CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
THIRD SESSION, HELD JANUARY 8TH, 1877.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED, BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS & SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTIES OF MIDDLESEX, BERKSHIRE, ESSEX, HERTFORDSHIRE, KENT, SURREY, AND SUSSEX, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Pursuant to an Order in Council of 23rd October, 1876, issued under the Winter Assize Act,
Held on Monday, January 8th, 1877, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR THOMAS WHITE , KNT., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justices of the High Court of Justice, Exchequer Division; the Hon. Sir NATHAN LINDLEY , Knt., one other of the Justices of the High Court of Justice, Common Pleas Division; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart., M.P., Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., Sir ANDREW LUSK , Bart. M.P., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Esq., one other of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., Judge of the 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.
WILLIAM QUARTERMAINE EAST, Esq.,
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
WHITE, MAYOR. THIRD SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, January 8th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
150. ALICIA SMYTH (28) , PLEADED GUILTY to five indictments for feloniously forging and uttering a mortgage deed, and the endorsements upon several bills of exchange, with intent to defraud. Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutors— Ten Months' Imprisonment.
THE SOLICITOR-GENERAL, with MESSRS. BESLEY and J.P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MESSERS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and STRAIGHT the Defence.
JAMES STARTON BUCK . I was managing clerk to Mr. Peacock, of 12, South Square, Gray's Inn—he acted as solicitor for Messrs. Bangs & Co., in an action against the defendant for 111l. 12s.—on 7th December, 1874, I served a writ on the defendant at the corner of a turning near his shop; he was not at his shop, I had endeavoured to serve him there, but could not—after the service of the writ we adjourned to a refreshment-house dose by, Mr. Bangs was with us, and the defendant produced a cheque in Mr. Bangs' presence, and said that he could pay, but as Mr. Bangs had taken the trouble to institute proceedings against him he should not think of doing so, and he might get the money as best he could—I could not see the amount of the cheque, but I am given to understand that it was for 300l.; he did not say so—the proceedings were continued down to judgment—this is the judgment paper. (Dated 25th January, 1874, for 117l. 10s. including costs.) We continued to act after the judgment, but nothing was received under it.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. The conversation took place at a public-house, at the corner of Tudor Place, Tottenham Court Road—I saw the cheque, but could not see what the amount was; it was produced from a pocket-book—I saw what purported to be a cheque.
JOSEPH BANGS . I am a builder—I sued Appleby through Mr. Peacock, the solicitor, and was present for the purpose of identifying him—he said "Since you have served the writ, there is no occasion for us to have words, come and have a drop of whiskey"—as we went to the Black Horse, he
pulled out a cheque, which I believe was for 300l., but 1 did not see it—he said that he could pay the account, but he should not, since I had taken action against him—I say that it was for a large sum, because I know that he was selling the Tottenham Court house.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I have received no indemnity from the solicitor to the trustee that it should not cost me anything; nothing of the kind—there is a paper in existence, but it is not an indemnity—I sup pose it is in the hands of Mr. Leatherdale, the trustee, who is a witness—I have not signed it.
WILLIAM CORDAY HERRING . I assist my father, a wholesale druggist—I was one of the committee of inspection of Appleby's estate; he was indebted to my father 69l. 5s.—a debtor summons was served on 17th November, 1874, in the Bankruptcy Court—we had instructed Mr. Piesse, a solicitor, to take proceedings—I was in Paris in November, 1874, and met Appleby there, in the smoking room of the Hotel de Lisle et d'Albion, some friends of mine were drinking and smoking there—the prisoner said that he knew our people—I said that we were seeing a party named Appleby, he said that that was his uncle who had got into a difficulty with a money lender—I cautioned him that he should advise his uncle to get out of the hands of the money lenders; he said that he was going home next day and should look into the matter—that was between the 20th and 30th November, and I can prove by a friend of mine that the prisoner had plenty of money in his possession—I did not know at that time that he was the actual debtor to my father.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. He did not tell me that he was at Paris on his bridal tour, but I knew he was there with his wife—I am one of the committee of inspection—the trustee has received about 600l., the statement of accounts will show—I have seen a man named Budget, but not very frequently—I have made an agreement with him, which is in writing—I never had any conversation with Budget about an indemnity, the document was sent on and I signed it—the trustee has paid Budgets certain sum, and I objected to his paying any more—I was not present—I am not liable for the costs of this prosecution in any way—I received a subpoena—Budget was a witness at the police-court, but I cannot tell you whether he was called—about 70l. was paid to him out of the estate upon the agreement, but I cannot swear to any positive amount. (The agreement was here put in, dated 29th January, 1875, and signed William Corday Herring, authorising Mr. H. Leatherdale to make such arrangements as he might think fit to obtain the necessary information, and to sift all matters relating to the estate, and to offer a commission of 20 per cent for any information obtained.) Under that arrangement the 70l. was paid out of the estate—the Judge in Chancery objected to his evidence on tie trial—we recovered about 600l., and he had 70l. of it for obtaining information, which I objected to.
Re-examined. It was 20 per cent. Up on property actually recovered to the estate which has been paid to him.
RICHARD SPARKES . I am a clerk in the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of proceedings in the bankruptcy of Henry Appleby; there are four volumes—the petition is dated November 28th, 1874—I find here a certificate of Mr. Henry Leatherdale as trustee of the estate, on 14th January, 1875; a statement of affairs signed by the bankrupt, and filed on 4th March, 1875; and the adjudication of bankruptcy, dated 18th December,
1874—the total debts are 595l. 3s. 11d.; unsecured creditors, 645l. 3s. 11d.; creditors fully secured, 800l.; assets, 35l.; book debts and other assets, 442l. (The name of Collins was not mentioned among the book debts.) I find in volume 3, a schedule headed "Furniture," dated 13th March, 1875; and in the volume I had before here is the bankrupt's examination taken on 10th March.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Messrs. Miller & Miller, of Sherborne Lane, are the solicitors conducting the prosecution—I attended the examinations at Bow Street, there were pretty well twenty—the trustee was represented by two counsel, I think, but I cannot say whether they were present every time, Mr. Besley and Mr. Grain were there, I believe. (Among the bills of exchange was I O U of Budget for 250l.) I was not present at the cross-examinations in Bankruptcy—it does not appear how many days were spent before the Registrar.
GEORGE BLAGRAVE SNELL . I am one of the official short-hand writers to the Bankruptcy Court—I attended there on 13th March, when the prisoner was examined, and took notes of his examination, which I have transcribed accurately, and my transcript is on the file—I also attended on 16th March, and after being sworn took the short-hand notes and transcribed them accurately—they are also in Court—the bankrupt was examined in open Court before Mr. Spring-Rice, and not in a private room. (The bankrupt's examination of 13th March, from Question 743, and of 16th March, from Question 2,326, were then read.)
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. These (produced) are my notes of the different days I attended, and' I find eight—the bankrupt was not under examination during the whole of those eight days, there were other witnesses—those were the days on which the case was on—I think there were two appeals.
DAVID WILLIAM COLLINS . I am a clerk to a solicitor—I knew the prisoner some time previous to November, 1874—he had lent me 10l. and shortly afterwards 90l., making 100l., I gave him this promissory note produced. (This was for 100l., payable by instalments at fixed dates, with 6 per cent interest, and several receipts of payments were endorsed upon it, signed H. A.) Those payments were made by me at the dates they purport to be, or within a day or two—about 1st January, 1875, Appleby called again to say that I was not to pay Mr. Budget any money that I owed him—I said "Of course I should not without your authority, but an instalment is due and you can have it"—I do not believe I was then aware that he had been adjudicated a bankrupt, as I had not seen Appleby or Budget for some time previous—shortly after that I saw Appleby again, and he said "There will be no occasion for you to pay that money to anybody but me," but it was not then payable—I said that if I was not applied to by anybody else I should be prepared to pay him—I think he said "I will send you back the note," I am not sure, but he did send it back; I was in very bad health at the time and my recollection of the matter is very imperfect—I do not think he gave me any reason for sending it back, it was not in a letter, but simply in an envelope with his regards—I did not keep it—I subsequently received these letters produced from him—the first is dated January, 1875, but it should be 1876, I received it January, 1876. (This was from the defendant to the witness
stating that if he could get a little money he should be able to rehabilitate him self and requesting the witness to repay him as he, the prisoner, had once helped him; and there were two other letters to the same effect.) I sent a reply which is written on the back of one of those letters—I was at Brighton in August, 1875, after a severe domestic affliction—I had been very ill and my employee gave me a few days' leave—a letter was forwarded to me, asking me for the payment of 90l. due to Appleby—I sent it to Appleby by Up stone, who came down to Brighton—I saw Appleby afterwards and heard from him that he had received my message, he said that he had told the trustee that I owed no money and I should hear no more about it, if I went to the trustee and told him so also—I told him I could not do anything of that kind, and that he had been very foolish in not consulting me in the first instance some day afterwards he came to me and said that the trustee would be satisfied if I would produce the receipts for the amounts I had paid—I said that that would not help him because they were only for 60l.—he said that be could get over that by giving me the receipts—I said "I cannot take them, I have not paid you the money, and if I produce those receipts, I must say I have paid you the money," and I cannot do that—he said "Will you give me the receipts to produce as from you"—I said "Certainly not, that would be as bad," and I told him I could not have anything to do with it, I could not be a party to it; I never possessed more than six receipts, the money was paid, but some of the dates are within a day or two—in July 1875, the prisoner told me that he had passed his examination in bankruptcy, and nothing had been said about my debt and that I might in safety pay him—he came to me two or three times and I declined to pay him as I could not afford to pay twice and I wanted to know that I should be safe in paying him before I did so; he got angry and said that I wanted to chaff him, and we parted—in June or July I was summonsed to the Bankruptcy Court, and disclosed to the trustee the true state of the facts, that I still owed 40l.—I never answered the other letters, the course of the bankruptcy prevented that—I then made a true statement of what I owed, and have since paid it.
Cross-examined. I was on very intimate terms with him when I borrowed the money—I was very much in want of money and he learned that from a mutual friend—I was not so much pressed, but it was a great convenience to pay off small creditors and have only one instead of many—I only gave him that note as security; he allowed me to pay by instalments to suit my convenience—he did not want me to fix any time, but I wanted to get rid of the liability—I looked upon it as a great act of kindness—I had not paid Budget money on his account—Budget had lent me some money eighteen months afterwards on account of a domestic affliction—I was short of tie money to pay for my father's funeral, and Budget lent it to me—I do not know when the prisoner was married; it was in 1874, and my impression was that it was in August—I have his statement in his letters in 1876 that he was in great want of money—I was told that he was deceiving me, and those letters very much upset me—I had no money to lend him in return for his kindness to me, and I could not pay him because he was bankrupt; had I been in a position to lend or give him money I should have done so.
Re-examined. Budget had lent me some money to help me in my his—tress—he lost his wife and came to me for money, and two or three weeks afterwards Appleby called on me and said "I do not want you to pay
Budget any money"—I said "I don't mean to"—he said "There is that 11l—he said "I don't mean that"—after the receipt of the prisoner's letters I spoke to a friend of mine and the result was that the prisoner was deceiving me, that they were not honest letters.
HENRY ORFORD . I am a carman of Rupert Street, Leicester Square—by the direction of Messrs. Bonham, the auctioneers, I removed some furniture from Budget, Esquire's, 260, Tottenham Court Road, to the sale-rooms—the van was ordered for 7 a.m., and two extra vans—that was done on Wednesday, November 18th, 1874—there were two extra men and two van loads, nine hours.
Cross-examined. The order was forwarded to me by Messrs. Bonham.
GEORGE WASHINGTON BONHAM . I am an auctioneer of 3, Princes Street; Leicester Square, in partnership with my mother—in November, 1874, I gave an order to remove some furniture from 260, Tottenham Court Road, to our sale-rooms, and it was brought to our place and lotted for sale on 26th and 27th November—they formed thirty-three lots from 265 to 288 inclusive; lot 285 was a pianoforte, and 286 was a music stool—I do not bow whether there was an harmonium—the gross amount realised was 115l. 7s.—the pianoforte and music stool were booked to Budget for 36l. 15s., and they were removed from my rooms—the balance was paid to Mr. Budget—I did not see the prisoner in the transaction.
Cross-examined. The whole proceedings were with Budget, and the money was paid to him—I cannot say whether the prisoner was in Paris at the time.
JOHN VIGERS . I am employed by Mr. Oxford, the carman—in November, 1874, I went to, I believe, 260, Tottenham Court Road, and—took some furniture from there to Mr. Bonham's—I saw a fair gentleman and a dark gentleman while I was loading the furniture, but I don't think I saw the prisoner.
ELIJAH CROUCHER . I carry on business at 38, Southampton Buildings—in January, 1876, the prisoner applied to me to purchase a piano, a harp, and an harmonium—I went with him to Brixton to see the pianoforte, and then to Magdala Terrace, Dulwich, where I saw an harmonium and a harp those three articles were afterwards delivered at my place, and next day the prisoner came there and I gave him 20l.—it was an absolute purchase Mr. Leatherdale, the trustee, brought an action against me, and I gave up the goods after I found that I had no proper right to hold them.
JOHN ALLEN MURRAY . I am a merchant's clerk and a relation of the prisoner's—I live at 13, Camden Street, Camden Town—in October, 1874, a van-load of furniture was brought to my apartments, enough to furnish two rooms—it was given to me by the prisoner—I had been at Tottenham Court House before the removal; the prisoner lived there—there were five or six rooms besides the shop, but I have not been over all the rooms—I was present when the furniture was removed—Mortimer Street is only the shop; there are two small rooms there belonging to the prisoner which were furnished.
JOHN JAMES CHAMBERS . I am manager to George Attenborough, a pawnbroker, of the Strand—on 14th November, 1874, I received some silver spoons and forks and advanced 50l. on them—this is the entry—they, were pledged by the defendant—it was a small service of silver in a case—it was renewed on 14th January, 1875, when Mrs. Appleby came and paid the interest, and the pledge was renewed—on 26th June, 1875, the interest
again became due, and the prisoner paid it, but I cannot tell how much it was—he renewed it for three months—no further payments were made—I afterwards sold the articles, and I think they realised the principal and interest as near as could be, including the expenses.
Cross-examined. I know that Mrs. Appleby renewed the contract in January, I saw her in the shop; she said that the ticket was lost, and I believe it was—in the case of a lost ticket it is necessary for the person whose name appears upon it to pay the interest himself—if he had sold the ticket it would be useless to anybody else.
Re-examined. In the case of deposits for 50l. it is not necessary to male an affidavit under the Pawnbroker's Act—the ticket would not give any title to the person who possessed it, it would be a deposit note.
JOHN FOSTER REEVES . I am a surveyor—in October, 1874, in cosequence of an advertisement in the "Daily Telegraph," I wrote to 260, Tottenham Court Road, and afterwards went to the premises—"Appleby" was over the door—I saw Budget, and after two or three interviews, I saw Appleby, who told me I could deal with Budget as his representative—I saw Appleby several times, and finally bought the house and the good will for 750l., which I paid partly by bills and partly by cheque—the bills were dated on the day of the completion of the purchase; these are the cheques and bills. (There were four bills, all dated 24th October, 1874, for 50l., 200l., 150l., and 50l.) Those bills and cheques were parted with on the completion of the purchase; I do not know whether the cheque for 100l. was dated forward. (It was dated 10th November, 1874.) I think the bill for 50l. was given after I had got possession. (This was dated 16th November, drawn by H. C. Appleby, for 501., at one month; accepted by J. F. Reves.) The cheque for 150l., on the 17th, was given on that date—that made up the full amount.
THOMAS HENRY CHAMBERS . I am a common law clerk to Pattfison, Rigg, & Gurney, solicitors, of Queen Victoria Street; they brought an action against the defendant in 1874, on behalf of Barron & Squires—the verdict was for the plaintiff, for 68l. 1s. 11d., with costs, with speedy execution—that was on 17th November—execution was levied at 47, Mortimer Street, but the sherriff was in possession, and there was an interpleader.
JOHN HENRY HUMPHREYS . I am managing clerk to Nicholls & Leatherdale, the trustees—I managed the matter of this bankruptcy—the prisoner came to me to represent the trustee in reference to Collins' debt—my attention was called to an account filed by the bankrupt purporting to show the amount of payments made in reference to Collins's debt—I do not think I made any inquiry of Appleby in reference to those payments; he made a statement; I had written to him previously—he showed me ten papers purporting to be receipts; I think it was 10l. per month payments—I have the account-book here, and I find in December, 1876, 10l. returned from Collins's loan; 10l. in January, 10l. in March, 10l. in April, 10l. in May, 10l. in June, 10l. in July, 10l. in August, and 10l. in September.
Cross-examined. I did not take an active part in the prosecution, but as managing clerk, all the matters come before me—I never telegraphed to Brown, but I have had several interviews with him—no telegram was sent him with my knowledge—I have seen him all through the proceedings; I first saw Brown, in reference to these proceedings, as far back as January,
1874—I first saw him in reference to the bankruptcy when I went to put the man in possession in Mortimer Street under the bankruptcy, and he was there.
HENRY LEATHERDALE . I am the trustee under the bankruptcy—I know nothing of the removal of this furniture or its sale by Messrs. Bonham, nor of the pledging at Mr. Attenborough's of the plate, or of the furniture given to Murray—I have never received the proceeds of the bills given on 16th and 17th November.
Cross-examined. I was a party to the offer to Budget in 1870; I did not know that he was entered as a debtor for 200l.—I am informed of it now—I have given no indemnity for the costs of this prosecution; Messrs. Miller are my ordinary solicitors, but I was dealing with many solicitors—the estate book will show what I have received; I think it is about 600l.—I have paid no dividend to the creditors.
Re-examined. The committee of creditors approved of the proceedings before they were taken.
GUILTY on the First and Fourth Counts — Nine Months' Imprisonment' (See page 283.)
152. FRANCIS HURT (40) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 50 yards of cloth and other articles, of George William Dibben and another, his masters, who strongly recommended him to mercy— Eight Months' Imprisonment.
153. CHARLES PEARSON YORSTON (40) , to embezzling an order for 6l. 11s., of Lewis Emanuel and another, and feloniously forging and uttering an indorsoment upon the same— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
154. JAMES SMITH (28) , to stealing a basket and 100 dead fish, of John Last Layer, having been convicted of felony at Newington in June, 1870**— One Month's Imprisonment, his former sentence not having expired. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS BARTLEY . I live at 19, Charles Street, Cavendish Square—I remember the prisoner in the name of Martha Bedford, at Hill Street, Walworth, nineteen or twenty years ago; she was not married then—I was present at Twickenham parish church, in 1857, when she was married to Edgar Newton—I was one of the witnesses—she was lodging with me at the time, off and on—I only knew Newton by his visiting her at my lodgings; he was an engineer—I lost sight of him and I understand that he got into trouble and was sent to penal servitude for forgery, the same year as the marriage, I believe—I was present at the parish church of Mortlake, on 21st May, 1871, when the prisoner was married to Charles Wood—I saw her before the second marriage and she told me that she had not seen her husband for fifteen years, and had not heard of him for four years.
CATHERINE BARTLEY . I am the wife of the last witness—I remember the prisoner being married and her husband being sent away for forgery—I remember his coming back from serving his time, and I saw him once, that was about five years ago—I saw the prisoner after her husband came back and told her that I had seen him—he called to see me and said that he would call again, but he never did—he said nothing to me about her—I was at the church at the second marriage, but not as a witness—I saw
Newton after that and I told him I thought he was dead as Mrs. Newton had not seen him for four years—I have heard Newton say that the prisoner was no wife of his as he had a wife and children of his own.
By THE COURT. When I saw him five years ago it was after the second marriage in 1871—I cannot tell you the year or the time—I also saw him soon after he came home from Australia; he was away ten years—it was some time between 1867 and 1871.
THOMAS ROOTS (Detective Sergeant). On 19th December I took the prisoner at Willoughby Villa, Upper Norwood—I told her the charge, she said that Newton was married before he married her, that she had seen him three times since the marriage, but that it had never been consummated—I produce certified copies of two marriage certificates, one dated 25th May, 1857, and the other 20th May, 1871, on which date the prisoner is described as a widow.
By THE COURT. The case came to us from a lady writing to the Commissioner, stating that the prisoner was a bigamist and a public impostor and pressing me to find the witnesses.
CHARLES WOOD . I am a professor of music, of 14, Great Quebec Street—I married the prisoner on 20th May, 1871, at Marylebone Church, but did not cohabit with her—we made appointments to meet each other—on 15th or 16th May, 1872, she came across from the Metropolitan station in great excitement and said "That fellow Newton is following me, I cannot stay"—I said "You mentioned the name of Newton, that is your own name, and I understood you were a widow"—she said "I considered myself a widow, but I have had an interview with Newton and he tells me he was married before he married me"—I then ceased to meet her—I endeavoured to save money to get a divorce, but found it impossible, and a detective came to me with the certificate—I made no communication to the police—the prisoner represented herself to me as a widow, and to a friend of mine also.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You wrote me letters importuning me to help you, which I did; but since 1873 I did not hear of you, and then you asked me to lend you some money, and you gave me an I O U for it.
JOHN H. BEECHEY . I am an attendant at the Registrar-General's Office, Somerset House—I have searched the marriage registers, from May, 1867, back to 1837, and find no trace of the marriage of Edgar Newton, the name does not occur once.
Prisoner's Defence. Before I married this gentleman I explained very clearly what position I was in. He said that he had a wife living, but he was not going to criminate himself. I do not think Mr. Wood is the actual prosecutor, he always said that he would never appear against me. I did not take his name or make the marriage known.
The Prisoner also handed in a written statement to the same effect.
GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury — One Day's Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Monday, January 8th, 1877.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
The facts of this case are fully reported in the last Sessions Paper in the case of Conway and others, p. 222, when the same witnesses were examined both for the prosecution and defence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, January 9th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
158. HENRY APPLEBY was again indicted (See page 275), for unlawfully preventing the introduction of certain documents relating to his bankruptcy. Other Counts—for making false documents and concealing the true state of his affairs. And JAMES BROWN unlawfully aiding and abetting him in the commission of the said misdemeanors. Other Counts, charging both defendants with conspiring with one Budget, with a like intent.
THE SOLICITOR-GENERAL with MESSRS. BESLEY and J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS appeared for Appleby, and MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE with MR. STRAIGHT for Brown.
RICHARD SPARKES . I am a clerk in the Record Department of the Bankruptcy Court, London—I produce the file of proceedings relating to the bankruptcy of Henry Appleby; they are in 4 volumes—the petition of the creditor is dated 28th November, 1874—the petitioning creditors are Joseph and Herbert Bangs—the adjudication is dated 18th December, 1874—the appointment of Mr. Leatherdale as a trustee, is 14th January, 1875—a statement of affairs was filed on 4th March, 1875—on the liability side of the balance sheet, the unsecured creditors are stated at 645l. 3s. 11d.; secured creditors, 800l.; 950l. is given as the value of the security; there is a credit of 150l., leaving a total of 950l. 19s. 11d.—Mr. Joseph Brown is put down as the secured creditor on sheet B: "Mr. Joseph Brown, mortgage of lease of part of premises, a bill of sale on stock, fixtures, and furniture on premises 47, Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square, estimated value of security 950l., amount of debt 800l."—on the asset side of the account the stock in trade is in blank; under the head of "book debts," it is estimated to produce 27l.; cash in hand, blank; bills of exchange, 265l.; furniture, fixtures, and fittings, blank; property as per list G, blank; the 150l. surplus is brought in again on that side of the account; the total assets are put down as 442l.—under letter J, the items of 265l. in the balance sheet as assets refers to an acceptance of A. E. S. Budget, of 182, Stamford Street, and an I O U for 250l. and 15l.,. making the 265l.—there are two examinations of the bankrupt, and one of Brown—there is a cash account filed on 23rd June, 1875, also a paper headed "Statement of account," represented by cheque, counterfoils, bankers pass-books and bills in the matter of Appleby," in a lady's handwriting—this is an office copy—there is an entry of October 1st, 50l., but that is struck off, disallowed by the Registrar.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I cannot tell by whom these alterations were made; I merely produce the papers—certain sums have been disallowed—I believe this account has been carried out after the appeal to the Lords Justices.
