there two or three months, he appeared worse on his return, moor depressed—on Sunday, 10th October, he came to tea with me with one of his children, but not the one on whom this attempt was made—he was then very desponding—I let him in; he shook hands, and asked me how I was as usual—after he had his tea he suddenly got up, and said "Halloa, William, you must excuse mo for not taking any notice of you when I came in," and he again shook hands with me—I said "Oh, indeed, I never noticed anything about it"—he looked rather wild—I know that he has been in the Consumptive Hospital, Brompton—he coughed a great deal—I know that his sister, Elizabeth, is in a lunatic asylum—I had a certificate from there two or three days ago—his sister was sent by her late master, Mr. Sheepshanks, to stay with me—she had been 24 years in his service, and lie thought it would do her good; that is the one who is wandering about now.
JOHN' CHRISTOPHER LETHBRIDGE . I am a solicitor, of 25, Abingdon Street, Westminster—the prisoner was my coachman thirteen years, and I had every cause to recommend him—more than twelve months' ago his health gave way, but 1 kept him on—he left my service last December, having had a dreadful cough for two months, but I kept him in my service, feeling that his health was such that when he was obliged to leave me he would be unable to obtain another situation, and when he left I allowed him 5s. a week—I afterwards got him into the Brompton Hospital, where he was for three months, growing worse instead of better—I consider him a kindhearted man, affectionate, and very fond of children—I had my grandchildren visiting me—there is nothing morose in his disposition.
NOT GUILTY . being insane— To be detained till Her Majesty's pleasure be known
52. WILLIAM TURNER was again indicted for feloniously breaking and entering the counting-house of our Lady the Queen, and stealing therein one pen-maker, a clock, and a pencil, the goods of Thomas Coming, and a pair of spectacles and a pen-knife of Plomer Allway.
THOMAS CUMING . I am a Major La the Royal Artillery, stationed at Woolwich, No. 7 Battery—I recognise this pen-maker as belonging to the battery, the pencil I can't swear to; the pencil-case I can identify; the clock I recognise by its appearance, not by any private mark—to the best of my knowledge it is a clock that was always hanging up in the office—these things were safe on the morning of 28th October, and on the 29th they were reported to me as stolen.
PLOMER ALLWAY . I am a pay-sergeant of the Depot Brigade, Royal Artillery, under Major Coming—in the course of my duty on 28th October, I locked up the rooms on the ground floor of the Royal Artillery barracks, about 6 o'clock in the evening—there are three windows to the room; two were fastened, and one left unfastened; it was possible to open that window from the top outside; there would then be a space large enough to admit the body of a man—at the time I left there was a pencil, a pair of spectacles, and a pen-maker there belonging to me, also a clock locked up in a cupboard—I returned to the room between 7 and 8 next morning, and found the things gone—my desk had been prised open, and the cupboard padlock wrenched off, and there was dirt on the window sill, as if from boots.
WILLIAM BLOOM (Policeman, Woolwich Dockyard). About 8.55 on the evening of 28th October, I received the prisoner into custody on another charge—on searching him I found this knife, spectacle case, pencil, quill maker, and money bag.
DAVID SMITH (Policeman). At 12.5 in the morning of 29th October I was on duty in the Station Road, Woolwich, and my attention was attracted by a clock ticking in the street—I searched and found this clock just inside the railings in front of Cambridge Terrace, about 20 yards from the Dockyard railway station: nearly opposite.
Prisoner's Defence. I am quite innocent of this charge; I found the things in a bag.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
ELIZABETH MASON . I am nine years of age, and live at 60, Hale Street, St. George's Road—on Saturday, 6th November, I was in St. George's Road—the prisoner asked me to go and get him half a quartern of gin at the Princess of Wales; he gave me a two-shilling piece—I went and gave it to the barmaid, and she went into the parlour and gave it to the landlord—he came out with me—I saw the prisoner on the other side of the road—he came across and held out his hand for the money—I told the landlord he was the man.
Cross-examined. It was dark at the time—I had never seen the man before.
ALICE COBB . I am barmaid at the Princess of Wales—on 6th November, the last witness came there about 7 o'clock—she gave me a bad two-shilling piece—I gave it to the landlord, and he went out with the little girl.
GEORGE WILLIAMS (Policeman L 186). The prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. May—I received this counterfeit florin from him—the prisoner said "Oh, take the change; I am a hard working man; I know nothing about it"—I found on him two two-shilling pieces, one shilling, four six-pences, and one penny, all good.