Re-examined. There is an affidavit of Joseph Brown, filed on 18th February, 1875. (This was in substance a denial of the allegations made by
Budget in his affidavit) THE SOLICITOR-GENERAL proposed to read Budget affidavit on the ground, that it was a written statement brought to Brown's attention, which Brown purported in part to deny; there was no value attaching to the fact of its being an affidavit, it must be regarded as a mere letter or conversation, and on that ground he tendered it as evidence. MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE objected, it contained a vast number of other matters than those referred to in Brown's affidavit, in which Budget gave his own account of transactions in which he was deeply implicated, throwing the onus of whatever guilt there might be on others. He contended that the fad of its being an affidavit used in the course of legal proceedings was an important element of objection, as it would not admit of contradiction or cross-examination at the time it was used, and it was therefore deprived of the protection which would be accorded to a mere statement; he had never before heard a matter of this kind contended for, and he submitted that it was not evidence. The Recorder. "I really cannot distinguish this from an ordinary case of a letter which is brought to the knowledge of a person who has read and considered it, and who deals with particular parts of it. As to those particular parts, it is quite clear they could not be excluded, and I do not see how one part can be excluded and the other part admitted. I think the whole must be admitted, at the same time the Jury must be told that they are not to take it as evidence of facts stated which are not dealt with by the defendant." I have the original affidavit sworn on 30th January, 1875, and 16th February. (The affidavit of 30th January was read, also that of 16th February by consent; in substance they charged the defendants with concocting papers in order to make the debt due to Brown much larger than it was, and with using certain old stamps for the purpose of carrying out the fraud.)
GEORGE BLAGRAVE SNELL . I am one of the shorthand writers to the Court of Bankruptcy—on 16th March, 1875, I took shorthand notes of the examination of the defendant Brown—I made a transcript, which is on the file. (This was put in and read at length)
GEORGE EDWARD MEAD . I am a solicitor, of 5, Jermyn Street, St. James's—Mr. James Passmore, chemist, of 82, King's Road, Chelsea, is a client of mine—on 26th November he came to me about purchasings business—he came a second time with a letter—on 27th November Budget and Brown called together at my office; they had previously made an appointment—Brown produced the lease of the premises—47, Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square, also an assignment on parchment of one Griffith to Appleby—they are not here, they were either left at the police-court or they are at my office; if they are there I can fetch them—Brown did not produce a memorandum of deposit of the bill of sale; he told me that he had a memorandum of deposit; I did not ask him to produce it then, but I did ask him to produce the bill of sale; he said he had it not with him; I asked him why, and he handed me some document which showed me that an interpleader was going on; it was a receipt for money paid into Court—on looking at that I said if there was no difficulty about it, Appleby and Brown could make a title together, but I should want Appleby present—Budgett replied that he would not attend—I said "Then you need not go any further; you need not put my client to any further expense"—I said to Brown if he had a legal mortgage we could have done without Appleby—they then left and I did not expect to see them again that day, because I insisted on Appleby being present to execute any deed that might be wanted—I don't think Brown said anything
when I said if he had a legal mortgage we could have done without Appleby—Budget assured me, in Brown's presence, that there was no chance of Appleby being bankrupt, and it was that which brought up my remark that in that case we could take a title from Brown without Appleby—I asked how much was owing; I don't recollect what Brown said, but it was at least 100l. more than Passmore was to have given—later in the day, about 3 o'clock, Brown and Budgett came—to my office, quite contrary to my expectation, and brought the bill of sale—Passmore was with me in my private office, and I went to them in the clerks' office, where Brown handed me this bill of sale, dated 2nd July, 1874, that was the date outside, I did not look within—I took it into my private office and was proceeding to make some extracts when my clerk brought in a message that Brown wanted to see me—I then went into the clerks' office to Brown and he said he could not wait any longer, and he did not intend me to make extracts from it; I said "Then if you will not allow me to do it, you must send me an abstract in the usual way," and I gave him the bill of sale back—he said he was trying to oblige me—I said I supposed he was wanting to sell the place; he said he did not care about it; I said if it went on he must send me the abstract in the usual way—at that time no other document than the bill of sale was produced—on 4th December Budget left the bill of sale in my absence, and on 5th December Brown called alone, he then said that he had a legal mortgage—I said I should proceed no further with the business until I had a copy of both legal and equitable mortgages—he did not say anything to that, he went away, he did not say whether or not he would send them—on 8th December I received a copy of the legal mortgage with two equitable mortgages—these are them, they were either left at the police-court or are at my office—I don't know how they came to me; I know that they did come to my office by the entry in my diary—these (produced) are the documents, copies of which were sent to me. (These three documents were put in and read, the first was dated 27th April, 1874, and was a memorandum of deposit by Appleby to Brown of the lease of 47, Mortimer Street, as security, witnessed by Budget; the second was a legal mortgage, dated November 6th, 1874; and the third dated 1st December, 1874, was a mortgage from Appleby to Brown.) On 5th December I first heard of the legal mortgage—I had never heard of the other two documents—I saw Budget on or about 10th December, and after Borne conversation with him Brown called again; he then inquired how the matter stood; I replied that I had heard of bankruptcy proceedings being taken against Appleby, and that I could not go on any further with it until they were got rid of, that if they were got rid of my client would resume negotiations at some future time if he had not already met with some other business—I don't think I saw him again before 21st December; he then called and told me that Appleby had been adjudicated bankrupt and asked for the copies that he had sent me, which I then returned, having previously had copies made of them—after the bankruptcy I acted for Mr. Passmore in purchasing the business from the trustee—I don't recollect what was given for it; if I have to fetch the other documents I can bring the deed with me—my experience of stamps is not that the document of 6th November is the only paper on which the stamp was impressed on the paper before it was written on that—the documents of 27th April and 1st December had their stamps impressed on them after being written; we know that you may buy impressed stamps,
in fact stationers generally keep them in stock, impressed as this is, unless there has been any recent alteration—it does not follow that this was stamped before it was executed—when I was examined before I thought the red stamp was put on after the paper was written, but I have found since that I am continually sending documents to be stamped, and I find that these pink stamps are put on them before they are executed—up to a certain amount they stamp the documents while the persons wait, and they have a pink stamp similar to this—the date is put on whether the stamp is put on before or after execution, showing the day they are stamped.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I do not keep stamps in my office; I may buy half a dozen sixpenny stamps perhaps; I do not keep any of any amount—I should not think attorneys in London keep stamps; it may be so in the country.
JAMES PASSMORE . I am a chemist and druggist, in King's Road, Chelsea—I know Budget—some time in October I had negotiations through him with regard to a business at 47, Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square—up to the time of my going with Budget to Mr. Mead I had not seen Appleby—I went to Mortimer Street to see the business; I found Budget there—we came to terms, and I arranged the amount I was to pay, 600l.—after arranging the price, I went to Mr. Mead on the 26th or 27th, and found Brown and Budget there—I was in Mr. Mead's private office when he was copying a document; after that interview Budget called on me—I after wards saw Mr. Mead, and subsequently I went to Budget and saw the matter put an end to—after the bankruptcy, the negotiation was resumed; it ended in my buying it of the trustee for 600l., I then received the documents which Mr. Mead will produce.
JAMES JEFFREY . I am a builder; I have known Brown about three years—on 6th November, 1874, I saw him at Peckham Eye, by appointment—I first saw him at the Vivian Hotel—Budget was with him—I complained to Brown of his bringing him; I asked why he brought him—he said that Budget and Appleby had been up to his house in the Brecknock Road to do some business that morning, to pay him some money, and that he had after wards met with him in the Holloway Road, and he could not then get rid of him—Brown had come down for my brother to sign a mortgage—after we left the Vivian Hotel, going down the Eton Road, Budget said to Brown "Now, Mr. Brown, what is it that Appleby owes you, is it not" 120l."—he said "Oh, yes; that's about it, anything you like; you have had your answer"—Budget had some bank notes in his hands, I believe to the amount of 40l. or 50l., I could not say positively, but he had several notes, he was flourishing them about, and Brown snatched them away from him, and handed them to me, and I merely said "Good morning, Mr. Budget" and I put them in my pocket, and ran into the buildings there, just for a lark, for a few minutes—at a later period of the day, I was at Anderton's Hotel with Brown and Budget—Budget again asked him, as he had at Peckham, what the amount was, whether it was not 120l., or what it was that it was owing—Brown replied "You have had your answer to-day already"—while at Peckham, Brown mentioned that Mr. Brain and Mr. Budget had been at variance, but he said he had nothing to say against Appleby and Budget, that they had paid him honourably so far as they had got, or words to that effect—I think Brown said that Appleby and Budget had paid 400l. that morning in bills, not in cash—Budget was the one that mentioned the 120l.—I don't remember being at 66, Ludgate Hill, that
day—I have met Brown and Brain there on several occasions—I remember something about some stamps; I can't tell the date of that, I have no idea—I hare tried repeatedly to remember the date, and I cannot—I have nothing to fix my memory; it was in the year 1874; I could not tell whether it was before or after the execution of the deed by my brother at Peckham Rye—it was within a few weeks—when I came in to 66, Brown and Brain were in the outer office; it is a long room, and they were at the other end in conversation—Brain said, I think "Oh, no; it was nothing particular, sit down"—I sat down inside the door, and I heard some conversation in reference to some old bill stamp, as I thought—I heard some thing, as I understood, about the sheriff or a bailiff being in at Appleby's—it was a broken conversation, but I heard mention of something about an old stamp, about getting the brokers out, or something of that—I said I had an old stamp at home, if it was any use they might have it, it was no use to me; it was one, two, or three years old—I could not give the exact words, it is over two years ago—the first I heard was about the sheriff or broker being in at Appleby's, and something was then said about an old stamp, but I really cannot give the whole conversation; it was a general conversation between Brown and Brain—I believe it was Brain who said something about the old stamp—I am not certain—something was said about an old stamp, about getting them out, or something to that effect—I understood it meant getting the sheriff or the broker out—I don't know how the stamp was to get the sheriff out—I heard Brain say, in reply, "You are all right,. I have an old stamp," or an old bill stamp, or something to that effect, to Mr. Brown, that was after I had offered to let them have the old stamp I had if it was of any service, as it was no use to me—all I know is that I heard a something about their being got out, and the only way they could be got out was by an old stamp or something; I can't say who said that, whether it was Brown or Brain—Brown said that he had made 2l. of one old stamp, that was when I offered my old stamp—Brown thanked me, and said he had got some, and had sold one for 2l.—I heard Appleby's name mentioned, and something about the brokers, I really can't tell you what it was; it was a broken conversation—it was a very long room—I was sitting near the door, and Brown and Brain were at the other end of the room, and since I had a cold, I have been a little deaf—I heard a portion of the conversation; I heard the brokers or sheriff mentioned—I heard nothing else particular that I remember—I don't know that I heard anything more—I. won't pledge myself to it; it does not strike me just at present; if you will ask me anything I will try and remember—I was examined before the Magistrate.
Cross-examined by SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Mr. Budget first communicated with me about the case—he did not tell me that I would be wanted as a witness—I met him one day in Fleet Street—he told me that. Brown had refused to lend him 5l., and he was going to get something warm for him, and that was when I mentioned to him about this affair at Ludgate Hill.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS I knew Budget well—when this conversation about the 120l. occurred Budget was drunk, or, rather drunk, they were very jocular, having a bit of fun, it was not an uncommon thing for Budget to be drunk.
Re-examined. When I met Budget in Fleet Street I had been wating to see him for some time, because Brown told me that Budget had had
something to say against me; to him, and I asked Budget what he had to say to Brown about me—he denied that he had ever said anything, but he said it was the other way, that Brown had been saying some very hard things against me, and then he rapped out with an oath "I will do something for him, I wanted to borrow 5l. or 6l., and the d——scamp said he would not lend me 5d."—he then went on to say he would get up something warm for him in reference to Appleby's matter, and I said "Oh, Mr. Brown does not care for you or me or anyone else"—he said "Oh, I can get up something pretty warm for him, something about some old bill of sale"—I said "Well, I heard some conversation at Ludgate Hill, but I could not give you the whole of it, but I heard something about some old stamp's or bill of sale," and I offered him one, and he slapped his hand on his thigh and said "That is what I want, some confirmatory evidence, will you go with me to Piesse?"—I said "No, I will have nothing to do with it"—he asked me repeatedly, and at last I went with him to Piesse—that was all the conversation I had with him—the stamp I offered him was produced at the Bankruptcy Court after my examination—I made an affidavit in the Bankruptcy Court—I think that was early in 1875, I don't remember the date—I think I have been thirty-three days in this case—I don't quite remember the whole of the conversation about the stamp.
JOHN FOSTER REEVES . I am a surgeon, and live at 46, Great Marlborough Street—in consequence of an advertisement in the "Telegraph "I sent a letter in October, 1874, to 260, Tottenham Court Road, and afterwards went to the premises and found a chemist's business carried on there—the name of Appleby was over the door—I saw Budget there; after two or three days I saw Appleby there, he talked on general business, and said I could deal with Mr. Budget—I negotiated the purchase of the business with Budget, and saw him from time to time on the subject—an arrange was made that I was to buy the business for 750l., the arrangement was finally settled on 24th October, 1874; and this cheque for 50l. was given on that day; on the same day these three bills of exchange were given, one for 50l. at one month, accepted by me at Martin's, my bankers endorsed by Appleby and Budget, and afterwards by Brown; that was paid on maturity, on 27th November—I gave it to Budget—the bills were brought to me ready prepared and I signed them; another bill is for 150l., at three months, accepted and endorsed in the same way, and the other for 250l., at six months—the two last were met by me before maturity, I think in January—they were in Brown's hands when I paid them—I don't remember when I gave this cheque for 100l., dated 10th November; both these are my cheques, dated 10th and 17th November respectively—I forget whether I parted with them at the same time as the acceptances, I have no memorandum, but I think I exchanged them, I think I gave one large cheque and then altered it and gave the two cheques and got back the one—the final payment was made by me on the cheque on 16th November; and on that day I accepted this bill for 50l.—I destroyed the large cheque after I got it back, it was for 300l. or 400l., I forget which—very likely the two cheques for 100l. and 150l. and the bill for 50l. were given in exchange for that large cheque, but I really can't say positively, the lost bill for 50l. I took up on 19th December.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. All the bills were given to Budget—the bill of 16th November was returned from my bankers in consequence of the signature not being my usual signature; I corrected it the same day and that was paid.
JAMES STARTEN BUCK . I am managing clerk to T. F. Peacock, solicitor, of 12, South Square, Gray's Inn, he was acting for Messrs. Bangs, the builders, in the action against Appleby—on 7th November, 1874, I served the writ—I saw Appleby near the premises, Mr. Bangs pointed him out to me, and said "That is the gentleman you have to serve with the writ"—I handed him the writ and asked him if it was correct; he said quite—we then adjourned to a refreshment-house close by at the invitation of Appleby, and had I believe some whiskey and water—when we were there Appleby produced a cheque, similar to one of these, and said "There is the money, he was able to pay, but as Mr. Bangs had been at the trouble to institute proceedings against him he might get the money as best he could—we afterwards proceeded and got the judgment that has been produced.
W. C. Herring repeated his former evidence. (See page 276). Richard Shepherd produced judgment obtained against Appleby for 681.
GEORGE EDWARD MEAD (re-examined). I have now got the deeds; the first is a lease, dated 10th September, 1869, from Mr. Henry Ives to Mr. E. T. S. Griffith, of premises, 47, Mortimer Street; the next is an assignment, dated 27th January. 1873, from Griffith to Appleby, of the lease of the same premises—those are the two documents that were produced to me on 27th November, I have also the assignment from Appleby's trustee since the bankruptcy; this was stamped before it was executed, and it bears a pink stamp.
THOMAS EDWARD CHAMBERS . I am common law clerk to Messrs. Pattison, of Queen Victoria Street—in 1874 I acted on behalf of Barron, Squire, & Co., in recovering judgment against Appleby—Mr. Miller has the record; the defendant pleaded to the declaration in person—the case was tried on 17th November, we got a verdict, and execution on 18th—it was placed in the hands of the Sheriff, and Brown then put in a claim; there were the ordinary interpleader proceedings at chambers on Brown's claim; in the course of it Brown made an affidavit, the interpleader issue was afterwards tried; Brown and Appleby were both examined as witnesses, and the verdict was in favour of Brown's claim, no other witnesses were called—Budget was there, but was not called.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. The interpleader action was defended by Barron, he had two counsel, Mr. Waddy, Q.C., and Mr. Gainford Bruce—Brown was the claimant—the claim was under a bill of sale, it was an ordinary interpleader action—the costs were taxed; we had to pay Brown's costs, and lost our money besides. (The affidavit of Brown was dated 13th January, and stated that the goods and chattles were amongst other things assigned to him by Appleby for a consideration, and that 37l. 5s. was then due to him for principal and interest.)
JAMES COX . I am manager of the London and South Western Bank, limited, Holloway branch—Brown was one of our customers, this is his pass-book, and I have here the waste-book of the bank, it contains the amounts paid by Brown to Appleby: on February 29th, 1874, 90l.; on 2nd. July, 250l.; 5th November, 45l., and on December, 22nd, 5l.—this book does not contain any entry of October, it commences on July, 1875—I know the stamp on this 50l. note, it is our stamp, showing that it has passed through our hands—I can't tell at what date it went out of our bank.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I have known Brown about six years—he has been a customer of ours that time, he kept a very good
account; he very often bad a balance of 2,000l. or 3,000l.—I know that he also kept cash in his house and discounted—I have seen notes and gold at his house in considerable quantities, over 300l. or 400l. very often—that was money that had not been paid in to the bank—I have seen that on many occasions—he has borne the character of a respectable, upright, and honourable man.
CHARLES WELLS . I am a clerk to the Metropolitan Bank, Limited, Corn—hill—Appleby was a customer, this is his pass-book—this 50l. note was paid to his credit on 2nd October, 1874, it is No. 75,987, dated February 6th, 1874—on that same day a bill of 50l. was due, and was taken up in the name of Budget; I don't know by whom it was paid in—the bill was accepted by H. Appleby, payable at our bank, and is endorsed by Budget and Brown; the 50l. was paid in specially to meet the bill—the note bears the endorsement of "H. Appleby, 50l."—that was made by a clerk in the bank.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT—Tuesday, January 9th, 1877.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. J. P. GRAIN the Defence.
FRANCIS FREDERICK DEANE . I am a builder, of Gossett Street, Bethnal Green—I first knew the prisoner about eighteen months ago or a little more, and from time to time discounted bills for him—he represented them—to be all trade bills—I discounted for him these three bills of March 2nd, 14th, and 25th, drawn by him and accepted by Graham—he said that they were trade bills and that the acceptor, Mr. Graham, was an outfitter of Windsor, and a very respectable man—I presented this one which is for 33l. 12s. at the London and County Bank, London, and had it returned; I did not present the others—the prisoner carries on business at Hedge's Grove, South Hackney, his bill heads call him a canteen contractor appointed by Government—I wrote to Mr. Graham and got my letter back in seven or eight days, marked "Not known."
Cross-examined. This is one of my forms, it is headed "Private Loan Office; forms 2d. each"—I am willing to lend money to anybody who pays me good interest—the interest is 8d. in the pound—I have discounted 1,500l. or 2,000l. for the prisoner in the eighteen months, he has taken up all the bills up to this time; he paid regularly, up to 11th August—about a dozen of the bills which were paid regularly were drawn on Graham; they were for from 25l. to 30l., and amounted to 200l. or 300l. with those I have got left—they were all drawn on the same forms and made payable in the same way as these—I know that he has had to file a petition—his solicitor called at my house—I do not think I ever heard the name of Hatch mentioned—I believe my solicitor has proved my debt for these very bills—I was present at a discussion upon the prisoner's affairs, I do not recollect hearing a list of the debtors to his estate read out, nor did I look at it—I did not see the name of Hatch returned as a debtor to a large amount, nor did I hear the name mentioned in reference to the prisoner's affairs—I do not think I have ever discounted for the prisoner a
bill drawn by Hatch, but I will not swear I have not—I do not know perfectly well that I have—I never knew that Hatch had absconded and let the prisoner in for a large amount of money—I have unfortunately seen the prisoner a number of times since—I know Mr. Barron, his solicitor; I have not spoken to him about Hatch absconding—I did not say that Freans, the biscuit people, would prosecute him—I could not see the prisoner after the bills were returned, he absconded; I saw the woman he was cohabiting with at Charlton, and I saw his wife at Eccles Road—I have not offered to take 250l. from his wife directly she gets a legacy under her grandmother's will; but she said to me that if, I would not prosecute her husband, when she got her legacy she would pay me—I dare say I saw her the day after the bills were returned, thinking to see Mr. Taylor; she did not make the offer then, but she did within a few weeks afterwards—I did not take out a warrant till last week, because I left it in the hands of my solicitor—it was not a little bit on account of the expected legacy—I never expected to get a farthing—I do not think I waited so long as seven months—I took the warrant out some time before Christmas—I waited all that time because I did not know where he was—I will swear that it was not because I expected to get my money from Mrs. Taylor—I did not offer to do anything for them and their children, I have six children of my own—the signature to both these cheques produced is the prisoner's—I dare say the acceptances may be in a totally different writing.
Re-examined. I paid the former bills of Graham into the bank, and Taylor would come down in the evening and say "I have had a telegram from my friend and he is rather short, but you shall have the money to-morrow," and it was brought; the prisoner took them up in that way several times—he owes me now 600l. as near as I can guess—I have now a number of bills dishonoured, the acceptors of which I cannot find, such as Elliott of Portsea, and Graham of Windsor, but the greatest number of bills are in the name of Williams—the prisoner lived at Charlton in the name of Williams, but I do not know that of my own knowledge—when I found that the acceptors could not be found I put the matter in the hands of my attorney—I could not find the prisoner at Charlton or at Hedge's Grove—I was not in any way delaying the proceedings for the purpose of a settlement; whatever delay there was was the act of my solicitor.
By THE COURT. They were two months' bills, I do not think there is one longer or shorter, these are them; here is Mr. Woodman's and two—of Mr. Elliott's; all the others are Williams' bills—I dare say I discounted 700l. or 800l. worth of Williams' bills, all that you have got there.
WILLIAM CLEVE . I have been tax collector of Windsor just upon five years—I have the rate books of Windsor and Clewer here for three years and a half—there was no such person as James Graham, an outfitter, there last year.
WILLIAM HEADLEY . I have known the prisoner five or six years in the name of Williams, and have received cheques from him in that name—he lived at 12 or 13, York Cottages, Charlton, with somebody who passed as Mrs. Williams.
Cross-examined. It is a small, petty chandler's shop, they sell sweets and
children's socks and toys—"Williams" only is over the door, it is not H. R. Williams & Co.—the name has been up eight or nine months.
CHARLES HUNT . I am a clerk in the London and County Bank, head office—we had no customer in March last named Graham, of Windsor—I have got the returns from the branches, and produce the bill advice book—we had no advice about that time of any bills from Graham, of Windsor—if a bill had been made payable at our London office we should have received advices.
PATRICK DAVIS (Detective Officer). I took the prisoner on the night of 19th November at 4, Denmark Terrace, New Charlton, where he was living with a woman in the name of Williams, and "Williams" was over the door—he said "I did not think Mr. Deane would do this, as I intended to pay him with some money coming through my wife under her mother's will which will amount to 600l."
MARGARET THEOBALD . I live at 3, Denmark Terrace, Charlton—I have known the prisoner nine years in the name of Mr. Williams, with somebody passing as Mrs. Williams, at 4, Denmark Terrace—I never knew him as Taylor.
MR. GRAIN submitted that there was no evidence that the bills were in the prisoner's writing, and further that if it was shown that they were drawn in an assumed name that must be proved to be done for the purposes of fraud, whereas a long series of bills drawn upon the same person had been paid. THE COURT, as to the first point, allowed Mr. Deane to be re-called, and as to the second, considered that it was for the Jury to say whether the names of nonexisting persons as acceptors, had been assumed for the purposes of fraud.
F. F. DEANE (re-examined). The body of the bills I discounted were always in Taylor's writing, and the signature as drawer was his—I saw him write his name in my officer—I believed that I had a responsible and genuine acceptor—I should not have accepted any of them if I had believed the acceptors to be fictitious persons.
Cross-examined. I had no security, only the bills—I discounted on his credit—as long as things went on straight I made no inquiry about the acceptors.— NOT GUILTY . (See Fourth Court, Friday.)
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, January 9th, 1877.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
161. GEORGE WILLIAMS (41) , to feloniously forging, altering, and uttering an order for the payment of 12l. 8s. and an order for 14l. 6s. 2d. The amount of the defalcations was stated to be over 400l. He received a good character— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD HANSON . I produce two certificates, one received from the clerk at St. Mary's, Islington, and the other from St. James the Great, Bethnal Green; one is dated 1868 and the other 1870—I compared the certificates with the original books and found them correct. (Read).
GEORGE THOMAS JENKINS . I am a cigar seller now, but was a birdcage maker in 1870—I married the prisoner on the 19th of July—she told me her husband died in America—I had known her about three months before I married her—I took her out of the workhouse—I made no inquiry about her.
GUILTY — One Day's Imprisonment.
DAVID PEARSON . I live at 8, Three Foxes' Court, Ratcliffe, and am a shipwright—on the afternoon of the 18th December, I had just come to my own premises with a board on ray shoulder when I saw the prisoner standing; at a public-house door—he came up and struck me with his fist on my face, then he took a stevedore hook from his pocket and struck me across the face with it—my face bled very much—this scar is from the wound; my wife and child were present—the prisoner then went to his own house—I did not strike him—I never challenged him to fight or quarrelled with him—I know him well by sight—the police doctor sewed up the wound.
Cross-examined. It was about a week after when I saw the doctor—I was not drunk—no blood came from the first blow—the disturbance only lasted about a minute and a half.
ELIZA DAY . I am the daughter of the last witness—I was upstairs in the house my father lives in, when this affair took place—I came down and saw English tackling my father, and I saw my father's face bleeding very much—I saw English put the hook in his pocket.
JANE PEARSON . I am the prosecutor's wife—on the 18th December, he was carrying a plank on his shoulder up the court—I saw the prisoner come from the other end of the court and strike him—I pulled my husband away—then the prisoner took a book from his pocket and struck my husband in the face with it and made a wound—there was no one else in the court.
Cross-examined. My husband said "Hold hard a minute"—I stood at the door afterwards about a minute and a half—I afterwards went to the station—my husband went, but not with me—he came back about 5.30.
GEORGE CROCKFORD (Policeman K 494). I took the prisoner into custody at 41, Queen Street, for striking David Pearson with a stevedore hook—he said "I did not strike him with the hook; I struck him with my fist"—I saw the wound; it was a quarter of an inch long, very deep, and was bleeding very much—the surgeon put a silver stitch in it.
Cross-examined. I searched, but did not find the hook.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARY ANN HOLLAND . I live in Three Foxes' Court—I saw the prosecutor and the prisoner fighting in the court, with their fists about 3 o'clock in the afternoon of the 18th December, for about a couple of minutes—I saw no hook, I must have done if there had been one.
Cross-examined. I did not see Elisa Day there till about three minutes afterwards—they both struck one another—I did not see a board on the prosecutor's shoulder.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CROOME conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN GALLTHORPE . I live at 48, North Street, Edgware Road, and am a cabinet maker about 3 o'clock on the afternoon of the 27th December I was walking home and near my door when someone came up, struck me a blow on the chest, knocked me down, and took my watch from my pocket and the chain belonging to it—the watch and chain produced are mine—the chain is not valuable, the value of the watch is 30s.—I caught the man's legs.
JOSEPH WILSON . I am a painter, and live at 23, Richmond Street, Maida Hill—on the 27th December, about 3 o'clock, I was in Salisbury Street, which is near North Street—I saw the prisoner strike the prosecutor and snatch the watch and run away; I followed him—he dropped the watch in North Street, near Princes Mews; I picked it up and the chain—I saw the prisoner go into a loft—I did not lose sight of him—I handed the watch and chain to the constable.
WILLIAM HOPES (Policeman D 166). On the afternoon of the 27th I was on duty near the Edgware Road—I heard the cry of "Stop thief"—I found the prisoner in a loft in Princes Mews—the last witness was with him.
Prisoner's Defence. I was in beer and knew nothing about it till the following day.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. ROLLAND conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MCCOAN and MR. HORACE AVORY the Defence.
EDMUND STEPHENSON . I am a licensed victualler and keep the King's Head, Walworth—in 1875 I had an account for ale with Messrs. Malvin & Co., of Edinburgh—the prisoner was in the habit of calling from time to time for the ale—he called on the 11th of October, 1875—the signature on the cheque produced is mine—it is dated 11th October, 1875, and is in payment of an account for 13l. 15s., and is made payable to Messrs. Malvin & Co.—the National Bank is our bank.
Cross-examined by MR. MCCOAN. I have given similar cheques to the prisoner—I have given cheques to him, payable to himself, for Malvin's—this cheque was made out in the usual way.
JAMES HANNAN . I am manager for Messrs. Malvin & Co., brewers, Edinburgh—the prisoner entered our employment in 1870 in a subordinate position—there was no agreement in writing—he was appointed clerk and manager in 1872—his duties would then be to solicit orders and collect the money—our firm had an account with the Lambeth branch of the National Bank—it was his duty when he collected money to pay it to the credit of the firm into that bank, but if he received a cheque as in the present instance, payable to "Messrs. Malvin & Co. or order" his duty was to send it to the firm—Mr. James Malvin is the only person authorised to endorse cheques—the signature on the cheque produced is the prisoner's—he had no authority to endorse cheques—we suspected there was something wrong at the end of 1875 and called upon the prisoner to make an explanation, and in February, 1876, in consequence of explanations which he made
we arranged to place someone over him—we sent accounts to our customers and as the amount due to us from Mr. Stephenson was not remitted we commenced an action—the trial came on in November last, when Mr. Stephenson produced this cheque endorsed as it now appears—we then took the present proceedings—the prisoner made a statement in February, 1876, of sums he had collected, solemnly declaring them to be all—he afterwards added others, collected by a traveller named Trigg, which he admitted having got, and again solemnly assevrated they were all—we had not ascertained the amounts then, but believed what the prisoner said—he had no authority to endorse cheques—I did not know then he had put the name of the firm to any cheques at the time of the arrangement—we did not know the amount of his defalcations, and we pitied him and thought he had been led astray—had we known all we should have made no arrangement—we found out about the cheques when they were produced at the trial in November—the prisoner has never accounted for the 13l. 15s. in any way.
Cross-examined by MR. MCCOAN. I engaged the prisoner prior to his taking up the management of the London Branch, he had been employed a couple of years in London—I am the acting agent in London; Mr. Malvin has been to London about twice during the prisoner's management, but not specially with reference to the business—he may have had interviews with the prisoner, but I cannot say what took place—the prisoner was told to go on as Mr. Stephens, his predecessor, had done—I do not know that Mr. Stephens endorsed cheques—I have had special power given to me on particular occasions to endorse cheques—the one produced is a guaranteed endorsement—I do not know if the account there (produced), amounting to 1,062l., does not include sums paid in cheques—I have not inquired; it may have done so—I had an interview in Islington with the sister of the prisoner to tell her what had happened—I made no proposal for a settlement, neither did she, and none was come to—I got a bill of exchange from her for 200l.—we had a bill of sale on the furniture, two policies, and other bills amounting to 400l.—we did not discuss the matter—I saw the prisoner write from our office to ask his sister for the bill of exchange; I was no party to it—I accepted it for Messrs. Malvin; it is not yet matured—I did not say to her "There are some further very unpleasant features in the case, your brother has remitted wrong accounts to our head-quarters in Edinburgh, and has falsified his London books and accounts, and done other things," and on her asking what we intended to do, say "We must make the best of it; we have already taken a bill of sale on all bis personal property and effects, and he has assigned life policies for 800l. to the firm, we now, however, require two sureties, each in the sum of 200l., making, a further sum of 400l. in all, as further security required"—I did not say that the prisoner was going about trying to obtain securities, and if obtained further proceedings would be desisted from.
Re-examined. There is not a word of truth in what has just been read to me—we thought the prisoner would have retrieved his position, and so retained him our employment—the cheque produced is payable to Malvin & Co., or order, and was forwarded to Edinburgh; I did not know at the time the prisoner made his statement how the amounts were paid by the customers; we have had to pay the premiums on the life policies.
13l. 15s., was paid into the bank to the account of E. H. Jones—it appears in the pass-book produced—I know the cheque, the endorsements and it bears our stamp—we have an account with "Ellis Hugh Jones"—I have seen it in the ledger; the entries in our books are made from the pass-book which is handed to the customer—Ellis Hugh Jones ceased to bank with us on 10th November.
Cross-examined by MR. MCCOAN. I have no personal knowledge of the prisoner.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN STEPHENS . I am a brewer in Lanark—I formerly managed the business of Messrs. Malvin & Co. in London; in 1872 my management was transferred to the prisoner—I was present and heard some of the conversation, that which related to his pay, but not to the mode in which the prisoner should conduct the business—I understood that the prisoner was to go on as I had been going—it was my custom to pay the cash I received into the London & Westminster Bank, to the credit of Messrs. Malvin's account—I have no recollection of any cheques payable to Malvin, or order—I never endorsed a cheque for Messrs. Malvin & Co.—the cheques I received were made payable to myself, or other travellers; I never forwarded cheques to Edinburgh to be endorsed—we have four or five travellers—I do not recollect ever endorsing cheques, if I did so it would be "Pro procuration."
Cross-examined. I did not consider that I had authority to endorse cheques.
Re-examined by MR. MCCOAN. I may have endorsed cheques, but not in that way.
ELIZABETH JONES . I am the prisoner's sister—I recollect Mr. Hannan calling at our house in Islington on 8th February last—he asked if I had been told of the arrangements that had been come to about my brother's defalcations—I said that I had not heard—he said it was very serious, and the sum was over 1,000l. and that there were other serious offences, such as tearing leaves out of the books—he said also "We have taken a bill of sale on the furniture for 1,000l. and have two life policies for 800l., and he is now going about all to-day to find two sureties in 200l. each, making 400l.," and I asked "Do you mean to say if he obtains these securities there will be no prosecution," and he said "I am justified in saying so;" in the result I gave him a bill of exchange for 200l.—I wrote to Messrs. Malvin on the 10th, saying "I am willing to assist my brother as far as lies in my power, provided the arrangements are satisfactory, meaning the arrangements that Mr. Hannan had told me of, that there would be no prosecution, and that he would be continued in his situation—I afterwards received a telegram from Mr. Hannan, "Send your acceptance for 200l."—I did so and Messrs. Malvin hold it still—I fully understood a general condonation was to be given, and I regarded the matter as settled.
Cross-examined. I have not paid anything, the bills are not due.
GUILTY —He was further charged with having been convicted of felony in August, 1865, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, January 10th, 1877.
Before Mr. Baron Hawkins.
MESSRS. LILLEY and CHARLES MATHEWS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
ELIZA BEER . I am an unfortunate woman, living at 4, Bloomfield Street, Poplar-prior to Tuesday, 19th December last, I had been staying with a man named Francis Allen, a seafaring man—about 1 o'clock that morning I was in bed with Allen, at 14, Bloomfield Street, the prisoner came into the room, he broke open the room door, and the door downstairs as well—I believe he was the worse for drink; Allen was quite sober—the prisoner first struck me as I was in bed—Allen, who was lying against the wall, got up in the bed and said he could not see me struck, and with that the prisoner struck him in the face and pulled him out of bed on to the floor on his back, and struck him several times and fell a-top of him—Allen did not strike him, he had not time to do so; as he fell he must have struck his head on the chamber, I did not see him do so, I was so excitable—there was a lamp on the sideboard in the room—the chamber was on the washing stand by the side of the bedstead, it was quite sound before; the prisoner came in; after the struggle it was broken all to pieces, I did not observe any blood on it—there was blood on Allen's face, he ran down stairs in his shirt, and I got his clothes together and ran down after him in my petticoat—Allen went for the police and brought back two policemen whilst he was gone the prisoner ran downstairs and ran up again into the bed-room and laid there on the floor till the policemen came and took him into custody—he was taken to the station—I told Allen to go to my sister's and I went home—I next saw him lying dead in my sister's passage later that same morning.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about two years—he had been a teetotaller for a year and nine months before this, as far as I know; I have stopped with him now and then—the house in which I was living was taken in his name; he had promised to keep me; he gave me 6s.—I said at the police-court next day that Allen was drunk, I was excitable; he was not drunk, he was quite sober—I said at the police-court that Allen struck the prisoner in the mouth and they struggled together—the case was remanded, and on 30th December I told the Magistrate that I wished to make another statement, and I then said that Allen was quite sober and that he did not strike the prisoner at all—I had been at two public-houses with Allen that night, he had a glass of gin hot at one house, and a share of my glass at the second—he complained of being ill there, and said he felt queer in his heart, and in doors the same, before the prisoner came in—the prisoner had paid the landlord twice, by my giving—I was very excited at the time of this struggle—Allen was pulled out of bed and fell against the wash stand—I heard the noise of the fall and the chamber break—I am sure he was struck several times, and he begged for mercy.
Re-examined. I generally paid the rent myself, when the prisoner paid it I gave him the money—there was not room to put a chair between the,. bed and the wash stand—Allen was pulled out of bed over me; he had no opportunity of getting on his legs afterwards, there was only one other lodger in the house; I received the rent from her—the prisoner had no right to come to me, except as an ordinary visitor—the street door was shut, and my room door was locked, and he burst them both open—Allen had been at home from sea three weeks—I had known him five years, and
had been with him on and off after each voyage—I had also been on and off with the prisoner, the same as any other gentlemen—I get my living by prostitution; the prisoner knew that—he knew that Allen came to see me, he had not been away two nights out of the three weeks.
EMILY DAY . I live at 4, Bloomfield Street, in the same house with Eliza Beer; I pay rent to her—I am an unfortunate woman—on 18th December I was in bed with a man in the front parlor, I was lying awake, the man beside me was fast asleep—I heard the street door burst open first, and my room door next; it had been locked, but not bolted—the prisoner came into my room and said to the man who was lying by the side of me, the worse for drink "I will pay you," they had had a previous quarrel outside—he pulled the clothes off him and began to beat him; he then left off beating him and ran upstairs—I afterwards heard a fall—I remained down-stairs, Allen ran downstairs and went for a policeman—I saw nothing more till the police came and took the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I am quite sure that the prisoner struck Gilby, the man who was with me; he did not do more than pull him out of bed—I had not been in the prisoner's company that evening—I saw him in the African public-house, but 1 was not in his company, I was with Gilby in another compartment—the prisoner was a steady, well-conducted man up to this night—I had been living at that house about six weeks, Allen was there every day for three weeks out of the six.
Re-examined. Gilby was struck by the prisoner—he knew that Allen was with Beer during the three weeks.
THOMAS ALLPRESS (Policeman K 571). I was on duty in North Street, Poplar—about 1 o'clock on 19th December I saw deceased, and he had a cut on the temple, blood was running down the side of his nose, and he had a slight abrasion over the eye; in consequence of what he said I went to 4, Bloomfield Street and there found the prisoner lying partly underneath the bed in the front room upstairs—I awoke him; he was apparently asleep; he awoke as soon as I took hold of him; he appeared to be the worse for drink—I told him I should take him into custody for the assault—I noticed a chamber there, it was broken in several pieces and there was a little blood at the bottom of it.
Cross-examined. He went very quietly to the station—I had known him four or five years—he is a corn porter in the docks and lives at 6, Lyon Street, Poplar.
FRANCES ANN GRIMM . I am the sister of Eliza Beer and live with my husband at 90, Gill Street, Limehouse—on Tuesday, 19th, about 1.30 a.m. Allen knocked at my door and asked to be taken in—I allowed him to come in and he laid down on the hearth rug in the back room; my husband got up at 5.30, I heard him call to Allen—about 6.15 I heard Allen go down stairs and open the street door; I then got up—Allen went outside and walked up and down in the street—when I came down he said he was very bad—I said "Do you feel any worse than you generally do?"—he said that he was very bad and that he was dying—I sent for Mr. McAndrew; while he was sent for Allen asked for a chair, I gave him a chair and he sat on it against the street door in the passage, I supported him, and before Mr. McAndrew came he died; that was about
twenty minutes after I heard him open the door and go out—I had known him before by being in company with my sister.
Cross-examined. I had known him for some years—he has always complained of being ill ever since I have known him—I understood that he suffered very seriously from his heart, from what he told us.
Re-examined. Nothing was said about his heart that morning.
JAMES JOHN MCANDREW , M.R.C.S., Three Colt Street, Limehouse 90, Gill Street, is about a mile from 4, Bloomfield Terrace—on 19th December, about 6 o'clock a.m. I was sent for to 90, Gill Street—I found the deceased, seated in a chair supported by Mrs. Grimm, quite dead—there were some contusions about the eyes, one more especially, what is commonly called black eye—he had been bleeding a little from the nose, but he had wiped it off—there was an abrasion of the skin about the eye—I did not observe any other wound—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination—I found effusion of blood about the brain from a rupture of a blood vessel, and a small fracture at the base of the skull—the heart was enlarged to twice the ordinary size, the lungs were healthy, the liver was normal, but congested like that of a man who had been drinking lately; the spleen was natural, the kidneys inflamed and granular, the stomach and intestines natural,—in my judgment concussion of the brain was the cause of death—I believe the concussion caused the effusion of the blood vessel, not the actual rupture, that was very slight—the skull was the thinnest I have ever seen; I believe an ordinary skull submitted to the same amount of violence would come out unscathed—I do not, of course, know what the amount of violence was, but I can account for it in this way, that the peculiar fracture was caused by pitching on the head and the shock was communicated to the spine—I don't think a blow on the face with a fist would produce the fracture, unless it might in this being an exceptional case on account of the malformation of the bones—if he had been pulled out of bed violently and fallen on the top of his head, that would be the most probable way in which it would be occasioned—I don't think a fall against the chamber would aggravate it, that would shield and prevent the shock more or less, it would depend upon how he fell on it—death might have been due to the state of the heart if it had not been for the fracture of the skull—I think mere excitement might have caused the effusion.
Cross-examined. I have said that the effusion was caused by the concussion and not by the fracture, the fracture was the exciting cause—if I had not seen the fracture I should have attributed the death to apoplexy—I should have been led to the belief that he died from heart disease—the effusion was capable of being caused without the fracture; where you have effusion you seldom have fracture—the effusion was on the surface of the brain, the fracture was at the base of the skull, at the hinder part, where the bones are weak—the effusion, however caused, was of itself sufficient to account for death; it depends upon the quantity—in my opinion the effusion was not caused so much by excitement as by the fracture—there were no internal injuries corresponding with the blow on the eye—the condition of the heart was such that it might have caused sanguineous apoplexy, or congestion of the brain, or effusion of blood on the brain—in my opinion the effusion arose from the violence which occasioned the fracture—excitement from the quarrel might have occasioned it—I did not say before the Magistrate that pure excitement alone might have caused it, I meant excitement caused by the quarrel and the fall—pure excitement'
would cause sanguineous apoplexy, which would cause death—he had sanguineous apoplexy sufficient to cause death independent of the fracture, but I should not call it sanguineous apoplexy; I should call it effusion of blood on the brain; without the fracture it would be sanguineous apoplexy; with the fracture it would be owing to the violence.
Re-examined. I say that the death was due to concussion, and the concussion was due to violence to the skull, the fracture.
By THE COURT. The heart was in a bad condition, but I found no symptoms to lead me irresistably to the conclusion that he would have died of heart disease; I think be would have lived longer, I can't say how long—the fracture might have been caused by a blow from the fist, on account of the thinness of the skull, but a fall is what generally occasions that particular kind of fracture—that was the immediate cause of death, the remote cause would be disease of the heart—if I had not seen the fracture I should have thought he might have lived for years, perhaps ten year—from the condition of the heart there was nothing to lead me to suppose that he would have died within so short a period.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, January 10th, 1877.
(For cases tried this day see Essex, Kent, and Sussex cases).
THIRD COURT—Wednesday, January 10th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
168. GEORGE DOCKER (21), and JOHN GRANEY (22) , Stealing 31 lbs. of tea, the property of Thomas White, Docker having been previously convicted of felony, to which DOCKER PLEADED GUILTY — Twelve Month's Imprisonment.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES CURRIE . I live at 13, Laburnam Street, Queensland Road, and am employed by Messrs. Neale & Co., wharfingers—on 13th December, about 4.10, I was going to the third floor of the warehouse when I heard a noise, turned on my light, and saw the prisoners—Graney was trying to conceal himself under a cloth—I called to Radnor—I found several cases of tea broken open, with tea similar to that found on Graney.
JOHN RADNOR (Wharf Constable). I was called by Currie and found Graney under a sheet—I said "What are you doing there?"—he said "I have only come to have a lie down"—I said that I should charge him with being there for an unlawful purpose—I took him to the station—I found some tea (produced) in Graney's pockets.
Graney's Defence. I had been employed there during the day and left my smock and went to search for it.
He was further charged with having been convicted of felony, in August, 1873, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, January 10th, 1877.
Before Robert Malcom Kerr, Esq.
MR. PURCELL conducted the Prosecution.
has rheumatism in both knees and the right ankle—he cannot get out of bed. (The Prosecutor's deposition was put in and read.) '
WILLIAM BURR (City Policeman 701). I was present when the prisoner was before Alderman Finnis—he slightly cross-examined the prosecutor; he had full opportunity of doing so—I believe he was first before the Lord Mayor.
FREDERICK ARTHUR PYMAN . I live at 3, Lincoln Terrace, Bow, and am a wine merchant—on Saturday evening, 9th December, I was at the bottom of the steps in New London Street and saw the prisoner and prosecutor straggling together—I said "What are you doing here?—the prosecutor said "This man has got my watch"—the prisoner said "Who has got your watch"—the prosecutor replied "You had, but you have put it back again"—I fetched constable 70l—when I came back the prosecutor was holding the prisoner and they were struggling.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I should think I was gone about a minute and a half—I will swear it was not more—neither of you were in liquor—I did not see the watch till the prosecutor took it out of his pocket at the station.
WILLIAM BURR (re-examined). At 9 o'clock on the evening in question I was called to the steps in New London Street where I saw the prosecutor and the prisoner struggling—the prosecutor had his left arm round the prisoner and his right hand had hold of his left wrist—the prosecutor gave the prisoner in charge for robbing him of his watch—I heard him call" Police!" and he said "This man has stolen my watch"—the prisoner said that he had not—I said "Where is the watch?" and the prosecutor said "He gave it me back again when he found he could not get away, and I called out' Police!'"—the prosecutor gave me this watch (produced).
Cross-examined. I saw the watch in the prosecutor's hand—you said you had not stolen it and "If I had known you meant this I should have been off." (The depositions, being referred to, did not contain this statement.) You told me you had sent some articles on Thursday, 7th, to the shipping office, and you referred me there for your name, address, and occupation, which, on going there, I found to be correct—this is your certificate of discharge two years since.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. I had been drinking with the prosecutor, and we left the public-house together. I tumbled down the steps against the prosecutor and he laid hold of me round the body. If I had wanted to go away I could have gone. I am a hard working man and have got testimonials to prove it."