ELIZABETH MAY . I am the wife of William May—On 6th November Alice Cobb gave me a bad two-shilling piece—I gave it to my husband—I did not mark it—I am sure it was bad—we had just taken two others before this, which made me look at it.
WILLIAM GREEN . On 3rd November, about 9.45 in the evening I was in Union Street, Lambeth Walk—the prisoner came up to me and said "Cockey, will you go across the road and get half a quartern of rum in a bottle?"—I said "Yes sir" he gave me a 2s. bit—when I had got a few yards I tried it in my mouth and went over to Mr. Cotsford, the greengrocer's, to ask if it was good—Mr. Cotsford came to the corner with me, and the prisoner came across the road and said "What's the matter"—Mr. Cotsford said "Some man has given him a bad 2s. bit to get change"—the prisoner said "Oh! my, what a shame"—He said "had he a long coat on?"—I said "No; he had a coat on like yours"—he said "He had a high hat on?"—I said "No"—he said "I saw the man run like b----"I went to look for a policeman; I could not find one, and when I came back the prisoner was gone.
Cross-examined. I was coming along with a basket on my head when the man spoke to me—I had never seen him before—I gave the florin to the constable.
GODFREY COTSFORD . I am a greengrocer of 5, Union Street, Kennington Road—On 3rd November the last witness came to my shop—my wife was standing at the door—he showed her a two-shilling piece—I saw it and went with the boy to the corner of Union Street—the prisoner came across and asked what was the matter—I said "Some man had given the boy a two-shilling piece to go for an errand"—he said "What a shame; he ought
to be locked up for it; I saw him run across there"—I spoke to the boy and came away; I then went back again and the prisoner was gone.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
54. JOSEPH NORRIE (18) and JOHN JOSEPH NORRIE (42), PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for stealing chisels, spoons, locks, and other articles of Alan Gordon and others, the masters of Joseph Norrie.
JOSEPH NORRIE— Twelve Months' Imprisonment J.J. NORRIE— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before MR. BARON Huddleston.
MR. R. N. PHILIPS contacted Prosecution; and MR. A. METCALFE
HENRY READ . I am an agent and sell goods for John Lewis—I live in Kent Street in the Borough—I was in. Covent Garden Market about 6 o'clock on the morning of the 23rd October last—I had a barrow there with six brooms on it—I left it for a few minutes, and when I came back the brooms were gone—about 5 o'clock the same evening I saw the brooms in Kent Street outside a coffee shop—the two prisoners were in the coffee shop—two policemen came up and took them into custody; I put the brooms on the barrow and went with the policemen to the station-house—Archer, by what I could hear, said he bought them off a carrottyheaded boy for eighteen pence, and that he had given Hickson the money to pay for them—the value of the brushes was 3s. 9d.
Cross-examined. The brooms were lying open outside the coffee-house, and anybody might have seen them.
SAMUEL ROBINSON (Policeman M 235). In consequence of what the last witness said to me, I went with him on the 23rd ult., to a coffee-house in Kent Street—the two prisoner's were there—he said tome "These two men have stolen my brooms; I shall give them into custody"—I said to the prisoners "You hear what the prosecutor says? I shall take you into custody for having them in your possession"—Archer said "I bought them off a carrotty-headed boy in the Covent Garden Market, this morning"—he was remanded; I tried to find the carroty-headed boy, but there was no such boy known—at the time Archer was being charged he said to Hickson "You know Hickson, I gave you money to pay for the brooms"—Hickson retorted "I did not buy the brooms because I had no money, and I know nothing about them."
Cross-examined. Hickson was admitted to bail after his commitment—I did not see the brooms outside the coffee-house, but I saw them in Read's hands.
Archer's Statement before the Magistrate: "I ought to have had two witnesses here, one named Broadway, who lives at the same house as me to prove that I was not out of bed before 7 o'clock that morning; I forget the other's name, she lives in the same house. "Heckson says: "About 5.30, on Saturday night, I went up to Solomon's coffee-shop, in Kent Street, to get a cup of coffee; Archer came in afterwards and told me that he had bought half a dozen brooms of a carrotty-haired boy; while he was drinking some tea Head looked in and said "Whose are these brooms?" Archer replied 'They are my brooms; I bought them.' Whilst Archer was rowing outside with Read, I went out and down the street; I told the constable that Archer said that he had bought the brooms, and that I had nothing to do with it.'"
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
58. LEON VAN CUSTEM (23), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a watch, value 53l., the property of Michael Riego, and to attempting unlawfully to obtain another watch, of the value of 80l, of and from Michael Riego, with intent to defraud— Twelve Months' Imprsionment.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JANUARY 10TH, 1876.