Prisoner's Defence. You can see plainly that if I wished to get away or rob the man I could have got away, but I never attempted to rob him. I was drinking for nearly an hour in his company. He asked me if I was a seaman, (having the appearance of a seaman) and I told him I was I told him I had been to America, and he asked me if I had been to the Western Coast of Africa, and I told him I had been to Calabar and other parts of the coast. He asked me how many times I had been to America, and I said "About twenty times, in the mail boats." We had plenty of drink together. I came out to go home, down near the side of these steps, and I tumbled down, having had a little too much to drink, and hurt my shoulder, very near put it out. I tried to steady myself on the next flight but tumbled down that, and grabbed hold of the prosecutor to save myself. He turned round and catched me round the body and called "Police!" He says "You have stolen my
watch, and I will lock you up." I said "What for?" He said "You are robbing me." I said "If you think I am robbing you I will stand here till the police come." The witness passed by and went for the police. He then says "You stole my watch." I said "It's a lie, I never stole anything in my life." He said "I don't care a d——n, I will lock you up."
The Prisoner also handed in a written statement to the same effect.
NOT GUILTY . (See Fourth Court Thursday.)
MESSRS. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
MARY FRANCES GANNON . I am a widow and have a house at 12, Pembroke Square, Kensington, which I let to the prisoner's father on 21st August, and received eight guineas in advance, but had no reference—I saw the prisoner there; he gave the name of Smith—he is not my son and had no authority to take my name—I have no son named John Gannon, who wrote this letter of 5th September.
ALEXANDER JOHNSON . I manage the watch and clock business of Mrs. Wells, 12, High Street, Kensington—on 26th September, in consequence of a message, I went to Mrs. Gannon's house, 12, Pembroke Square, where I saw the prisoner; he showed me the clocks round the house, and afterwards told me his brother, Mr. Gannon, had seen a ring in Mrs. Wells' shop marked 10l. and wanted to know if we would take anything less, and if we would take 9l. 10s. we were to send it—I said I could not say what we would take for it—I said nothing about payment—nothing was said about credit being given—he answered the door—I afterwards looked in the directory for the name of Gannon and sent the ring round by Gilbert, a porter, the same night.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You answered the door to me when I came to look at the clocks, and told me you had a clock upstairs that wanted seeing to—a female did not open the door to me—you did not give me any name at first.
HENRY GILBERT . I am a porter to Mrs. Wells—on 26th September I took a diamond ring to Mrs. Gannon's, 12, Pembroke Square, Kensington—the prisoner, who was there, said that his brother was not at home, but if I called later in the evening I could see him—I left the ring and went back in three quarters of an hour, but did not see him again—he came to the, shop later in the evening and saw Mr. King, the manager.
Cross-examined. I gave the ring into your hand.
WILLIAM GODDARD . I am a draper, of St. Lawrence Road, New Cross—I was seeking to buy a business in September last, and in consequence of a letter I saw the prisoner at 12, Pembroke Square, Kensington, and showed him this note I had had—he told me his name was Smith, and I put "mith" to the initials "C. S."—he wrote down these particulars in my presence.
WILLIAM SMITH (City Police Sergeant). I had held a warrant against the prisoner and went to Slough on 21st October—the shop there was closed and I went on to Hanwell, where I saw the prisoner in the road near Clifton Villas, with Holt, who said "This is Mr. Morgan"—I said to him
"I have a warrant for your arrest, and shall charge you with complicity with your father in obtaining a large quantity of goods from Mr. Candy and others; your name is Smith and you absconded from Slough"—he said that he had not—I then went into 3, Clifton Villas, where he was staying, and found three boxes packed up and some large parcels addressed from Hanwell to Paddington; there was no name on them.
The Prisoner put in a written defence, stating that he had acted entirely for his father, and by his directions.— NOT GUILTY . (See Fourth Court Thursday.)
172. CHARLES STANKEWEIT (25) , to stealing, in the dwelling-house of Edwin Gurney, one locket and other articles, and afterwards burglariously breaking out of the same— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
173. THOMAS FRENCH (21) , to maliciously breaking a pane of glass, the property of Ronald McDougal in the night time, exceeding in value 5l.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, January 11th, 1877.
Before Mr. Baron Hawkins.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MR. J. P. GRAIN the Defence.
CHARLES SHEPHERD . I am a sergeant of the first battalion of Grenadier Guards, which is stationed at Chelsea Barracks—the deceased, Noah Johnson, was a private in that battalion, the prisoner was a private in the second battalion—on the night of 25th December, I was sergeant on guard in the guard-room-men in the regiment are confined in the guard-room for drunkenness, and all other offences—there is a large bed in the guard-room, I suppose it would hold twenty men, it is a board or bank raised at one end—on 25th December, at 11.30 there were three men confined in the guard-room, Rawlings was one, he was confined for disobedience to orders; he was sober—Slack was brought in by an escort at 6.10 from the Tower, he was sober; the third man was Brewerton, he was in custody for absence; he belonged to the third battalion, and I did not take any account of him, he was sober—at 11.30 Johnson came in, he was drunk and dirty; the back of his coat was dirty; I ordered him into the guard-room—at 11.50 the prisoner was brought in by two police-constables and Corporal Jacobs, he was drunk—he was reported to be drunk by the corporal who brought him in—he was placed in the guard-room between the escort, Nuttall and Carter—I noticed that his cap was dirty as if it had been in the mud, and his tunic was dirty on the sleeve, I ordered Nuttall and Carter, to see him in the lock up—the prisoner said "Are you going to do me drunk"—I told him to mind his own business—the expression "do me drunk" is a common saying with soldiers, it meant was I going to keep him in the guard-room, to treat him as a drunken man—it would have been my duty next morning to report him for drunkenness—I saw him put in the lock up; that is where the prisoners are confined, it is the same place in which the other men were confined; it is not the same as the guard-room, the guard-room is where the men are on guard—it is all one room.; there is
a door leading from the guard-room into the passage, and there is another door leading into the lock up, and on the other side of the passage there are three or four cells—I saw the prisoner put in the lock up; he made tie fifth man there—there is a peep-hole in the wall of the lock up from the guard-room—there was a light in the lock up—you cannot see quite all of the lock up from the peep-hole, you can see the whole of what is called the bed, the bed comes right under the peep-hole—the bed runs from the one end of the wall to the other, the peep-hole is above the bed, so that you can see all the way up it, I believe it is about a yard above the bed; in looking through it you cannot see the part of the bed nearest the peep-hole—the peep-hole is about as big as the top of that inkstand, it might be a little larger, about as big as a 5s. piece, and there is a slide goes over it—a brick wall separates the lock up from the guard-room—it is my duty to be in tie guard-room during the night, I do not keep the peep-hole always open during the whole night; there is no glass to it, there used to be, but it is deficient—when the slide is up you can put a stick right through the peep-hole into the lock up, the slide is an iron one—at the time I put the prisoner in I saw the inside of the lock up, I noticed the four other men who were already in there; I went to the door so as to be able to see the men distinctly; three of the men were at the far end of the lock up lying on the bed asleep, Slack, Brewerton, and Rawlings—Johnson was lying on the same bed nearly opposite the door, asleep—I looked through the peep-hole at 12 o'clock, and the four men were in the same position, and appeared to be asleep; the prisoner was sitting on the bed between Johnson and the other three, nearer Johnson, about a yard away from him, he was sitting with his feet on the floor; he was sitting near Johnson's feet—he had his tunic off, it was on when I put him in—Johnson's tunic was on—I am sure of that—the prisoner was sitting with—his body inclining forward, and his arms across his knees, and his faces towards the wall opposite the bed—I could not see whether he was asleep or not; it was a mere momentary glance—I then closed the slide—my attention was next attracted to the lock-up about a quarter of an hour after, by cries of "Murder" and "Sergeant of the guard" proceeding from the lock-up—I then looked through the peep-hole; I saw that Johnson was off the guard bed and I saw the remaining four prisoners at the end of the lock-up; the prisoner was standing over a man, pulling at his legs, the remainder were in the act of getting up—I am not certain of the man whose legs he was pulling—Rawlings, Slack, and Brewerton were all on the bed—the prisoner was not standing up; he was bent over—the men were all aroused at the time—I immediately went to the lock-up with the escort—when I got in I saw Johnson lying on the floor behind the lock-up door—I could not see him, looking from the peep-hole; he was lying faces downwards, his left side was resting against the foot of one of the legs of the guard bed, in a pool of blood—I turned him over, I could not recognise him, he was that much bruised, and his face covered with blood—he appeared to be dead—he was not then wearing his tunic; his shirt was smothered in blood—I ordered Nuttall and Carter to take the prisoner and place him in a cell; he said "Take me to a cell, for I have killed him"—he was then sitting near Johnson's feet, he was drunk—I noticed his shirt, hands, and boots; the boots were saturated with blood, covered all over, and his hands had blood on them, and his shirt—he was then put into a cell on the other side of the passage, and Mr. Fernandez, the surgeon, was sent for—I saw Johnson's
tunic on the guard bed over where he was lying; this is it (produced)—Johnson was lying at the foot of the guard bed on the floor, and his tunic was over where he was lying; I noticed that one of the epaulets was torn in this condition, and the button was off the other one—this is exactly the state in which it was when I found it—the epaulet was on when Johnson was brought in, and the button on the other side as well, and the tunic was not torn, it was all right—I found the epaulet on the floor near his feet, it it has been lost since—I afterwards searched the prisoner in the presence of the adjutant and the doctor, but found nothing—he said nothing—after he was left in the cell he was very riotous, kicking at the door, and I then had his boots taken off—about 3.15 Sergeant Thompson, of the police, came and fetched the prisoner; I gave him the boots.
Cross-examined. The deceased was in my battalion, the 1st, quartered at Chelsea barracks—the prisoner was in the 2nd battalion and was quartered at Wellington barracks, Birdcage Walk—they might have been quite strangers—when men are brought in drunk and put into the lock-up their boots are not taken from them unless they make a noise or kick the door, that is if they are riotous—it is not an understood thing in our battalion if a man is very drunk to take his boots off—the bed is a sloping bank, sloping down from the wall—when I looked in at 12. o'clock he was lying down in his tunic, he was lying in the ordinary way, with his head on the raised part of the bank and his feet at the bottom of the slope—I hare marked on the plan the spot where he was lying, and also the spot where I found the body when I went in at 12.15—the bank is about 7 feet in length from the wall to the foot, and about 7 yards long from wall to wall, that is the length of the lock-up—there' is about a yard's space at the entrance, just enough room for a man to walk up and down; two men might walk up and down together; that extends the whole length—when I went in and found the body I found the tnuic lying, on the bank as if it had been thrown there, and the epaulet was on the ground.
By THE COURT. When the slide is down you cannot hear anybody talking in the lock up—we put all prisoners in the lock-up unless they are riotous, then we have to shift them into the cells for safety—if a sober man is put into the lock-up at 10 o'clock in the morning for disobedience, and a drunken man comes in at 12 or 1 o'clock, he would be put into the same room—if half a dozen drunken men, not riotous, came in, they would be put in the same room where the man was sleeping who had only been guilty of disobedience—there is no order in our battalion to put the men in cells; the door that leads into the lock up from the passage is a wooden door; that is the only door to the lock up; it is close to the door of the guard-room—you have to pass through two doors to get from the guard-room into the lock up, one into the passage and another from the passage into the lock up—the guard-room door is an ordinary wooden door; it is opened from time to time and closed after it has been used; this was on Christmas night—there is a sentry at the entrance gate in front of the guard-room—the officer of the day does not visit us at night-no one visits at night—when anyone comes in, the sentry calls out "Gate," and the gate is opened—there is a wooden bed-place in the guard-room of the same kind as that—in the lock up for the men to lie down on—there would be about twenty men usually in the guard-room—there were two separate guards, two sergeants or acting corporals, and eighteen privates; the lock up was entirely under my control that night—no one had any duty to look into that room except
myself; a number of the twenty men had just come off sentry, and were sitting by the side of the fire, and a number of them were lying on the guard bed—if a man was riotous in the lock up, he would go into the cell, because he would be annoying the other prisoners; if a man came in drunk and incapable and obliged to be carried in he would be put in the cell; if he was only staggering he would not be put in a cell, he would be put in the guard-room—it is my duty from time to time to visit the lock up, once every hour, at the hour—I did not go in after the prisoner was confined, because he was confined at 11.50, and that was under the hour—there is no fixed time to visit, the sergeant uses his discretion; I generally visit at uncertain times—there is nobody whose duty it is to keep a constant watch; there is no sentry over them to watch them constantly—I frequently look through the peep-hole.
JOHN SLACK . I am a private in the first battalion of the Grenadier Guards—I was confined in the lock up at 6.15 on Christmas night—I had come from the Tower in custody of an escort—I had been in confinement from the previous night for being drunk, at 5.45; when I was put into the lock up at Chelsea Barracks, I was quite sober—there was another man there when I was put in, Rawlings; he was awake and sober—I afterwards went to sleep on the wooden bed—there was then nobody else in the lockup but Rawlings—I can't say what time it was when I awoke—I don't know what caused me to awake—I sat up and saw the prisoner standing over the other man and kicking him at the side of the head as he laid on the floor—I did not hear them say anything—the man was lying straight out on his back and his hands were lying down by his side—I did not see him move at all; his head was towards the wall where the peep-hole is—the prisoner stood at the side of him, with his face towards the hole—I only saw him kick him once; it was a violent kick—he had his boots on—when I saw this I was still on the bed—I noticed that there were then two other men in the lock up besides rue, Brewerton and Rawlings—I was lying at the further end of the lock up against the wall, Brewerton was next to me, and Rawlings next to him—they were not awake when I saw this, neither of them—after the kick the prisoner came towards me and took hold of Brewerton by the legs and said "If you take this man's part I will serve you the same"—Brewerton was not awake when he said this; he said it directly he pulled his legs; he might have pulled him a couple of feet off the bed from what I could see—Brewerton woke up and shouted out for the sergeant of the guard, and I called out "Murder"—the prisoner was then standing against the guard bed—he spoke in a violent manner—he did not say or do anything when I called out—I did not notice the peep-hole when I called out—you can tell when it is opened if you look; I did not notice it at all—when we called out the sergeant of the guard came in—the prisoner was then sitting in the middle of the guard bed, 2 or 3 yards off from the man on the ground—he seemed to be very violent—we were on the bed when the sergeant came in—we got off afterwards, and I went out into the guard room and know no more about it—I did not know the prisoner before that night, nor Johnson, Brewerton, or Rawlings—I did not know when Brewerton or the deceased or the prisoner came into the lockup.
Cross-examined. I was examined before the Magistrate—I said "I only saw the prisoner give one kick; I did not notice the man much."
Chelsea Barracks at 10.30 for being absent over leave—I was sober—when I went in Slack and Rawlings were there—I went to sleep on the bed about half an hour after I got inside—I was aroused by the prisoner having hold of my legs; he was pulling me off the guard bed—he said If you like to get up and take the man's part I will serve you the same"—I got up on the bed on my feet and said "I do not want to take his part"—as soon as he said the words I looked round to the left and saw the man lying on the floor—I did not see him move at all—he was lying nearly on his right side, with his head up against the wall nearest the guard-room, where the peep hole is—I could see that he was smothered in blood—the prisoner kept saying something, but I did not take notice of all the words he said—I woke Rawlings up; the other man was awake; I said "Get up here; he has been killing a man, and he is going to pitch into me now"—we then all got" up on the guard-bed, and the prisoner sat down close to where I was lying—we hallooed for the sergeant of the guard, and Sergeant Shepherd and the sergeant of the third battalion came to the door—the prisoner was then down by the door, but I did not' see him get up off the guard bed'—he stood up, and the sergeant ordered him to be taken in the cell—he said he did not want any taking, he bad killed the man and he could walk in—I saw him go in the cell; he walked in; I think Corporal Eastman went in along with him—I went into the guard-room for two or three minutes, and then I went into a cell while the dead body was moved out—I know nothing more about it.
Cross-examined. From the time I went to sleep till I was pulled by the legs, I was not awake, and do not know who came into the guard-room—he said to Shepherd "I have killed the man, and I can walk in."
ALFRED JOHN RAWLINGS . I am a private in the first battalion of Grenadier Guards—I was confined in the lock up on Sunday night about 10 o'clock, for refusing to go on picket—at 10.30, on Christmas Day I was sober—I went to sleep about 10.30—Brewerton and Slack were there in the lock up besides me—I was awoke by Brewerton, who said there was a man murdered on the guard-room floor—I then saw the prisoner standing against Brewerton—he said he would murder him as well; I don't recollect his exact words—he was not doing anything to Brewerton then; I saw Johnson lying on the floor—I called the sergeant of the guard and shouted "Murder!" twice; I did not hear the sergeant order the escort to take the prisoner to the cell; I did not hear the prisoner say anything else—I did not know him before, I knew Johnson.
Cross-examined. I was in the same battalion with Johnson, and in the same barracks—I have not been examined as a witness before.
HENRY BROWN . I a private in the first battalion of Grenadier Guards—I knew the deceased, Noah Johnson, for the last four years; I have seen the prisoner before at different times, but have not known him properly—I had seen him at Chelsea barracks about four months before, and knew him as a soldier in the Grenadier Guards—on the night of Christmas Day, I was at the Guardsman beer-house, in Lower George Street, Chelsea, about 200 or 300 yards from Chelsea barracks—I went there somewhere about 9 o'clock, it might be a little after—about 10.35, Johnson came to the front door, he was the worse for beer; he was very near drunk, he could stand up—the prisoner came in about five minutes after Johnson; they were both in uniform; there were no other guardsmen in the same room—I and Johnson and the prisoner were in a room together, and a lot
of civilians, but no other soldiers that I know of—the prisoner called Johnson a liar—he said "You are a b——liar"—Johnson said "You are the same," or something like that, I could not swear exactly; he did not repeat the words—this was said directly after the prisoner came in; when Johnson said "You are the same," the prisoner said nothing, he failed up against Johnson—Johnson dropped his stick which he had under his arm, and he stooped down and picked it up, and I drank up my beer and went away—I was examined before the Magistrate, not before the Coroner—the prisoner said nothing else besides what I have stated—I did not hear why he called Johnson a b——liar; that was all I heard—it was about 11.45 or 11.40 when I left—I was sober; I had leave that night, and did not return to the barracks until the following morning.
OCTAVIUS WHEELER (Policeman B 296). I was on duty on the night of Christmas Day, at 11 30, in the Commercial Road, Pimlico; that is very near half a mile from the Guardsman beer-house, and close to the barracks—Hobden, another constable, was with me—I saw the prisoner there, he was drunk and was stripped; his cap, belt, and tunic were lying in a doorway, his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow; he was in a fighting attitude—there was a crowd there—he said he would fight me or any other b—man; I picked up his tunic and held it up for him to put it on, he put it on, but did not button it up; I told him to go to the barracks—the other constable picked up his belt and cap and handed them to him, and told him to put his things on and go to barracks—the prisoner threw them down again in the road; I saw corporal Jacobs, and called him to him and he took charge of him, and both us constables accompanied him to the barracks.
Cross-examined. He was not so drunk but he knew what he was doing—he was not very drunk, not but what he knew what he was doing—he could stand and walk very well.
CHARLES JACOBS . I am a corporal in the first battalion of Grenadier Guards—on Christmas night, about 11.40, I was in the Commercial Road—I saw the prisoner there with two constables—I saw his cap and belt lying in the centre of the street; the constables said if I did not take him to barracks or order him away they should have to take him into custody—I then ordered him to go to barracks—he said he would not till he liked—I took him to barracks with the assistance of the two constables; when we were going by the front of the barracks he wanted to get his hands loose—he kept putting his left hand up, asking the constables to put his cap on properly—they said "Never mind that, stop till you get inside"—between the gate and the guard-room door, he said "I suppose this is 10s. for me"—I took him in and gave him over in charge to Sergeant Shepherd—he was drunk—he said "Sergeant, are you going to do me drunk."
WALTER EASON . I am a lance-corporal in the third battalion of Grenadier Guards—I was on duty at Chelsea Barracks on the night of Christmas Day—I saw Johnson when he came in; he was very drunk—I was there when the prisoner came about 12 o'clock—about 11.45 I went to fetch the doctor—I afterwards saw Johnson lying in the lock up—the prisoner was in the cell-about 12.30 I went to the cell; we had to go to the cell to take his boots off, he was calling out for a great coat, he kept on saying "I want a great coat;" one was got for him, I did not see it given to him—I saw his boots taken off, they were smeared with blood—I fetched Dr. Fernandez.
JOSEPH THOMPSON (Police Sergeant B 16). I was sent for on this morning, shortly after 3 o'clock, to Chelsea Barracks—I saw the body of Johnson lying in the lock up—I has informed what had occurred; I went to the cell where the prisoner was—he was apparently asleep; I aroused him and told him from what I had been informed by the medical man, Dr. Fernandez, I should take him into custody for murdering a brother comrade named Noah Johnson by kicking him on the head—the prisoner in an unconcerned manner replied "I don't care"—some other words followed, but I could not distinctly say what they were—he appeared to be recovering from the effects of drink—on searching him at the police-station I found blood on the front of his shirt, and on the charge being read out there he again replied "I do not care"—I produce the boots, which I received from the sergeant of the guard.
Cross-examined. I noticed the knuckles of his hand; I could not Bay they were swollen, the skin was off them, and they were smothered in blood—he was apparently asleep when I went into the cell—I think the words I said to him were that he would be charged with causing the death of Noah Johnson.
Re-examined. I think it was the knuckles of the right hand that had the skin off, to the best of my recollection; they were bleeding—I did not see any other marks on him—I saw no marks on his face.
ALBERT LOUIS FERNANDEZ . I am surgeon to the third battalion of Grenadier Guards—about 12.30 in the morning after Christmas Day I was called to the guard-room at Chelsea Barracks—I saw the body of Johnson lying in the lock up, he was quite dead—there was a great quantity of blood on the floor and his head and face were covered with blood—I saw that his head and face had been injured—I made a post-mortem examination on the 28th—I found the head and face much swollen and covered with contusions and lacerations, the right ear almost severed from the head, and the left ear touch lacerated—there were many contusions on the surface of the trunk and limbs—there were a great many injuries to the head and a great many both on the trunk and limbs—on removing the scalp I found a large quantity of blood effused between the scalp and the skull on the upper and posterior part of the right side, corresponding in position with a large external contusion—on examining the interior of the skull I found much congestion of the blood vessels of the convolutions of the brain and a considerable quantity of blood effused on the surface of the right hemisphere of the brain, corresponding also in position to the external injury before alluded to—three of the ribs on the right side were broken; there were external bruises corresponding with that injury—the right lobe of the liver was lacerated opposite the fracture of the ribs—in my judgment, the death arose from those injuries; either those to the head or the liver would be sufficient to account for death—he was a thick-set, strong man—the organs were very healthy, indeed—the injuries were such as might have been inflicted by kicks from a man's boots—the injuries to the head were such as would produce insensibility—the one on the right side might have been inflicted by a kick from a boot and would produce insensibility—the injuries to the ears might have been inflicted by kicks by a boot—I think one kick would fracture the three ribs and lacerate the liver—I could not judge from the appearances how many blows must have been given, there must have been a great many separate blows, some of the contusions might have been inflicted with a man's fist——I don't think a blow from a fist would produce the lacerations I found—
saw the prisoner that night—he had been put into the cell and was brought out again—it was between 12 o'clock and 12.30 when I arrived at the guardroom—he was drunk—he said nothing to me, or I to him.
JOHN KNIGHT (Police Inspector B). I spoke to the prisoner about his friends both before and after he was committed—he said when I saw him first that he had no friends—after he was committed 1 went to him again, seeing that he looked faint when he came out of the dock, and asked him if he would have any refreshment—he said he would, he would like a little drop of brandy—I then again spoke to him about his friends—he said, "I have no friends, friends cannot do me any good, I killed the man, I shall be hung for it;" about quarter of an hour afterwards he sent for me and I went to his cell—he then told me that his mother lived in New York, America, and that he should like for her to know that he was charged with murder, in case he should be hung—he gave me her address, 844, Eleventh Avenue, and I took steps to have that done.
GUILTY .— DEATH .
MR. FULTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
RICHARD HART . I am a chimney sweep, and live at 9, Tooting Court, Marylebone, the prisoner is my wife—on the night of 11th September, a. little after 12 o'clock I went home with her—I had been at work in the morning part; I had been drinking about all day almost, whenever I had time from my work, along with friends—I was tolerably fresh, my wife was sober—when 1 got home I laid on the floor, as I generally do when I have a little drop, upstairs in my room—my wife came up with me, and as I was lying down she took off my boots and cut my jacket, that woke me; I was in a. drunken sleep—I don't believe there was anybody else in the room—there are only two others persons living in the house—my wife went down-stairs, I went down after her and followed her up the court and tried to persuade her to come back because there were no more houses open to get liquor and she stabbed me or did something to me, I put it down to being stabbed; she sticked me with a knife, I am sure—I did not see the knife—I was in front of her trying to get her home and she goes like that in a moment, (describing a stab)—I had not hold of her, I did not touch her—I only asked her to come back and she would not, and made a dig at me—and I said, "Lizzie, I am stabbed"—I saw her make a dig at me, and 1 felt it too, I was pouring with blood—I saw a man named Smith there that I knew, and I said to him, "Charlie, I am stabbed"—my wife went down the court again after she done it and went upstairs—I hallooed for police and the constable came up—Mr. Giles the doctor saw me that same night and I was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. I daresay it might be an hour after I got home that I was stabbed—I had been out drinking that night—I was in some men's company, not in any women's that 1 recollect—i war not quarrelling with some women in a public-house—I don't remember it—none of the men or women followed me to the corner of the court—I could not swear it—I am not given to quarrelling—we do have rows two or three times a week—I was standing near the entrance of the court when I received the injury, about six or seven houses from my house—I don't remember my wife saying she would not stay in the house with me because of the state I was in—I
could not swear it—she went out without her boots, and would not come 1 back; she had taken my boots off previous to that—I don't know what state my coat was in when I went home—I can't say it was not cut in a public-house disturbance; I don't recollect—my wife has declared all along that she did not stab me—I did not hear what she said at the police-court—it is not true that I have a lot of bad companions—I have been at a police-court for assaulting my wife, not for anything else that I am aware of—I had six weeks and twenty-one days for assaulting her; one was last twelve months, Lord Mayor's Day—she said I kicked her, but I did not—I have never been tried for felony; I swear that; it is not true that I am out all night with thieves and bad company.
GEORGE HAWES . I live at 3, East Street, Manchester Square, and am melter at a tallow chandler's—on the morning of 12th September, about 2 o'clock, I was at work at Messrs. Harris & Blackburn's, in Tooting Court—i I heard some persons talking in the court—I could not exactly catch what it was or who it was—I was at work on the ground floor, and the window looks out on the court—I heard a man sing out "I am stabbed, I am stabbed; police, police"—I went to the door, and saw the prisoner running down the court from a man on the opposite side of the way—I had never seen her before to my knowledge—as she passed my door she made a motion with her left hand to me, but the words I could not swear to; it sounded to me like "Go in, it is only a drunken man"—there was a lamp under the archway—I had an opportunity of seeing her face; my gaslight reflected through the door, and I was able to discern anyone's features going by—I can swear the prisoner is the woman—she had no boots on—I looked up the court, and saw the prosecutor about 2 or 3 yards from the top of the court; he had got his hand to his left side, and was staggering from one side of the court to the other—he was in the direction the prisoner had come from—I saw no one else in the court, only those two—I did not see anything in her hand—the police came in two or three minutes, and I then saw the man was bleeding from his side through his clothes.
Cross-examined. The court is about 90 or 100 yards long—the lamp was about 8 yards from my door—I did not hear the prisoner say that somebody had stabbed her husband.
GEORGE MICHAEL GILES . I am house-surgeon at St. Mary's Hospital—between 2 and 3 o'clock on the morning of 12th September the prosecutor was brought there by some policemen—he had a punctured wound on the left side of his back, which proceeded downwards and outwards—it was about 1 or 1 1/2 inches long and about 2 inches deep—it extended obliquely underneath the skin—it was a very dangerous wound; it had opened the chest and injured the cavity in which the lungs are contained—air was bubbling from the wound—it might have been caused by such knives as were shown to me at the police-court—he has continued at the hospital till now, an will return there this evening—he is out of danger now, but I fear he will suffer from the effects of it for the rest of his life.
Cross-examined. His statement that she was behind him was most probably true, not that she was in front of him—he made both statements.
Re-examined. He was so ill at one time that his deposition was taken at the hospital—he was in a dangerous state.
ROBERT SHEPHERD . I am a cowman, and live at 9, Tooting Court, in the next room to the prisoner—I heard a noise on the night of 12th September, between 1 and 2 o'clock, the prisoner came to my room door and begged
me for mercy to let her in, that her husband was fighting with another man who had stabbed him—I did not lot her in, I fastened my door and kept her out—a few minutes afterwards the policeman came and took her to the station.
FREDERICK PRENTIS (Policeman D 44). About 1.50 this morning, I was called to Tooting Court, by cries of "Police;" I saw the prosecutor reeling from one side of the court to the other bleeding from his left side—after another constable came up I went and arrested the prisoner—she said "I did not do it," I found this white handled knife behind the street door of No. 9, it was stained with blood—the other two were found in the room.
FRANCIS HASTED (Police-Sergeant D 19). I was at the station when the prosecutor was brought in on a stretcher; the prisoner was also brought in—she said she was innocent, she did not do it—seeing that the man was badly stabbed I directed the constables to take him to the hospital.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I am innocent of it; I did not do it, I was in bed and asleep at the time of the occurrence, it is a false charge brought against me—my husband is the companion of thieves and prostitutes, he is a convicted thief, I am sorry to say he is out all night with thieves and in bad company, and has several other convictions against him."
GUILTY **— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, January 11th, 1877.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY HIGGINS . I am a lighterman of Shadwell—on Friday night, 22nd December, about 11.15, I was in Trinity Square, I had been drinking and had got about 3l. 10s. in my pocket—I was surrounded by three or more men who held me down on the stones and pressed my throat on the pavement which took the skin off my face—there is a mark of a thumb nail on ray face—when I got up both my trowsers pockets were turned inside out—they had lamed me in my knee and I reeled across the road, but could not go further—I called "Police," and Kelly came up directly and brought the prisoner to me, but I was not able to swear to him, but I believe he was one of the gang—I lost about 3l. 10s.—I had taken 2l. 14s. 4d. for my week's wages—a sovereign and a shilling were brought back to me.
DENNIS KELLY (Policeman H 139). I was in George Street and heard cries of "Police" in Trinity Square—I ran through the square and saw Higgins with his pockets turned inside out, and three men running from him, not more than 3 or 4 yards from him when I first saw them—I apprehended the prisoner without losing sight of him, and with the assistance of another constable took him back to Higgins, who was drunk—I saw Watts pick up a sovereign and a shilling—Higgins said "That is one of the men who ran away"—the prisoner said nothing to that, but on the way to the station he said to Higgins "Fred, I hope you will not do anything to me, will you?"—he was very violent and knocked me down two or three times, and the other constable as well—when we got him to the station he said that he did not do it—I found on him 8s. in loose silver.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were not making water, you were running away—Higgins did not say that you were not one of them; he said that you were—he was very drunk and wanted to get at you; he said that he would punch your jaw.
EDWARD WATTS . I am a cooper—I was in Trinity Square and saw four men on top of Higgins—I called "Police" and three of them ran towards the Minories—I gave chase, heard something fall from one of them, and picked up a sovereign, and as I thought if I got stopped with it I should get locked up I went back and saw another man pick up something—I said "What have you got?" he said nothing; I caught hold of his hand, took out a shilling; we went to the prosecutor and gave them to him—he was not in a state to tell one man from another, because he was so excited—a constable brought the prisoner from Thames Street, but I cannot swear to him—I picked up Higgins' cap.
Cross-examined. You chucked the constable down three times, once at the corner of Rosemary Lane and once on Tower Hill—the City constable also had hold of you, but he did no good.
The Prisoner's 'Statement before the Magistrate. "I was going home and the money I had I earned."
Prisoner's Defence. I had been working very hard all day carrying oranges and earned 8s. 6d—I was making water when the policeman took me—he kept punching me and I dropped down with exhaustion—he asked him if I was the man and he said "No"—I am a hardworking chap.
DENNIS KELLY (re-examined). I followed three men and the prisoner is one of the three; they ran into—Gould Square and I caught him in Gould Square—that is exactly the reverse way to Thames Street—I never lost sight of the prisoner or of the other three—I apprehended one of the three.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT—Thursday, January 11th, 1877.
Before Robert Malcom Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. BESLEY and J. P. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY BIDDIS . I am a porter on the Hop Exchange—I was engaged there in March last—I knew the prisoner by the name of Bentley; a firm of Bentley had offices there—I have spoken with a person who told me in prisoner's presence that the prisoner was his son—they left their offices in March last—the name was on the door of Nos. 12 and 13—letters came addressed to Bentley.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not take the offices of me.
EDMUND ROBINS . I am manager to Messrs Kippling & Co., of 34, London Wall, umbrella silk manufacturers—I supplied on 2nd or 3rd August the goods represented in this invoice to Messrs. C. Smith &Co., of St. Paul's Buildings—we have four of the pieces back from the pawnbrokers—the goods were signed for on delivery—the terms were for cash on 20th August—we applied for the money, but could not find anybody in the place.
Cross-examined. You applied first for patterns—I have not the order—I cannot swear to your writing—they were sent to Smith & Co.—this is the letter. (Read: "I regret I was not in when you called on me with
regard to credit. My pay day being the 20th of the present month, on that date a cheque will be handed to your collector. I am the London agent for Messrs. E. & J. Jackson, of Manchester, which is a guarantee of ray integrity. Please send silk as on order, C. Smith &Co. Mem. 4,143 green twill silk, one piece at 3s. 9d.,) I did not supply the goods as I left town—we telegraphed to our agents in Manchester, who replied that C. Smith &Co. were agents to E. & J. Jackson—you sent other references Samuel Ferry. I am porter to Messrs. Kippling &Co.—on 2nd August I took three pieces of silk to Messrs. Smith &Co., and saw the prisoner—on 9th August I went again—I got these receipts.
MARY FRANCES GANNON . I am a widow and live at 12, Pembroke Square, Kensington—on 12th or 15th August I advertised to let my house and saw the prisoner with his father—the elder person said in the prisoner's presence that he had lost money and desired to let his house at Dulwich for 5l. 10s., and take mine for 2l., thus saving himself 3l. 10s. a week—I gave him possession on 21st August—I left the house leaving some boxes in a back room, and everything was taken out of them—they were not related to me—they never made me a present.
Cross-examined. The arrangement was made with your father—he wrote afterwards agreeing to take the house.
JOHN PRESTON . I am assistant to Mr. Harrison, a pawnbroker, of Aldersgate Street—I have given up three pieces of silk which were pawned by the prisoner—we received half the money—this is the memorandum produced "15l. advanced on four pieces of silk for one year; 85, Newgate Street the other is for 7l. 10s.
JOSEPH KEYWORTH . I am clerk to Mr. Beall, house agent, Regent Street—in September last we had the letting of Windsor House, Slough, on our books—an application was made to us in the name of Smith for it—the prisoner afterwards called to learn the terms of letting, and proposed to take it in his brother's name, Henry Smith, for seven years, at 40l. or 40 guineas a year, and to pay 10l. for the fixtures—he referred us to Mrs. Gannon, of 12, Pembroke Square—I applied there and received in reply the letter marked "H" produced—the prisoner afterwards called and I told him I had received it—he called four or five times, and on one occasion took the agreement away with him—he brought it back signed "Henry Smith," and said that he would pay the 10l. for the fixtures and take the agreement back when signed on behalf of the landlord—he paid for the fixtures and one guinea for the agreement.
Cross-examined. We advertised this shop at Windsor—my impression is that I only saw you—we never received any rent.
JOHN EVANS . I am a plumber, of William Street, Slough—I was employed in September to look after Windsor House, Slough—I shewed it to a person on the 18th, about a week before I gave up possession—the prisoner once came to me and said that his brother had decided to take the house, I told him I could not give him the keys until I had heard from Mr. Beall—he left some heavy parcels there—I wrote to Mr. Beall—a man said to be the prisoner's brother, on the 19th, brought a note from Mr. Beall for me to give up the keys—I afterwards paid 4s. 6d., and this is the receipt of the Great Western Railway, which I afterwards received from the prisoner—I
saw other goods arrive—one time the elder Smith remarked "Dear me, they have sent goods here instead of sending them on to our London house. Be sure they go to town to-night;" upon that the young man took the parcel with him, and the elder ordered him to go on in front and get the tickets; he took me into the hotel and we had a little refreshment—I was engaged at the house on and off doing plumber's work about a fortnight—I understood the prisoner signing his name as Morgan—the name was the London Drapery Bazaar Company, Windsor House, on the side, and the London Bazaar Company in the centre—I heard of the name of Morgan after the prisoner was in custody.
Cross-examined. There were in the house four bed-rooms, two rooms on the ground floor, a shop parlour, kitchen, and scullery—there was a garden—your father said that the goods were too good for Slough—I saw you pack up the silk in brown paper and take it away.
EDWARD EMERSON . I am manager of the sale department of Messrs. James C. Boyd &Co.—on 4th September, 1876, I received the letter marked "M"—the usual form of inquiry for reference was then sent to Mrs. Gannon—in reply I received the letter dated 5th September—I after saw the prisoner in the stuff department—he selected goods to the amount of 300l.—I asked if he was Mr. Smith, and he said "No, I am his brother"—I said "We shall want to see your brother and to know something of his antecedents before we can give him credit"—he said that he had been living at Mr. Soper's, at Brighton, who was a large customer of theirs, and that his brother had gone or was going to Manchester—the prisoner called again and brought the letter produced the next day after he had selected the goods—I also received a letter which contained a life policy, with particulars on the back: "Medical Life Association, London, policy 725, sum assured 1,144l. 6s. 5d., on the life of Margaret Langham and Jane Gannon"—there was also a letter he had received from Mr. Watts, signed by Mr. Foster—I wrote a reply and the prisoner took it away—I afterwards made enquiries and in consequence did not deliver the goods.
Cross-examined. I received the letter signed "Jane Gannon" at the end of October by post—we do not keep the envelopes—I did not come to any arrangement with you.
M. F. GANNON (re-examined). Those policies are mine—I gave no authority to the Smiths to deal with them—they broke open a box and got them.
WILLIAM GODDARD . I am a draper, of 118, St. Donald's Road, New Cross—in September last I was looking out for a business—I advertised, and two days afterwards received a letter initialled "H. S."—on 23rd September I went to 12, Pembroke Square; I saw a female who said Mr. Smith was not in—I went a second time and saw the prisoner—I went into the parlour—I asked his name; he told me—I then put the "mith" to complete the word—he told me he had got a business at Slough to sell, and then he wrote this; "Henry Smith, Windsor House, Slough, rent 42l. per annum, taxes 5l., double frontage shop, plate glass front, stock l,500l. at a. valuation, good cellars, six bed-rooms, and a washhouse;" to which I added: "5 miles below Windsor"—I advertised again and went to 3, Clifton Villas, Hamvell, on 14th October, in consequence of a reply—I saw a female first, and on calling a second time saw the prisoner—I told him I had come about the business—he said that he had sold it last night—I said that I was sorry, as I had got my son there and was prepared to go into the
matter—I then asked if he was the gentleman I saw at Kensington; he said "Yes"—we had advertised in different initials—the house at Hanwell was a private house, no business was carried on, but there was one parcel in the passage.
CHARLES CHABOT . I have made handwriting a study—the document, lettered "O," of 5th September, is in the same writing as the document I hold in my hand; I have not had the one containing the words "James Davis," but on looking at it, I believe it is—"James Adams," I should think, is the same handwriting, but my opinion is not so strong on that.
THEODORE WAGNER . I am employed by Messrs. Candy &Co., of 4 and 5, Watling Street—on 11th September, the prisoner brought this letter (This letter was signed "Henry Smith" and addressed to Messrs. Candy &Co., and stating that nothing should be left undone to make their relations satisfactory.) The prisoner waited to see my partner, Mr. Candy, but I asked if he was Henry Smith's assistant; he said "Yes"—I introduced him to our salesman.
Cross-examined. Nothing passed as to terms—it was not my department.
JOHN WHITE . I am a buyer for Messrs. Candy &Co.—on 12th September, the prisoner came to my department and selected goods to the amount of 29l. 5s. 6d.—they were sent to the entering room—I afterwards saw some of them at the detective's office, and again at Slough; the particulars are set out in the invoice, marked "T."
JAMES CHARTERIS . I am employed by Messrs. Candy & Co.—on 12th September, the prisoner came into my department and was introduced as buyer for Messrs. Smith & Co., of Slough—he selected silk and ribbon to the value of 88l. 7s. 4d.—they were sent to the entering department—on—23rd October, I went to the detective's office, in Old Jewry, and recognized our goods by the tickets, which were still on them.
CHARLES FREDERICK HOGARD . I am manager for Messrs. Candy &Co.; goods to the vaiue of 357l. 13s. 4d. were sent by my direction to Messrs, Smith &Co., of Slough—102l. worth have been returned—I received the letter of 1st September, on the 7th, with an address enclosed in it, and after writing, I received the letter of 8th September—I went away on the 9th, and saw no more of the prisoner.
M. F. GANNON (re-examined.) That (produced) is my card; I gave no authority to any one to send it to Messrs. Candy &Co.
AUGUSTUS HALFORD . I am manager for Mr. Montague Halford, ironmonger, of Cannon Street—I received the letter, dated 19th September, by post—I communicated with Mrs. Gannon, and received the letter of 20th September, 1876, in reply—on the 25th, the prisoner called at the ware-house, and produced an invoice from Watts & Co., of Manchester, and a letter which asked for an account to be opened with Mr. Henry Smith—the prisoner said he was Mr. Henry Smith's assistant—he bought some goods, and told me to send them to Windsor House, Slough—we have never been paid.
Cross-examined. You said that you had not been long enough in business to give references, but would produce invoices instead—I did not open the letter you brought and read it to you.
September, the prisoner called at our warehouse and selected goods—Halford sent him to my department; I have seen those goods at Slough—I also saw those twenty-four tickets—some of them are marks for the goods.'
ALFRED HUNT . I am a collector to the Great Western Railway—on 14th September, a parcel was delivered to Smiths'; the prisoner signed the book "C. W. S."—I also delivered goods on the 14th, 15th, 19th, and 26th, and 28th September, and 4th October, also on 19th October; the prisoner signed "C. Morgan" for them.
Cross-examined. I also saw a man about forty years of age at Slough, rather pitted with the small-pox—the signature might be "C. M.," or "C.W."
WILLIAM THOMAS HOLT (City Detective Officer). Acting under the directions of Sergeant Smith, I went to 3, Clifton Villas, Hanwell, on 20th October, and found the prisoner and an elderly female, who I understood to be his mother—knowing her, I said "Who is that man?"—she said "That is my husband's nephew, and his name is Morgan," loud enough for the prisoner to hear—I did not then observe any goods—I returned next evening with Detective Smith—I could not find my way to the station, and the prisoner offered his services—on the way, he said "Will you have a glass of ale?"—we went into a public-house; I had previously asked for Mr. Smith, the husband—at the public-house, I said I was not aware Mr. Smith had a son so old—he said "You've made a mistake; my aunt said nephew, and my name is Morgan; I work for Messrs. Smith, in Newgate Street; I lodge at times with my aunt"—he mentioned no number—he saw me into the train—I had no orders to take him into custody.
Cross-examined. I called again, because you said if your father came home you would let me know—I arrested you on the next Saturday.
Re-examined. I arrested him as he was leaving the house—he knew I was a detective; I had had his father in custody previously—I said my business was to enquire about a case in Paternoster Row.
By the Prisoner. The 20th of October, to the best of my belief, was not the first time I saw you.
WILLIAM SMITH (City Police Sergeant). I went to Windsor House, Slough, on 19th October—the place was closed, and a man named Watts was in possession—I entered, and seized the property; the weight was over two tons—I afterwards saw gentlemen in Messrs. Candy's employment who identified a quantity of the goods; I also saw Messrs. Hyam's people—I found the tickets in a room adjoining the shop; and these invoices, a billhead, and a memorandum with the printed address of Smith &Co., like the one produced—on the 21st, I went to Hanwell, where the prisoner was brought to me by Holt, who said "Here is Mr. Morgan"—I said "your name is not Morgan, it is Smith"—he made no reply—I said "You have absconded, I have a warrant for your arrest, and I charge you with obtaining goods from the City of London and Manchester"—I took him to the station, and went back to 3, Clifton Villas, where I found three large boxes packed and labelled "Hanwell to Paddington," and a quantity of wearing apparel—there was no name upon them—I have not seen Charles Smith since—Smith &Co. never carried on business in Newgate Street.
Cross-examined. I did not see you at Slough on the 19 th—I saw very little furniture in the house, only two chairs—there was no sleeping accommodation—I have not the labels; they were printed—Mr. Wyatt said that you were coming back, but you did not do so—I said that you had absconded.
ECCLES JAMES WYATT . I am clerk to Messrs. Lovering & Co., accountant—on 19th October, having received instructions, I went to Windsor House, Slough—Sergeant Smith came afterwards—I saw the prisoner—I asked for Mr. Smith—he (prisoner) said that he was not in Slough—he hesitated, but then said Mr. Smith was at Manchester, and he had not heard from him since Tuesday, but he was an assistant and had lived at Soper's, North Street, Brighton—he said he had not been there long; that he had lived also at Halliday's, of Birmingham—I saw Sergeant Smith at the station as I was leaving, about 4 o'clock—I left the prisoner in possession—he told me that he was going out to tea; I had no authority to stop him, and I went to tea also—I did not see him again till I saw him at the Mansion House.
Cross-examined. You said that your name was Moore—I told the man in possession to lock the door—the man Watts left me there while he went out and when I went I left him there with you—you told me you slept on the other side of the road.
JOHN SAMUEL SAUNDERS . I am a carrier, of Slough—I remember the Bazaar Company opening a shop—I was employed to take goods in parcels to the station two or three weeks afterwards, from half to three-quarters of a hundredweight in weight—I saw the prisoner every time—the parcels were put in the train with the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I did not see anyone else at the station accompanying you.
The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that he was an innocent tool in the hands of his father.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT—Friday, January 12th, 1877.
Before Mr. Baron Hawkins.
MR. DIXON conducted the Prosecution.
ANN PIKE . The prisoner is my husband—we kept the Kent coffee-house in Farnham Street, Limehouse—on the morning of 26th December, between 1.30 and 2 o'clock, I was asleep in bed, and my servant was sleeping by my side—my husband was in the parlour—he came into the room and gave me a blow in the eye, and said he would cut my b——bleeding throat—he then went downstairs and got a knife, and concealed it down his trousers—he then came up again to my room—I was still in bed—he put his left hand on my neck and drew the knife from his trowsers with his right hand, and I just felt the edge of the knife on my throat, and there is the scar—he just touched my throat with the knife, and he said "I am going to cut your b——bleeding throat"—that was the second time he made use of that expression—I pushed it off with my hand—he did not out my throat at all—there was a wound on my hand; there it is (sharing it)—that was done with the knife—he then went and sat in the parlour—I ran to the window and screamed "Murder," and ran downstairs, and went to the tap to pour cold water on the wound—I then ran to the street door and left it a little bit open, and stood by the door, and the prisoner came and pushed me right
out and shut the door and bolted it and put the chain on—he has threatened me hundreds of times before, for the last eight years; he was drunk for six years right off, never sober—he was very drunk on this night—he often said he meant to do for me, and if I stopped with him much longer he would.
By THE COURT. I had been in bed about half an hour—nothing had taken place between us before I went to bed—he had been out with me for a short distance—he was drunk when we went out—although the servant was sleeping with me we had lived together, but that was his style; he often sent the girl to bed with me; she had slept with me a fortnight before; that was for convenience—he has illtreated me many times and pulled my hair out—I gave the knife to the constable.
Prisoner. I have been a good husband to her for the last seventeen years. She tells a good many stories about me.
ALMA PIKE . I am the son of the prisoner and prosecutrix—on the night of 26th December I was in bed in the back room, next to that in which my mother slept—we all went to bed but my father, he kept up in the parlour I saw him going into my mother's bedroom, and I saw a knife down his trowsers, and I pulled it out and hid it—that was when he was going in a second time—I saw my mother bleeding—I heard a cry of murder—I heard my father say he meant to cut her head off—he was drunk—my mother had had a little, but she was not drunk—this (produced) is the knife I took from him.
CLARA WILLIAMS . I lived with the prisoner and prosecutrix as servant—on the night of 26th December I was in bed with the prosecutrix—I was suddenly awoke by a scream, and I saw my master strike my mistress in the eye with his hand, and I heard him say "I will cut her b——bleeding throat"—when he struck her again I pushed him back—I rushed out into the parlour—I afterwards saw her bleeding from the wrist—it appeared rather a deep wound—I have heard him threaten her before—this knife was in the kitchen—I did not see him when he brought the knife up; I had got out of bed and was in the front parlour because I was afraid—he was drunk—she was sober.
By THE COURT. It was three days after the occurrence that I took him—he was then sober—I have known him about two years and eight months—he was a packer in the service of Messrs Hibbert, of Limehouse, for twenty-five years I believe—I have not seen him given to drink; as far as I have seen he has been a well conducted man—I have had no complaints of him at the police-station.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I never intended to hurt her; it was never near her throat. I took it to frighten her. She was drunk. I had it under my coat, not under my trowsers."
Prisoner. It was on Christmas night when I struck her in the eye. She struck me in the bedroom with a boothook. I went upstairs again and said "See what you have done," showing her the blood on my finger. She said "Yes, do you want any more?" and I gave her a slap in the eye and said "Take that you saucy bitch."
The prisoner put in a written defence, repeating in substance his former statement, and alleging that his wife was violent and quarrelsome and frequently the worse for drink, and that he took the knife in order to frighten her, and net with any intention of injuring her.
ANN PIKE (re-examined). We have been married seventeen years—he was twenty-five years in the service of Messrs. Hibbert—he was in constant work with them—he left them last June, one of the masters died and the others retired, and they left him a legacy; he had been with them since he was a boy—he was a pretty steady workman under them; as long as he did his work right he did not care how I was treated at home—he went drunk to his work many times—I have often complained to the police outside the door—I never summonsed him before a Magistrate, because he said it was no use summonsing him, as sure as I did he would do for me—when not drunk he is a very disagreeable man, always grumbling, I never do anything right, he is continually quarrelling—I do not get drunk, I have never been seen drunk, but he always told me he would say so—I have never been a little so—I have often been out with him to public-houses—this occurred on the morning after Christmas Day—I had been at home that evening, I had only been out with him for half an hour at a public-house—he was drank before he went out, he got drunk at home—he was always quarrelling, I never quarrelled—he had no coat on—I did not go to the police till three days afterwards, I came home and tried him to see if he would be quiet—the police would have taken him that night but we could not get in—I got in the next night—he had never brought that knife up to me before; he has brought other knives; nobody has seen them—he went to my brother's the next night and told him he meant to cut my head off.
CLARA WILLIAMS (re-examined). I have never seen Mrs. Pike at all intoxicated—she was not at all intoxicated that night—I have seen this knife before and have used it many a time, it was kept in the kitchen—the prisoner has been in the habit of drinking a good bit ever since I have known him.
GUILTY on Second Count —Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his previous character— Judgment respited.
NEW COURT—Friday, January 12th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. ST. AUBYN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. PURCELL the Defence.
JAMES SMITH . I live at Rothsay, in Argyllshire, and command the ship Alpine, which is lying in the Commercial Docks—on 4th January I was with my wife in Gracechurch Street walking up and down waiting for a Rotherhithe omnibus—I had a gold watch and chain, value 25l.—when the omnibus came up the prisoner forced himself between me and my wife and then moved away—I found my watch chain hanging down but not broken.
Cross-examined. It was about 8.30, there were lots of people walking about—about two people got in before us, but I cannot tell how many were behind us—I was trying to keep the pressure from my wife.
WILLIAM SHEEN (City Policeman 756). On 4th January, about 9.15 p.m., I was on duty on the omnibus stand, Gracechurch Street—I saw the prisoner with four others following Smith and his wife—I watched them
and saw them pass a second and a third time, and then three of the men followed them down the street and the prisoner and another man fell back against a refreshment place, 56, Gracechurch Street—I went into a doorway, the other three men went into the road, the Rotherhithe omnibus turned round on to the stand, and Smith and his wife came up—the prisoner said to another one "Come on, now then," and made towards the omnibus—Smith and his wife were at the door of it, and as they were about to get in, the other three men forced the people this way, and the prisoner got between Smith and his wife, as if he was going to get into the omnibus, but he turned round and faced Smith, and I saw his hand against Smith's waistcoat; another man with a coat on his arm was covering him—those two left together, they did not get in—I followed them and put the prisoner on his back and afterwards took him to the station, but found nothing on him—the other one got away.
Cross-examined. It is an omnibus stand; other omnibuses came up—I was in uniform—there is nothing unusual in walking about if you are waiting for an omnibus—it was not daylight—this was not the last omnibus—the confectioner's was closed, but the shutters are never up—the gas was alight.
GEORGE MOLE . I am omnibus attendant at Gracechurch Street—at 8.45 on this evening I saw the prisoner and four others there—the Rotherhithe omnibus came up and the prisoner pushed between the prosecutor and his wife in getting in, and I saw him take a watch from the prosecutor's left-hand waistcoat pocket—I told the officer to stop him and he did so.
Cross-examined. I was about 4-feet from the prisoner—I saw the watch.
GUILTY —He was further charged with a previous conviction, at Clerkenwell, in February, 1875, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Judgment Respited.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
PHILIP SIDNEY CONRON . I am a brewer, of Teddington—on 30th November I saw an advertisement in the "Daily Telegraph," and between 1 and 2 o'clock on that afternoon I went with my partner to the place indicated, the Old Catherine Wheel stables, where we saw the prisoner and were shown a horse which the prisoner said was for sale and he walked it up and down the yard—he said that it belonged to his master, Mr. Shaw, of Walthamston, who had no further use for it, and he was authorised to sell it; that it was a hunter and was sound, and just the sort of horse which would suit a dog cart or to ride—the price was 45l.—I asked for a trial; he said "Yes, you can have a trial if you like"—I went away to Long Acre and bought a dog cart, and returned to the Old Catherine Wheel about 9 o'clock, and asked the prisoner if I could have the horse; he said "Yes"—I said that I had no harness; he said that he would lend me some, but he should have to go to Walthamstow for it by train—I saw him start in a pony cart; he was away an hour and a quarter and brought the harness back—while the horse was being harnessed he called me on one side and said that as I was a complete stranger to him and he to me he could not allow me to take away a valuable horse like that without having the value left—I said "I will let you have the money, but I must" have an
agreement signed for the horse for three days"—I then drew up this agreement; he signed it and I gave him a cheque—ray partner said that I had better cross it, but the prisoner said that something would have to come out of it to pay the livery stables, but that he would not cash it till the expiration of the three days; I said "That will do just as well"—on a corner of the agreement I put "Harness to be returned" and my initials—I drove the horse to Hampstead, and my partner went with me as far as Westminster Bridge—I noticed that the horse was going a little stiff bat thought it was on account of his being in the stable five months and being fed with soft food—I drove to Hampstead and put him up and next morning I drove him to Brixton—when 1 got over Westminster Bridge he was very lame, and my friend took the reins and said that I had better take the horse to a farrier—I pulled up at a telegraph office and stopped the cheque and also telegraphed to the prisoner—I took the horse to Mr. Balls, a veterinary surgeon, and left him there, as he was too lame to go any further—it was about 9.30 when I telegraphed to the Newington branch of the London and County Bank—I went to the Old Catherine Wheel between 11 and 12 o'clock, but did not find the prisoner—I went again about 3 o'clock but could not get any information about him—I employed a detective, Wright, who apprehended him, and on Monday the 6th, I gave him in custody at a public-house in Bishopsgate Street—he said that he could not understand the horse going lame, as he had sold him four months before to a clergyman for 65l. as the horse was a roarer, and if I had got on his back then I should have found that he was a roarer, but he thought he had got all right again—I am accustomed to horses in my business and on the road occasionally—I attended the police-court next day and the case was remanded for a few days—the prisoner came to me two days after wards and said that he was very sorry for what had taken place, that he did not wish the case to go any further as he was a poor man and could not afford to be prosecuted, and would I arrange it—I said "If you pay me the money I paid for the horse and my solicitor's expenses I will arrange it;" not knowing that it was not in my power to do so—he gave me 45l. and 10l. for expenses, and I gave him this written order to Mr. Balls to release the horse—he asked me to give him a letter saying that I would not prosecute further, and I did so—I did not appear on the remand, and I was afterwards summonsed and the prisoner was committed—this is the cheque I gave him, it came back through my bankers, paid—I would not have parted with it if I had not believed the representations the prisoner made—I gave it to him because he said that his master would not trust the horse to me unless he got the 45l.
Cross-examined. I believed that he was coachman to Mr. Shaw, and that had something to do with my parting with the cheque—I had bought about seven horses before this one—I do not hunt—I do not think that a hunter doing very well for a dog cart was a little incongruous—he said that his master had no work for him and kept him five months on soft food—he attempted to trot the horse, but the yard was so rough that he walked him, and I thought that the three days' trial would do as well as seeing him trotted—I did not go to the Catherine Wheel on the Saturday morning—he said "I have something to draw from the cheque so make it an open cheque"—he did not say that it was for the horses keep.
By the JURY. He said on the day after the expiration of the three days' trial, that he had the money and would return it—I had Friday Saturday,
and Sunday to try it, and when I met him on the Monday, he was willing to return it, but that was after I had given him in custody.
Re-examined. He did not return the money until after the case had been remanded, he gave it me on the 6 th. (The agreement, and the order to deliver the horse to the prisoner were put in and read, and the agreement stated: "In the event of the horse not being approved of after three days' trial the money is to be returned. F. Shalders.")
WILLIAM WRIGHT (City Detective). On Monday evening, December 4th, I went with Mr. Conron to the Duke's Head, Norton Folgate, and saw the prisoner there—Mr. Conron gave him into my custody, and he asked me if I had a warrant for his arrest—I said "No," and he said that he should not go—I told him he was in custody and would have to go with me to the station-house—he said "What are the false pretences?"—I said "Representing yourself to be coachman to Mr. Shaw, of Walthamstow"—he said "I did not say it"—I then took him to the station, and he was charged and said that he thought the horse had got well and was going on all right—he also said that he had previously sold it to a clergyman for 65l.—on Friday, 8th December, I went to Walthamstow, and endeavoured to find Mr. Shaw, I made inquiries at the police-station, the post-office, and several public-houses and shops, and also referred to directories, and I have been, a second time and made further inquiries, but can find no such person.
Cross-examined. I took him at 9.30 p.m., at the Duke's Head, Norton Folgate, that is not quarter of a mile from Bishopsgate Street—the Catherine Wheel, is next door to the police-station.
HENRY MELVILLE MILLER . I am a clerk in the London and County Bank, Newington Butts Branch—Conron and Stringer have an account there—the prisoner presented this cheque on 1st December, about 9.15 a.m., and it was paid in notes and gold—the bank opened at 9 o'clock—we shortly afterwards received a telegram from the prosecutor, but it was too late. George Balls. I am a veterinary surgeon at Brixton—on 1st December, this horse was brought there; I examined it, it was very lame in the off fore leg, and after he had stopped a few minutes he was so lame that he could not be removed and remained at ray place—it looked like recent lameness it was so bad—I thought he had picked up a nail, but I afterwards formed the opinion that it was chronic—it was a very useful animal in other respects, and a good looking horse—it had not got over the lameness when I delivered it up in consequence of this letter, but it was much better.
Cross-examined. It was delivered to the prisoner—I have known a horse to be made very lame by catching the cog of his shoe in a tramway rail, a twist or a strain would cause the lameness.
NOT GUILTY .
181. CHARLES SHELLY (19), JOSEPH ANDERSON (19), and JAMES SHEEHAN (18) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Samuel Ford, and stealing a coat, three pieces of bacon, and 5s., his property.
MR. DALTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FULTON the Defence.
JOHN SAMUEL FORD . I keep a general shop at 17, Ferdinand Place, Camden Town—on Sunday afternoon, 17th December, I left my premises safe at 3 o'clock, and saw Sheehan just outside—I returned about 1 o'clock on Monday morning and saw the side door open—I went in and saw the
bacon strewed about and missed three pieces—I then went upstairs and missed an overcoat from the back room and some money from the back parlour mantelpiece—all those things were safe when I left.
Cross-examined. Ferdinand Place is pretty populous, and there would be a good many people about on Sunday afternoon—I knew Sheehan before, he is always about there—I noticed him because he said "Halloo, John"—he lives in the next street—I was surprised at his speaking to me, because I never speak to him.
DEBORAH SMITHSON . I am seventeen years old and live three doors from Mr. Ford—on Sunday, 17th December, about 7 o'clock, I went out with Annie Berry to Holloway, and returned about 9 o'clock, and when we were in Fernand Street we went over to the North Western public-house and had a pint of ale, two or three lads came in and then Sheehan came in—we came out to the top of Ferdinand Place, and Sheehan and two others followed, but I did not see Shelley or Anderson—we were going home and they prevented our going down Ferdinand Place—we both ran away, and he chased us down the court—after Berry got in I ran down Chalk Farm Road into Fernand Street and got into Sussex Street, from where I could see Mr. Ford's shop, and saw Sheehan kicking the door, and Shelly pushing it with his hands, and Anderson standing at the public-house opposite with his hands in his pockets looking to see there was nobody coming—I saw the door opened, Sheehan went in and Shelly followed him in—I then went past the house to my own door, and then saw shelly come out with something in his hands, I do not know what—he gave it to Anderson who put it into his pocket and laughed—I told my mother next morning and she went to Mr. Ford.
Cross-examined. It was 10.25 when they were breaking in, and we had the beer about 9.30—we did not have the beer with Sheehan, we had it by our two selves—there is a passage running from Sussex Place into Ferdinand Place, opposite Mr. Ford's shop—I noticed nobody about only the four lads, me, and Barry—Ferdinand Place is a thoroughfare—I was about 20 yards off when I saw them breaking the door—we were larking at the public-house—when Sheehan prevented my going down Ferdinand Place I went round by Chalk Farm Road, which took me about a quarter of an hour, and I did not walk quick—people were walking in Ferdinand Street when we were prevented from going down it.
By THE COURT. There were a large number of people in Chalk Farm Road and Fernand Street—Fernand and Ferdinand are different—I had known Sheehan before about there, his parents lived near us six months ago, but he does not live in the street—when I saw the boys kicking at the door I thought the shop was afire and that they were breaking in—it occurred to me to tell the police and I went to a public-house, but I was frightened, because as I passed, Anderson said to me "What's your darken?"—I did not go inside the public-house because I had no reason to go in—I did not tell anybody about it till next morning, I did not tell my mother because she was in bed and asleep and my father also—I got in with a key—I told my mother next morning before I had been out.
Re-examined. I should not expect to find a policeman inside a public house.
ANNIE BERRY . I am seventeen years old and live at 23, Ferdinand Place—I have known Shelly and Sheehan about four years, and I know Anderson by sight—on this Sunday I went to Holloway with the last witness—we
got back about 8 o'clock and went to the North Western public-house—I saw Sheehan there and two others who are in Court, he came out with us and he and Smithson began running about—there were two other boys with Smithson and Sheehan—I left them at the top of the court about 10.30—I did not see Shelly or Anderson.
Cross-examined. I did not see the boys kicking the door.
MARIA MORAN . I am a widow and have lived at 16, Ferdinand Place twenty-seven years—on this Sunday night at 10 o'clock I was in bed and something struck my widow, which faces Ford's shop—I looked out and saw three lads; Shelly was one of them—two of them had their backs against the shutters of an empty house by Mr. Ford's private door—I watched them a little time and then went to bed, that was a little past 10 o'clock.
Cross-examined. They were only standing talking.
ANDREW MOBAN . I am a son of the last witness and live with her—on this Sunday night I was at the top of Ferdinand Court, about 11.45, as as near as I can guess, and saw Sheehan, Shelly, and a third lad come up the court together, towards me and towards Ferdinand Street; that is towards Mr. Ford's.
Cross-examined. It was not unusual to see them about there, and sometimes the lads will not allow people to pass.
ALFRED ALLCOCK (Detective officer Y). From information I received I found the three prisoners sleeping in Mr. Camp's hay loft in Ferdinand Place on Monday evening, 18th December—Darkie is Anderson's nickname, and I said "Darkie, I shall take you in custody for being concerned with Sheehan and Shelly in breaking into Mr. Ford's shop, 17, Ferdinand Place"—he said "I know nothing at all about it"—I said to Sheehan "I shall take you in custody for being along with Anderson on Sunday evening and breaking into Mr. Ford's shop and stealing an overcoat, some bacon, and 5s. in coppers"—he he said "You have made a mistake, my name is not Sheehan, my name is Chalk"—Shelly said "My name is not Shelly"—they said that they were not there—I took them to the station.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Shelly says: "From 3.30 to 3.45 I was with a person who works for Mr. Camp, at his house, 35, Ferdinand Place. I remained there till 11.15 at night, at Mr. Haley's place." Anderson says: "I was up in the same house till 11.15 on the same night." Sheehan says: "I left the witness Smithson at 10.45. on" that Sunday night. He went indoors and I walked down Chalk Farm Road a little way. When I came back I came down Harwood Street, through this court, and I met the other two prisoners coming out of this house, and I walked up to Ferdinand Street, that is my way home, with them, and I met Moran and the other three, and I said good-night to them. I left these other two and went indoors."
Witnesses for Shelly and Anderson.
WILLIAM HALEY . I know Shelly—on Sunday, 17th December, he was down our yard, where we keep cows, in Ferdinand Place, all the morning—he left between 3 and 4 o'clock—he and Anderson generally give me 1s. 6d. each for their dinner and tea on Sunday—I have my dinner about 3.30 in
the afternoon—they came back again about 3.30 or 4 o'clock and did not not go out till 11 o'clock—they had their dinner and it was 4.30 when we had done—I had my tea from 6 to 7 o'clock; as I have not time before because we milk the cows—they were reading the paper all that time, and I was in the same room with them—about 11 o'clock my mistress said "It is getting late, we must go to bed," and they left—I am sure they did not leave my room from 3 to 11.30—I have a clock and it went 11 o'clock, which was the reason they left.
Cross-examined. I laid down, but did not take my things off; I just laid my head down; my mistress was reading alongside of me by the fire—I did not go to sleep at 8 o'clock—Mr. Ford's shop is at the top of the street.
By THE COURT. I was not examined before the Magistrate—I heard of the boys being taken, and my mistress told me to go and speak for them, but I did not because I did not think they would want me—Shelley has worked at our place on and off for three or four months—I have only been there four months—he was working there nine or ten days before this Sunday—when he wanted money he used to come—the policeman Allcock came down the road and said "I want to put a few questions to you and want you to answer," and he asked me if I knew the prisoners' names—I said "Yes"—he said "Were they up at your place?"—I said "Yes"—he said "What time did they go away?"—I said "11 o'clock," and he asked my mistress the same—he asked what time I went to bed—I said "I always lay my head down after I have done my dinner, but I did not go to sleep because my mistress was reading the paper—I did not go to sleep before 11 o'clock.
Q. Did you tell the policeman that you went to bed at 8 o'clock? A. I told him I laid down with my head on the pillow—I did not take my things off till 11 o'clock, when my mistress and I went to bed—my mistress is here.
ALFRED ALLCOCK (re-examined). The prisoners stated at the police-court I that they were at Haley's house—I went to make inquiries of Haley, and he told me the same story, but I asked him what time he went to bed, and he said "8 o'clock."
182. WILLIAM WOOD (32) , Unlawfully conspiring with Henry Turner to induce James Burgess to take the said Henry Turner into his employ as barman. Forty-nine other Counts, varying the manner of laying the charge.
MESSRS. BESLEY and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MEAD the Defence.
JAMES MILES . I keep the White Lion Hotel, Beccles, Suffolk—I kept the White Horse, Long Acre, up to 21st June last, when it was transferred to the prisoner—I employed no barman there, and only one potman—I had three barmaids—I never had a barman named Henry Turner.
Cross-examined. If a potman behaves himself he is sometimes promoted to the post of barman—I bad the throe barmaids successively—I do not recollect all their names, but Miss Ratley was one—she was last employed in Oxford Street, but I have not seen her for a considerable time—I have never seen Annie Harrison.
JAMES BURGESS . I keep the D'Oyley Arms, Marlborough Road, Chelses—on 17th July I wanted a barman, and on that evening a man calling himself Henry Turner, who I had written to, came, and in consequence of what
he said I Went the same evening to the prisoner at the White Horse—he was a stranger to me—I told him that Henry Turner had represented that he lived with him four months and that he had been nine months with the former landlord to Mr. Wood—Wood said that it was quite correct, and that he parted with him because he had not enough employment for him, and he said "Look at my face; he was too much of a man for me"—I questioned him about his honesty, and he said that I might give him a trial with perfect satisfaction—Turner entered my service on the evening of 19th July and absconded on 14th August—after he came I was very short of money every day, and on the day he left I called on Wood and said that I was not at all satisfied with the man he had sent me, and I believed he was robbing me—he said that he should be very pleased to help me if I caught him robbing me—I left Wood's soon after 3 o'clock, and when I got home Turner was gone—Wood called next day, and I. told him that the thief was gone; he said "Anything I can bring to help you I will do; in fact, I should like to punch his head"—he only left behind him two pairs of boots, a bag, and a pair of socks, which he has never come for.
Cross-examined. I was not out for a holiday while he was with me, but I was compelled to go out on 19th August, and went to Wood at the same time—I was at Deptford, but did not see Turner there—I took no notes of what Wood said, I rely on my memory; he was very friendly—I made mistake at Bow Street, and said that I had seen Turner at Greenwich police-court, that was a perfect mistake in identity.
ALFRED JACKSON . I keep the Prince Albert, Regent's Park—on 19th August, I advertised for a barman, and a person called giving his name William Laurence—that is the man (in custody)—in consequence of a communication he made to me, I went, on 21st August, to Mr. Wood, at the White Hart, Long Acre; I told him that William Laurence had applied to me in reference to my advertisement, and told me that he was in his service seven months, and had left last Thursday—he said "That is quite correct"—I asked his reason for leaving, he said that he could not afford to keep so good a man and strongly advised me to give him a trial, as he was sure he would suit, as he was one of the best men be ever had, and a very smart barman—I told him that I had a rushing trade—Laurence came into my service about 6.15, on the 23rd—I had examined my tills about 6 o'clock, and when 1 examined them again I found a serious deficiency—after 9 o'clock, I noticed two entire strangers in front of the bar—I watched Laurence that night; and the next day I never left him up to 3 o'clock—I sent the other persons out of the bar, and left Laurence quite alone; I marked two half-crowns with a punch, and marked several other coins, and had them passed over the counter, and at 4 o'clock I asked a brother public can to come in and examine the till, so that I should not touch them, and we missed three marked coins which I had seen put into the till while Laurence was there alone—I then sent for Laurence, and dismissed him summarily—I was at Greenwich police-court when he was charged with stealing 10s.—he was in my service altogether twenty-two hours.
Cross-examined. Mr. Harvey, of the Bell and Crown, passed the two half-crowns for me over the counter—I could not see the mark on them—he is not here—Mr. Stone also saw them passed over—it is remarkable for two strangers to be at a public-house if they are waiting at the corner and always asking for small articles, and are always served by one man.
a barman in September—Laurence applied to me, and I went to Wood at at the White Horse, Long Acre, on 13th September, and asked him how long Laurence had been living with him; he said between six and seven months—I asked him if he could recommended him as a good man; he said "Yes," and that he left because he wanted more wages, which he could not afford to give him—I asked him if he was honest; he said "Yes"—I told him I should give Laurence a trial as I thought his references were satisfactory; and I did engage him—he entered into my service the next day, 14th September, and was there four weeks and five days, when I gave him in custody, and a half sovereign which I had marked was found on him—he was taken before Mr. Pattison, the Magistrate, and I saw Wood there.
HENRY CHAPMAN . I am a warder of Maidstone County Prison—I have brought Laurence up on a. Judge's order—I produce a copy of his commitment upon which I have had him in custody since 20th October. (This was a certificate of the commitment of William Laurence, who pleaded guilty, on 17th October, to stealing a half sovereign of Benjamin Brawn, his Toaster, and was sentenced to Six Months' Imprisonment in Maidstone Goal)
THOMAS WALTON . I keep the Victoria, King Street, Snow Hill—I wanted a barmaid, answered an advertisement, and a person named Annie Harrison called on me—in consequence of what she said I went to the White Hart, Long Acre, on 23rd October, and saw the prisoner—I told him that she had stated that she lived with him nine months and was leaving on her own account as he was not paying her sufficient wages—he said that it was correct, she was an excellent barmaid, but he could not afford to give her more—she came to me on 26th October, and on Sunday, 5th November, which was her day out, she went out and never returned—on the Friday after she left, Wood called and asked me where the young person was, and from his manner I could see that he knew perfectly well—I said that she had left; he said "What for?"—I said "I do not think it necessary that I should—explain to you," and that was all that passed—she left a box behind her with scarcely anything in it; she applied for it afterwards and I allowed her to take it away.
CHARLES CANN . I keep the Lyceum Tavern, 356, Strand—on 14th November I was in want of a barmaid, answered an advertisement, and Annie Harrison called—I afterwards went and saw Mr. Wood, at the White Horse, Long Acre, and asked him if she was honest and sober—he said "Certainly, or I should not kept her nine months"—I said "Is she attentive to business?" he said "Very"—I said "That is quite sufficient, and upon that I engaged her—she was in his bar at the time and 1 called her to me and said "You can come on Thursday evening," and she came on Thursday, 16th November, and remained till the following Thursday afternoon, when I discharged her for intoxication—before I discharged her I saw Wood and complained to him of his giving me such a character and said that she had not been sober one hour since she had been with me—he said that he was exceedingly sorry to hear it, and on the following Tuesday he called on me and 1 told him that I was compelled to discharge her as she was so intoxicated—his character of her was so straightforward that I did not watch the takings.
HARRY MARNER . I keep the Champion, Wells Street, Oxford Street—I wanted a barman in September, and Charles Stevens called, on me, and I went to the prisoner's house in Long Acre, but did not speak to him then as he was so drunk, but I went again another day and asked him how long Stevens had been with him—he said "Eight months"—I told him that Stevens said that it was eight weeks—he said "Yes, that is quite correct," and that he had left him about a week before—I asked him if he was honest, sober, quick, and industrious—he said "Yes," and I engaged Stevens, who came on the Thursday, and left on the Monday—I watched him and saw him pass money over the bar to some men who I did not know and I missed a half-crown—the men put down a 6d., and I saw Stevens give them a larger sum in change—I called him into the bar on the Monday morning, and said "There is a week's salary, you can go"—he said "What for?"—I said I shall not tell you—he said "I should like very much to know"—I said "You know very well"—about fourteen days after he left me I saw him at Mrs. Scott's at Bayswater.
Cross-examined. I have been a licensed victualler for nine years, and never had to prosecute or discharge a barman for dishonesty.
ELIZABETH ALICE SCOTT . I keep the Ladbrook Hotel, Notting Hill—I answered an advertisement in September, and Charles Stevens came to me, in consequence of which I saw Mr. Wood, who I did not know, and said that Charles Stevens had called on me in reference to a situation as barman, and that I wanted a confidential man, as, being a widow, I had to place great confidence in him, and to trust the cellar to him, and asked if he was trustworthy—he said "Yes"—I asked if he was honest and sober—he said "Thoroughly so"—I asked how long he had been with him, he said "Eight months"—I said "That is what he told me"—I said "How long is he supposed to have left, three weeks?"—he said "Yes"—that was 19th September, and Stevens entered my service on the 20th.
Cross-examined. Wood told me that he was sorry to part with Stevens, but he wanted more wages.
SARAH CHAMBERLAIN . My husband keeps the Mitre, at Notting Hill—about March, 1876, I took a barman named Hockley; there was a barman named Silver—that is him. (Pointing him out.)—I only knew him as Henry; he was with me till about June, I think—something was said to me by a licensed victualler, and I required Bell, the detective, to come to my house, and next morning, Silver was discharged—afterwards, about 22nd August, Wood came and said that he had come for a reference for a man named Silver, giving me his card—I asked him if Silver knew he was coming, he said that he had told his confidential barmaid that he was coming, and no doubt she would tell him—I told Wood that if Silver had any idea he was coming for a reference he would not find him there when he went back—he said that through being laid up he had not had an opportunity of coming to see for his character, but that Silver had lived with him six years ago, and he had not seen him since—I had not told him anything about Bell, but I think I must have done so then because I received a letter, and Mr. Bell came to satisfy us that he was the man—Wood said that he should not,
keep him in his employ; I told Wood nothing about the takings, but I said that I had seen money on one occasion passed over the bar by Silver; I meant in the way of change, and next day or the day after I spoke to Mr. Oakley about it.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether the money was passed to a pensioner—I do not know his name, or where to find him.
JAMES HEBERT . I am manager to Mrs. Crux, of the Albany Tavern Regent's Park—on 29th or 30th September, I made an appointment to meet Silver, and from what he told me, I went to Wood on 30th September, and told him that Silver said that he had lived with Wood for eight or ten months, and was leaving because he had not sufficient salary, it was only 16s.—Wood said that he was a very good servant, and that that was true—I asked him if he was thoroughly honest and sober—he said "Yes;" and that he had never had occasion to doubt it; he recommended him as a very able man, and he thought if I gave him a trial he would suit me very well—I took him into my service on 3rd October, and he remained till 11th December.
Cross-examined. I was very well satisfied with him while he was with me.
ROBERT BELL . I produce Mr. Evershed's certificate of Silver's conviction, (Read: October 23rd, Frederick Silver, convicted at Brighton of stealing 18s. 6d., of Mr. Mellison, his master, and sentenced to fifteen months' imprisonment.) I was employed by the Commissioners of Police, and actually saw Silver employed at Mellison's, behind the Grand Stand, as barman—a large sum was found upon Silver—I had nothing to do with informing Mrs. Chamberlain that she had Stevens in her service—I was afterwards compelled to go to see whether he was the same man—after Wood was in custody on this charge, I made the discovery that he had given a character to Mrs. Crux, and I went to her after there had been three or four remands. John Bowler. I keep the Custom House Hotel, Victoria Docks—I replied to an advertisement in the "Morning Advertiser," and the man Reynolds came to me, and in consequence of a conversation with him I went to Wood at the White Horse, about the beginning of August, 1876, and told him that Reynolds had applied to me for a barman's situation, and asked if he had been with him and how long—Wood said that he had been with him six or eight months, speaking from memory only—I asked him if he was honest and sober—he said that he was a good barman and would work well and was honest, but that he had left him as he wanted more wages—I have kept Reynolds, he is in my employ now.
Cross-examined. I am perfectly satisfied with Reynolds, I have no reason to doubt him, but it makes me unhappy and uncomfortable—I do not wish to do him an injustice.
ROBERT REYNOLDS . I am barman to Mr. Bowler—about seven weeks before Christmas, 1875, I lived in Mr. Haley's employment at the Three Colts, Lewisham—the only reason of my leaving was a complaint about a female servant—I did refer to Mr. Haley, but I could not get a situation and remained out of employ till July, 1876—I then met a man who I knew as Bill, who hawks poultry, and in consequence of what he said I went to Mr. Wood, at the White Horse, Long Acre—I did not know him before and I only saw him twice in another party's company—I told him I was hard up, and asked him to assist me—he said that if I would like to come and knock about there for two or three weeks he would assist me to
get another situation—I was living at Limehouse, and I went to Mr. Wood's three, four, or five days in the week—I did not serve in the bar—I was only paid what he liked to give me—after I had advertised I did not see Mr. Wood before Mr. Bowler saw him—I was not present when Bowler spoke to Wood—when I was sitting in the bar I heard Turner's name mentioned, and I said "Mr. Wood, are you giving Turner a character?"—he said that he was not—I know Turner well by description and have taken steps to find him for over six weeks, but have not been able.
WILLIAM JOHN PICKLING . I keep the King's Arms, Cremorne Road, Chelsea—I answered an advertisement in October last, and a young man named Otway called on me—I went the same evening to the prisoner's house and told him that Otway said that he had been with him nine months, four months at the White florae and five months at a former house, and asked him if that was correct—he said "Yes"—I asked him if Otway was honest—he said that he had no reason to doubt it, that he was a good barman, and he did not know the reason he left—I wrote to Otway and he came to me on 5th August and remained till the 10th, when he absconded, leaving behind him two shirts, a night shirt, and a black bag,—I missed a half sovereign from the change and about 50 cigars—Wood called on me, it might have been a week afterwards, and I said "A pretty barman you sent me," and told him that he had absconded and left some things behind him—he said that he was very sorry to hear it and as soon as he saw him he would tell him about it.
BRUCE GOLDIE . I am manager and cashier to. Matthews & Canning, brewers—they had an interest in the Conquering Hero, Peckham—Wood came there as a tenant on 8th November, 1875, and left on 26th April, 1876.
WALTER MITCHELL . I am a grainer, of Upper Park Road, Peckham, and am in the habit of using the Conquering Hero constantly—Wood employed me to do some repairs and alterations there, and I was there nearly all day—I saw no barman or barmaid there, Mr. and Mrs. Wood served behind the bar.
Cross-examined. I was not employed there six months, but I was a customer there to see a bird fancier—I am a bird fancier, but that is only for a hobby—I have never been charged with deserting my wife and family, but my wife has been away from me two or three times—Inspector Greenfield and a gentleman asked me to come here—I cannot give you the date—I did not write to the prosecutor—the house is near where I lived.
MARY MILLIAN . I now live with a sister-in-law of Mr. Wood—I was his cook and housekeeper at the White Horse until he was taken in custody—I do not know Turner, Stevens, Laurence, Otway, or Reynolds by those names—Laurence was not employed as barman while I was there—I have seen Silver there, but not serving in the bar—I have seen Reynolds come to the houses—I never went by the name of Annie Harrison, but I have seen a young person there whose name I do not know—no person was employed in Wood's service for nine months before October—I was at the Conquering Hero also.
Cross-examined. My duties were not at the bar, but I have served there in an emergency. Henry Morris. I am now potman at the Occidental Hotel, Strand—I
was potman to the prisoner at the White Horse from June to 23rd September—there was no barman there during that time, nor any barmaid, but the last witness—I do not know the name of the potman who succeeded me, he was a little boy—I should know him by sight—I used the house afterwards—after the little boy there was a cudgel—headed fellow, I do not know his name, and then came William Stone.
Cross-examined. I have seen Reynolds there, but not assisting Mr. Wood-Silver sometimes used the house.
WILLIAM STONE . I lived at the Rum Puncheon, Milton Street, Holborn, when I was examined—I am now out of a situation—I was potman to the prisoner at the White Horse, from the end of September, until the change took place—that was after he was taken in custody—during the whole time I was there no barman was kept in the house, but George Bowyer served there occasionally—I know Turner and Stevens coming to the house as customers—I did not see Silver that I am aware of—Annie Harrison was not there as barmaid.
JAMES COLLINS . I live at 12, King Street, Drury Lane—for thirty years I have minded horses for the market gardeners at Covent Garden Market, and have been in the habit of using the White Horse three times a week—I did so during the time Wood was there, but never saw a barman or barmaid.
JAMES STONE . I am not related to the other witness Stone, I am a fruiterer and greengrocer, and am in the habit of standing with my van nearly opposite the White Horse, from the time it opens till 8 or 9 o'clock a.m.—that is their busiest time; I was in the habit of leaving my whip there in Mr. Mill's time, and after in Wood's time every market morning—I never saw a barman serving there in Wood's time, only Mary Million and Mr. Wood, and an old man who was lame.
Cross-examined. The old man served behind the counter, the house opens from 5 o'clock one morning till 1 o'clock the next morning.
FREDERICK GREENFIELD (re-examined). I took the prisoner on a warrant on 22nd November, I know the old man mentioned by Stone, but cannot tell you his name, he has been there some weeks—he is not Turner, Laurence, Otway, Stevens, or Reynolds.
Cross-examined. I know all those persons, I have not seen Turner, but I know by the description that it was not Turner.
This being the case for the prosecution, MR. MEAD submitted that there was no proof of conspiracy, and that no overt act had been proved that the conspiracy was with different persons, or that the persons who applied for the situation made false statements. MR. BESLEY asked leave to re-call further evidence in which THE COURT, after consulting MR. BARON HAWKINS, concurred.
FREDERIC SILVER I left Mr. Chamberlain's, the Mitre Tavern, in May last year, I think, or before—I applied for the situation of Mrs. Mary Crux, the Albany Tavern, Regent's Park, I understood that Hebert was manager to her, I advertised and he wrote to me, and I saw him in the City; I went into her employ a few days after that, on 23rd October—I had not been in a situation in the interval between leaving Chamberlain's and going to Mr. Crux's, but I had been on and off at Wood's two or three months before I saw Hebert—sometimes I was in the cellar, and sometimes if Wood was drunk he used to lay his legs against the door and I could not get out—he paid me about 3l. for my services, or it might be a little over; I said "You had better have a settlement," and he gave me go much, but I was not a regular servant—sometimes he gave me money
overnight, and sometimes weekly—that was all that I did, I could have bad another berth now if it had not been for this case—when I saw Hebert he asked me where I had been living, I said I had been eight or nine months with Mr. Wood, of the White Horse, Long Acre, as barman and cellarman.
By THE COURT. I had told Wood that I was going to apply for a place, I had a letter and went and saw Mr. Hebert, and I told Wood a gentleman was coming for my character, but I had not told him before that I was going to Mr. Hebert.
WILLIAM LAURENCE . I have come from Maidstone—previous to my going to Mr. Jackson's at the Prince Albert, Regent's Park, I had not been in any employment—I do not know the date that I was barman at Winter's, but if he says that it was from 4th March till 9th June I believe it is correct—I was in service at Hoxton before that, but only a month and a few days—after I left Winter's on 7th June I went to and fro to Wood's, I knew him previously—I know he was not there till 21st June—between 21st June and 11st August I mostly went up every morning at 9 or 10 o'clock and got home in the evening at 5 or 6 o'clock—I did not wear an apron, nor did I serve, or get weekly wages, but he gave money at times, sometimes he gave me 2s. 6d. of a night and sometimes 2s., he has never given me a character before—I used to clean boots and knives and forks and sweep out the bar—I saw Mary Millian there, and she must have seen me—I had no set wages—I advertised for a situation—I told Wood I was going to do so, and asked him to assist me, and he said "Yes"—I saw Alfred Jackson, but I cannot say the date; I gave him his own letter, which was a reply to my advertisement—I told him I had been living at Wood's, at the White Horse, in Long Acre, as barman—I was not at Wood's when Jackson called there—when I received the letter from Jackson I went to Wood and thanked him for his kindness in giving me a reference to Jackson—it is true I left on the next day, August 22nd, having been there twenty-two hours, I do not know what for—I saw Wood three or four days after and told him I had left, and I went to and fro to Wood's occasionally—I then advertised again with different initials, and Mr. Brown answered me, from the Black Horse, Deptford—I went and saw him—he asked me where I had been living—I told him at Wood's, Long Acre, as barman, for six or seven months, but I never mentioned Jackson's name—he asked me what wages I wanted and told me what he was going to give—I did not see Wood till after Mr. Brown had seen him—I then told him I had got Brown's situation—he said he thought Brown seemed a very nice man—I remained with Brown until I pleaded guilty at the police-court; I heard that Wood came to the police-court, but I did not see him, I heard his name called.
Cross-examined. I have known him three or four years; I knew him at the public-house he had before this one, but did not help him there—I believe I was honest, I did not steal his money, or cheat him; I believe I always behaved honestly.
By THE JURY. I did not pay Wood anything after he gave me this character; he never asked me for anything, he never mentioned such a thing.
GUILTY (See page 398).
FOURTH COURT—Friday, January 12th, 1877.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. J. P. GRAIN the Defence
FRANCIS FREDERICK DEANE repeated his former evidence (page 290) and added: I discounted a bill dated 19th February, at two months, drawn and endorsed by W. Williams, 13, York Cottages, Charlton—the prisoner represented himself to be in a large way of business—I discounted other bills which were all dishonoured—I inquired about the prisoner at Messrs. Rotherham's, wholesale drapers, who thought they were supplying goods to Williams—I did not know that his real name was Taylor.
Cross-examined. I have been a builder for twenty years—I keep a private loan office in Gossett Street, Bethnal Green—I commenced these bill transactions about the middle of 1875—I do not know the amount of bills that I have discounted for Williams—I have not received nearly 3,000l. in bills from Taylor—he may have paid me 1,000l.—I have kept no account of the bills I discounted—they were bills of men I well knew—I charged 8d. for two months—the signatures on the cheques produced are not all for bills—those signatures are in the prisoner's writing except one—he said that he thought the rate of interest reasonable—Mr. Graham said "I know the man to be a respectable man"—I believed him to be so—I proved my debt for the bills—I did not offer to take 450l. in settlement—I know that a wife cannot give evidence for her husband—I called on Mrs. Taylor to ask where Mr. Taylor was; she said she did not know—I did not believe her story about money coming to her under her grandmother's will—I see Mrs. Taylor in court—I will swear in her presence that I did not offer to compromise—I know Mr. De Vaux, a dealer in jewellery—my wife has called on Mrs. Taylor to find out where Mr. Taylor was, but I never sent her to compromise—I put my case in my solicitor's hands and left everything to him—I thought the prisoner was going to be proved a fraudulent bankrupt—a warrant was applied for in October—when I called on Mrs. Taylor I threatened to prosecute Mr. Taylor—I know the Lamb public-house—I have been in it twice, but never with Do Vaux after leaving Mrs. Taylor's-De Vaux told me he went there, but I do not know for what purpose—that was after I said that I would prosecute—I attended the meeting of creditors—Mrs. Taylor sent me a letter, but I forget the contents; it was destroyed—it may have been written to my wife—it may have been to the effect that she expected money, which she would hand over for the benefit of her husband's creditors—I lent the prisoner a white waistcoat to go to a ball or theatrical performance two months before his liquidation, and called for it after the liquidation—the bills were then mentioned—Mrs. Taylor said that she was very sorry, but thought it would be all right in the end—she talked about the legacy every time I called.
Re-examined. The prisoner had absconded in the meantime—I presented one of the bills, and saw a woman he was living with there—I tried several times.
NOT GUILTY .
There were two other indictments for like offences, on which MR. LEWIS offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
MARY GAMBLE . I live at 12, Bell Court, Gray's Inn Road—the prisoner lives in the second floor of the same house—on 23rd December between 11 and 12 o'clock I heard her coming downstairs using violent words and saying that she would do for me; that she had had six months but did not care for that, she would have my b——life—then she came into my room with a long-bladed knife in one hand and a piece of iron in the other—she struck me in the forehead, and cut my finger, and bit my middle finger—I fell on the floor and lay in a quantity of blood—I went to the hospital—I had not been drinking—my wounds are not well—I have lived in the house three years—the prisoner has been quarrelsome about six months—she has been imprisoned for six months—I did not strike her.
ALFRED STREET . I am a surgeon at the Royal Free Hospital—on Sunday morning, 24th December, about 4.30 a.m., the last witness came to the hospital—she was suffering from an incised wound over the right side of the forehead, a quarter of an inch long, and half an inch deep, leading down to the bone, which was slightly damaged—if the wound had gone on badly it would have been dangerous—when the bone is injured it is more likely to be dangerous—a fist could not cause it; a table knife would—she left the hospital of her own accord—I saw her ten days since, the wound had nearly healed; it only required a little lint on it—a pail could not cause the wound unless she fell on the edge of it.
Prisoner's Defence. On Saturday night I was coming upstairs; the complainant was the worse for liquor, and we had words and then blows, and she went away very drunk. She gave me a dreadful bite, and on Sunday morning I found her under my bedstead. I called to Mr. Edwards and said "Why don't you let her go downstairs." She went downstairs and I saw no more of her till 8 o'clock on Saturday.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES DOVE . I am a bootmaker, at 45, Whitcombe Street—on 16th December I locked up my premises before going to bed—between 1 and 2 o'clock I heard some one tampering with my lock—I went to the door and heard a man say" It is only a padlock, I will soon have that off"—I prepared myself with a broom—I saw three men; I struck the foremost on the head; he said "Oh!"—they ran away; one left a hat behind.
MARK CHITTOCK (Policeman C 99). I was on duty five minutes' walk from Whitcombe Street on Saturday night between 1 and 2 o'clock—I saw the prisoner; he had no hat on—I afterwards heard that a shop had been broken into—I apprehended the prisoner—he said that he was in at 12.30—I told him he was charged with breaking into a shop.
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutor said he struck the man on the head; my scar is on my nose. The hat does not fit me.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "At 8 o'clock I left my
my mother. I went to the Victoria Theatre. I was knocked down and kicked. I got home about 11.30 and was in bed by 12 o'clock.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecution.
MICHAEL JENNINGS . I am a labourer, of 8, Green's Buildings, Holborn Hill—on Friday, 15th December, I was in my house; I heard the prisoner's voice at the door—I went and asked what he wanted—he said a man down stairs wanted to fight me—I went as far as the Black Bull in Holborn—I saw no one who wanted to fight me—the prisoner followed—I saw a policeman and told him the prisoner was following me—he told us both to walk home—the prisoner threatened to rip my guts open—he drew out a knife and tried to stab me in the face and struck me in the back—I threw him to the ground and held his wrist.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not take a poker with me—the knife scratched the back of my neck—there was was no reason for quarelling—I had known you about a month.
GEORGE WITCHELOR . I am a tailor, of 12, Canton Street—on 15th December I was on Holborn Hill about 10 o'clock—on passing the Black Bull I heard Jennings say that the prisoner was following him—Jennings told a constable who said "Go home"—I followed from curiosity—they went into Castle Street—they were both sober.
WILLIAM WALL (Policeman E 137). I was on duty near Chancery Lane, on 15th December, and heard cries of "Murder" and "Police"—I ran and saw the prisoner threatening Michael Jennings with a knife—Bridget Jennings was trying to take the knife from him—George Witchelor went on the other side and took the knife out of his hand.
Prisoner's Defence. Michael Jennings kicked my teeth out. Witchelor did not take the knife out of my hand. I am innocent.
GUILTY **— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
187. FRANCIS JENNINGS (19) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of of William Scarlett and stealing therein a jacket and other goods, his property. Second Count—Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. D. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM SCARLETT . I live in Vincent Street, Bethnal Green—on Saturday, 30th December, I left my house, at 7 p.m., securely fastened and went back at 10.45 and found the bottom window open—I missed a jacket, a pair of black trowsers, and a white table cloth.
WILLIAM MUSGROVE (Detective Officer H). On the night of 30th December I was in Commercial Street, about 10 o'clock, and met the prisoner wearing this coat produced and these trowsers were across his shoulder—I asked where he got them; he said out of pawn in High Street, Holborn—I took him to the station.
Prisoner's Defence. I was going along and met two men who gave me 2s. to get the things, and I was stopped going by the police-station.
GUILTY on the Second Count — Judgment respited.
MR. MUGLISTON conducted the Prosecution.
ANN FREEMAN . I am the wife of William Freeman, of 11, Kentish Town Road—on 12th November I left my house at 11.15 leaving a boy in charge—I returned next morning and found the street door burst open and the second floor door forced—I missed 14l. 10s. in money, a pair of sheets, a table cloth, a shepherd's plaid shawl, an umbrella, and a dress—I valued the property at 30l.—the property produced is mine.
CHARLES BUTCHER (Detective Officer). On 1st January, at 5 o'clock, I was on duty in Crown Street—I saw a man, not in custody, go to No. 9 and ring the bell—the prisoner said "All right, I will be down in a minute"—he came down—the two joined and went into West Street, through New Street, leading to Covent Garden—they turned back—I walked through St. Martin's Court and went to 9, Crown Street again, and remained there till 6 o'clock—three men returned and went into the house—I followed and found them at the top of the house and a woman in bed—I told them I was a detective and should take them for being out for an unlawful purpose—I searched the room and found this jemmy and a ticket for the velvet—I made enquiries next door and the umbrella produced was handed to me.
WALTER BEER . I am employed by Mrs. Freeman—on the 12th I went out about 2 o'clock to see my brother and returned about 9 o'clock and found a drawer open—I missed a money box from the shelf—the house was fastened up when I left Thomas Lucas (Detective Officer Y). I examined 11, Kentish Town Road, and found the house had been entered.
The Prisoner in his defence stated that he was a farrier and had served in the French war and received a wound in the head, from which he suffered frequently, and came to London to attend the Hospitals; that he met with these companions and lodged a few nights at their house, but knew nothing of the robberies.
NOT GUILTY .
There were other similar indictments, on which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METNE conducted the Prosecution.
MR. HORACE AVORY submitted that the prisoner was wrongly indicted, the the provisions of the section of the Act not applying to this offence. THE COURT, upon looking at the section, being of the same opinion, directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RINGWOOD, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against FELTHAM.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. C. MATHEWS appeared for Salisbury.
GERMAN GREEN . I live at 6, Helmet Road, and am a wax merchant—the prisoner purchased goods for 1l. 12s. on 28th April, 1874, and gave me a cheque—I paid it into the bank—it was sent back, marked "No effects."
Cross-examined. I have had his cheques before—he said he was in difficulties
—I do not recollect his saying that he expected money from an insurance office.
CHARLES HILL . I live in Chelsea, and am a laundryman—on 27th April, 1874, the prisoner brought me a cheque for 12l. 10s., and asked me to change it—he said that he expected 350l. from a fire insurance office, who had already sent him an acknowledgment—I got the cheque cashed by a neighbour—the prisoner then paid me 10s. which he owed me—I never got anything else.
CHARLES DORIN . I live at 67, Chelsea Road—the prisoner brought a cheque to me on 29th April, and asked me to cash it—I know that is my boy's writing although I am no scholar—it was cashed by a neighbour.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT—Saturday, January 13th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. BESLEY, J. P. GRAIN, and CHILD conducted the Prosecution; MR. M. WILLIAMS appeared for Wood, and MR. STRAIGHT for Bowyer.
BRUCE GOLDIE . I am manager and cashier to Messrs. Matthews & Canning—they had an interest in the Conquering Hero public-house at Peckham-Wood went into that house on 8th November, 1875, and left on 26th April, 1876.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. His mother was my late wife's first cousin—I had not seen him for six months previous to 19th December—I never knew him by the name of Bowyer till this transaction—he followed the occupation of a barman for some time.
Re-examined. This certificate is correct—his father and mother were George and Lucy Bullimore. (This certified the baptism, at West Lynn, Norfolk, in January, 1851, of George, the son of George and Lucy Bullimore).
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I do not know every situation that Gibson had—I did not know him in Wood's employ at Camden Town—I never heard Wood's name till this transaction.
WILLIAM HENRY HART . I keep the Windmill public-house, New Cut, Lambeth—I wanted a barman, and on 29th July Bowyer came to me—he said that he had lived ten months at Mr. Wood's, Long Acre, and was leaving because there was too much work in the morning for him—I told him if that was the only reason I would go to Mr. Wood and inquire for his character, which I did the same day—I did not know Wood before—I said "I have called respecting George Bowyer's character; he culled on me respecting a situation as barman, and told me that he had been here ten months—I asked him if he was a confidential servant—Wood said "Yes"—I asked him
why Bowyer was leaving—he said that he grumbled about the work of a morning—I asked him if he was honest and trustworthy—he said "Yes"—I think he was earning 13s. a week with Wood; I agreed to give him 15s.—he came to me on 29th July and remained till 18th or 19th August—I had paid him for the 5th and 12th, and his wages were owing up to the 19th—he did not tell me he was going, I was out at the time, and I did not see him again till he was at Bow Street—I would not have taken him if I had known that he had not been ten months at Wood's.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I believed that he bad a ten months' character living with a licensed victualler, but I should not have cared whether the house was called the White Hart or the Windsor Castle—Bowyer said that he had been with Mr. Wood, of the White Horse, ten months.
Re-examined. The time of his ten months' service commencing and finishing was not mentioned by either of us.
JOHN WEBB . I keep the Lee Arms, Dalston—about 6th September Bowyer called on me, and gave the name of Henry something—he applied for the situation of barman, and said that he had been living at the White Horse, Long Acre, Mr. Wood's—I said "Will Mr. Wood give you a character?"—he said "Yes"—I went the same day and saw Wood, who told me that Henry had been with him four months—I said "Can you recommend him as thoroughly honest, industrious, and sober?"—he said "Yes"—I said "We want a young man very quick at the counter and so on"—he said "I can recommend him for everything that is condigenal to your business"—I asked him how long he had left him—he said—"Three months," and that he left because he could not afford to give him the wages as, on account of the theatres being closed, things were very bad—I said "On your recommendation I shall take him into my service"—he came two or three days afterwards, on a Friday I think, and remained till the Sunday fortnight—during that time he had gone out on one or two occasions, and came home intoxicated, and the mistress had to send him to bed—he left on the Sunday after dinner, without notice, and returned on the Monday intoxicated—I then discharged him—I paid him two weeks' wages, 24s. altogether—I had an idea while he was with me that I missed a shilling—it was Mr. Wood's exemplary reference which induced me to take Bowyer into my service.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Mine is a very heavy counter trade—I was not at the police-court till after the case was over—I was telegraphed for, and Bowyer was then brought out of a cell.
HENRY GORDON . I keep the Caledonian Arms, Fulham Road—I answered a barman's advertisment on 17th November, and Bowyer called on me the same evening—I asked him where he had been living, he said at Mr. Wood's, the White Horse, Long Acre—I asked him how long—he said "Nine months"—I said "What are you leaving for?"—he said "Because we had a few words in the cellar about some ale"—he said that he was going to leave the next Monday, 20th November, and on that day I went to the White Horse and saw Wood—I said "I have called respecting a young man he is leaving you to-night, he refers me to you for a character"—I asked him whether he was honest, sober, and quick—he said "Yes"—I said "Do you think I shall be doing any harm by taking him?"—I asked him how long he had been there—he said "Eight or nine months"—he then called him, and Bowyer came in front of the counter—I asked him when he would
come to me—he said "Next Wednesday, if you please"—that would be 22nd November, but he never came, and I did not see him again till he was at Bow Street—he has not left, he is engaged at Wood's still.
FREDERICK GREENFIELD (Police Inspector R). I took Wood on 22nd November, and Bowyer on 19th December, on warrants—Bowyer was denied to me, and I had some difficulty in getting into the house; when I got in I told him that I held a warrant to apprehend him for being concerned with Wood in getting characters—he said that Wood had given him three characters, which were false; he said that he had been there about four weeks off and on.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I have not stated before in any Court the observation about the character being false, because Beckwith appeared with Bowyer at Bow Street, as I was unable to attend; I had another remand at Greenwich.
Re-examined. No question was put to me about it when I was examined afterwards.
MART MILLIAN repeated her former evidence and added: I first saw Bowyer at Mr. Wood's as a customer, he came just before Wood was taken in custody, and served behind the bar for two or three days—I was away in September and part of October.
GUILTY of conspiring to induce Hart and others to take Bowyer into their service.
WOOD— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
BOWYER— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Baron Hawkins.
HENRY WILLIAM JONES . I am a solicitor, practising at Colchester—I have been assisting my father, who is also a solicitor, in his business—I Was doing so in July, 1873—my father was then and is now Clerk to the Magistrates of the Lexton and Winstree Division, and also to the Highway Board—the prisoner was at that time a clerk in his employ—his department was that particular portion of the business which related to my father's appointment as Clerk to the Magistrates and Clerk to the Highway Board; it was the practise for him to receive payments on those accounts, all payments I may say—all monies paid into the office on those accounts passed through his hands; if I received any I handed them over to him the first time I saw him; or if my father or some other clerk received any in his absence it was instantly handed over to him on the first opportunity—this book (produced) is called the Magisterial Cash Book—all payments respecting the magisterial department ought to have passed through this book;
that was the course of business in the office—the left-hand page denotes cash received by the prisoner, and the right-hand page cash paid by the prisoner—when my father or I received sums from the prisoner we put our initials against the sums so received; it was very rarely indeed, I think, that my father received any—I see here an entry on 18th August, 1873; it is in the prisoner's handwriting—it is "August" 18th, 1873, to H. W. J., cash 11l. 10s., H. W. J."—those are my initials—when I signed my initials to that item it was not as it is now; it then stood 1l. 10s.—I have my own cash-book which makes me say that positively, I have it here—the moment I received any money from the prisoner or anybody else I always entered it in that book—at this length of time I would not undertake to pledge my oath that on that particular day I only received 1l. 10s.; it is four years ago, I could not go to the length of saying that—I notice something with regard to the figures in this entry in the magisterial cash-book—when I signed my initials to this entry the entry wag 1l. 10s.; another "I" has been put in front of it, and the first "1" is in a different coloured ink; the other two figures have been run over at the same time the second "I" has been put in; it appears so—the prisoner has had credit for 11l. 10s. on that item—the prisoner used to hand me the balance of any sums he had in hand—the balance was taken at uncertain times, there was no regular time for taking it—the whole of this page is the prisoner's writing—there is no balance struck on that page, of course balances are struck afterwards, at the end of the year—this book shows that a balance was struck, there was then a sum brought forward to the 1st January, 1874—this book shows that at the end of 1873 the prisoner was indebted to my father on that account 1l. 10s. 11d., that is, that he had 1l. 10s. 11d. in hand. (Mr. Wood proposed to call the attention of the witness to other alterations of a similar character in the book with a view to show guilty knowledge.
MR. WILLIAMS objected; the charge here was really one substantially of forgery; and evidence of the kind proposed could, only be adduced where the question was one of uttering. MR. BARON HAWKINS was of opinion that the transaction in question was one that must stand by itself, and that the evidence proposed was not receivable.)
Cross-examined. This affair was on 18th August, 1873—the prisoner remained in my father's service up to the middle of 1876—my father is here and in Court—I know Mr. Fry of the firm of Palmer, Bull, & Fry, attorneys—I do not know Mr. Bull—I was not present at Colchester when my father charged Mr. Bull with receiving a press copy of a letter knowing it to be stolen—I am well acquainted with all the business matters in my father's office except magisterial business—I know that my father had a client named Jeffreys—I know that my father is making certain claims upon insurance offices with regard to policies which had been assigned to Jeffreys from one Blomberg; we are bringing actions against these insurance companies; they are defending the actions; they are disputing the claim on the ground of fraud, they alleging that Blomberg had gone to Japan and had died before paying the extra risk premium—they also allege that my father was aware of the fact and concealed the fact of Blomberg's death—the prisoner abstracted a press letter written by my father to Messrs. Digby, solicitors, of Malton, and forwarded that press copy to Messrs. Palmer, Bull, & Fry, the solicitors to the insurance company, and that is one of the charges against him—we charged him with stealing the press copy of the letter, and Mr. Bull with receiving it knowing it to have been stolen
—we preferred an indictment at this Court against the prisoner for stealing that press letter—Mr. Bull was discharged before the Magistrate—I have heard that the prisoner's defence with regard to that letter was that he had sent it to Mr. Bull because he knew that a fraud had been committed on the office, and for the purpose of furthering the ends of justice—it was after that charge that, we brought this charge of forgery, because we did not know of it till after he left—Mr. Digby was not representing Jeffrey because he was a client of my father's—I believe he was concerned for one of the assignees of one of Blomberg's policies—the charge of stealing the press letter was committed to the Colchester Borough Sessions—this book has been in my possession from time to time, and this one in the prisoner's—since he left it has been left in the office that he used to use; the clerk that succeeded him took over the books—when the prisoner left the books were taken home by my father—I believe the prisoner left on the last day of June or 1st July—when my father took the books home I believe they were brought back the next morning; I think we took them home two or three nights—there was no regular stated time for balancing the accounts between the prisoner and the firm—they were not balanced weekly—sometimes they were balanced monthly, or when it suited my father and the prisoner to balance them, at irregular times—my father has two farms—I have never known him to borrow money of the prisoner to pay on to the farm—I never heard of it—he was paid his salary, sometimes by cheque, and when he was not, I used to pay him, that is to say, supposing 1 had not sufficient money in the office on the particular day his salary was due, I should go to my father and ask him to give him a cheque for it, and I know he has done it, but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred I have done it, and you will find the entries in this book—he was always paid on the 1st of every month, unless it was on a Sunday, or I was not there, or something of that sort, you know—I mean that his salary was not always paid on the 1st of every month.
Re-examined. It is the fact that before Blomberg died the assignee of his policy had tendered the extra premium on account of Blomberg having gone abroad—it is the case that Blomberg had gone out of the limits of the policy before he died, and that before he died the assignee and holder of his policy went to the office and informed them that he had gone out of the limits of Europe that he did not know where he was, and tendered the extra premium—I was not present, and as to some of the questions 1 was asked by the prisoner's counsel, I was not present—it was alleged by means of a bill in Chancery that my father had concealed the fact—I know, as a fact that the bill has been dismissed with costs—Mr. Bull kept the press letter twelve days, photographed it, and sent it back.
Q. You were asked whether the prisoner's defence was that he wanted to expose a fraud—as far as you know, was there any fraud to expose? A. Certainly not, that I am quite satisfied of—the prisoner was committed to the Borough Sessions at Colchester for stealing a letter; it was a charge of larceny, triable at Sessions; this charge of forgery* was not triable at Sessions, under an order in council, the Essex people are brought to this Court for the Winter Assizes—I don't think I have totalled the page in this book where the 11l. 10s. is—I will do it—the total in its present state is right—the whole of these figures are the prisoner's writing—I think there has been an alteration of the total in the book; I will just look at it again; there have been in several, I don't know whether there has been in that one.
By THE COURT. This book was not kept under lock and key during the time the prisoner was with us; it was kept on his desk—he had an office to himself; other account books as well were kept on his desk, anybody in the office had access to them—there was no formal audit of his accounts—I did not say to him "Bring your account in, and let us check it off"—I looked into the book a great many times, and looked through the different items; I did that sometimes twice a week—I am out a great deal, and I may not be in the office from one week's end to another—I have sometimes gone two or three weeks and not seen it; I think that would be a long interval—on the average, I think the book would be looked into once a week, because he used to make payments to me about once a week—the accounts on either side, debit or credit, would be presented to me; I should look at the items, I should not cast up—I took the items and looked at them to see if they were correct—I only pointed out one entry to him in my life as being erroneous, and that was within three days of leaving; that was the first intimation I ever had—that item appears in the books; that was the only one that I remember—I kept a cash-book of my own; I kept that on my own table, in my own private office—I have a separate room—that cash-book was subject to anybody's inspection at the time, it was always open to anybody who might come in and look at it—I made the entries under the prisoner's inspection, he used to bring me this book, and the cash, and say "I have to give you 5l., or 20l. or 30l." whatever it was, he would previously have entered it in the book before handing me the money, and I should immediately put my initials, as I have done to thousands of items,. and make the entry in my book—I can't say when that particular entry was made—I have not the slightest recollection; it was a matter happening every week, and twice a week sometimes—I have no recollection whether that entry was made in his presence or not—I made very few entries, I should think, when he was not present; I feel sure I must have made some—he used to see me make the entries, they were always done so that he could see them, he was not so far off as your Lordship is; my table is a small one—I can't say that he read it; I know that he has done so—this is the office cash-book, there are nobody's entries in it but mine—it was no part of the prisoner's duty to make entries in it—none of the entries in the other book are in any handwriting but his, only after his discharge.
NOT GUILTY .
HENRY WILLIAM JONES . It was the prisoner's duty to receive monies and account for them to me or my father in a book—all moneys he paid to me I always initialled in the book as a receipt—I had most unbounded confidence in the prisoner—I kept a cash-book of my own in which I entered the sums he paid me—in the magisterial cash-book under the date of May 7th, 1374, I find this entry "H. W. J., cash 2l. 10s.," and that purports to be receipted, H. W. J. has been put to it, or rather I should say H. M. J., the middle letter is an M, there is one stroke too many, but it purports to be H. W. J.—I always receipted monies paid to me by the prisoner, with those initials as appears by the book—I certainly did not write those letters H. W. J.—I am very well acquainted with the prisoner's handwriting
—the entry is in his handwriting, and I believe the initials are in his hand-writing, I would not swear it positively; in my own mind I have very little doubt as to it—I did not receive 2l. 10s. from the prisoner at that time—I have the means of refreshing my memory on that point, I have a cash-book in which I enter every sum I receive (referring to it)—I always enter them at the time I receive them, at the very first opportunity, invariably—I am not aware of any occasion in which I did not—I am perfectly satisfied that I did not receive that money—the total at the bottom of the page is 92l. 6s. 2d.—I have not totalled up that column, I was just doing it; I see there is a mistake of a shilling—it ought to be 92l. 7s. 2d., that is including the 2l. 10s., taking the book as it is now—the total is written upon an erasure, the balancing line is carried up from the left hand bottom corner, and the 2l. 10s. entry is written over it; the balancing line goes to an item one line above it—the same total is carried forward on to the next page 92l. 6s. 2d.—I really cannot see by this light whether there has been any alteration since it was put there; it appears to be all right—the prisoner has had credit with me for that 2l. 10s.—the balance was struck after that on December 4th, not at the end of that year, at the end of the next year—there was no occasion to, balance this book at all, the balance was on December 18th, 1875; it goes on to then, and then a balance is struck—I tested the correctness of the entries in this book by comparing them with my cash-book—when I compared them this 2l. 10s. was not there—I compared that page of this book with my cash-book—when I made that comparison the 2l. 10s. was in his book, I have never seen the book in any other state than it is now—to my recollection I made the comparison when my attention was called to this particular item, within the last three or two months; I did not make it in 1874—before the prisoner left the employ I called his attention to one error in the cash-book; here it is "April 24th, 1876, H. W. J., cash 3l."—I was looking over his book and I was surprised to find that he had debited me with 3l.; I asked him for an explanation and his explanation was "I had 3l. in hand which I intended to give to you, but I did not see you and I forgot to scratch it out of your book"—I said "Run your pen through it at once," and I made him do it, and here it appears so—I never had that 3l., I think that occurred at the latter end of April, 1876, I had unbounded confidence in the prisoner at that time.
Cross-examined. He did not say that I owed him the 3l.—I never owed him 3l. or 3d., that I swear—this is a charge in May, 1874, he left in July, 1876—I said just now that 1 constantly looked at the book once or twice a week, and so I did; that equally applies to 1874, as it does to 1873—I do not recollect of my own memory that on 7th May, 1874, I did not receive that 2l. 10s.—I say that the initials H. W. J., are certainly not in my handwriting; I believe we have no expert here as a witness—this was a charge preferred before the Magistrates at Colchester, about a fortnight before the last session here—I have never shown this writing to Mr. Chabot, Mr. Netherclift, or any expert—(referring to the entry), I say that the balancing line was put in first, and after that the top part of the balancing line was scratched out and the two subsequent items entered in afterwards; the last two—the top part of it seems to be scratched out, I think with a pen knife; let me look at it—it is not thoroughly scratched out, because you can see the top of the letters—I think a knife has been used; allow me to look; I thought so; I believe it has—I express that as my opinion; if you will allow me to look I will tell you in a minute.
COURT. Q. You have looked at it, if you have not you ought not to express an opinion, because it is a very serious charge to make. A. I did look at it, but not thoroughly.
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. You have distinctly and deliberately sworn as your opinion that the top of the line has been scratched out by a pen knife; do you now wish to alter that, or to stand by your answer. A. It is a very difficult thing to answer—I think it has been attempted to be scratched out with a pen knife, or an eraser of some kind or other.
By THE COURT. The balancing line is not in pencil, it is ink I believe, a very light pale ink, blotted off instantly; it is the top part of the line that I think has been erased—I thought so, looking at it cursorily in the witness box here—I have seen it before; I don't think it ever struck me before, I saw it in the witness-box that there had been an attempt to erase; it never did—I should very much like to have the opportunity of looking at it again (it was handed to the witness); oh, no, I don't think so now—I do not see any trace of an erasure there, or any attempt to erase—I said it struck me as being an erasure on the ground that it was somewhat fainter at the top end; I say I formed the opinion on the ground that it is obvious that the balancing line was put in before the last two items, and on the further ground that it looks lighter—I do not mean still to say that there is an erasure; I do not think now that there is an erasure—I did not check the items of payment in this book, because I do not interfere in any way with the magisterial cash-book; it is not part of my duty to check them, all I have to do is to check my own entries—it has been left too much to the prisoner—my father does check them, he looks over the book—I never received any money from the prisoner without putting my initials; I don't think there is one in the book—my father does the same thing—I always put my initials; I don't know about my father; it is the habit certainly always to put the initials; my father as well as myself. (The attention of the witness was called to several entries against which no initials appeared.) The rule does not apply to my father so much as to myself; as a matter of rule it does, but he was not so particular in doing it as I was—in the page where the 2l. 10s. is entered there is a second entry of a 1s. to Superintendent Daunt; he is the superintendent of police for the Magistrates' division—I don't think there is any account that would show whether that 1s. was paid to him—I believe my father asked Daunt; Daunt is not here—I believe he said he could not tell, because we pay him so many sums—that is one of the items written over the balancing line; it was properly there if it was ever paid; I don't believe it was; I believe it is purely imaginary altogether, because it has been put in subsequently, and the book does not add up with it; that is my reason.
Q. Your balancing lines seem to be as irregular as the initals—I find a great many of these pages at the bottom have no balancing line at all? A. That is not his, I think—allow me the book; he has been in our service about three years—(referring to the book) the initials H. W. J. to all these entries are mine; there is not a single one in the book that is not mine—I put my initials in different ways occasionally, but you will see at that time I made them alike—I did form my initials differently at some periods—I began to change, I should think, about two years ago; I could tell if I had the book again—I have altered my initials to a certain extent; I used to write them without taking my pen off, and I now write them
separate, and the reason was because they were sometimes mistaken; I did not break myself of the habit at once—I think it very possible that they may be different at different times—I see they are different in July and October—in the column where the 2l. 10s. is, I can easily detect that it is not my signature; in an instant—there is another signature immediately over that; there are very few items in that page—I did not discover this until my attention was called to it.
ALFRED TOWNSEND COBBOLD . I am a solicitor, and am managing clerk to Mr. Jones, of Colchester—I was articled to Mr. Westthorpe, solicitor, of Ipswich—the prisoner was there at the same time, he was not with me at Colchester—I am acquainted with his handwriting—I see the entry "H. W.J. 2l. 10s. cash," with the initials before it; it is the prisoner's handwriting, I am sure of it; I could not speak positively as to whose handwriting tie initials are in.
Cross-examined. I was not called before the Magistrate, or before the Grand Jury—I found out these initials myself.
HENRY JONES . I am a solicitor, practising at Colchester—I am the prosecutor in this case—the prisoner was my clerk for about three years and a quarter up to 1st July in the present year, his leaving had no reference whatever to the present charge, or any other charge; a few words, and I gave him a month's notice, and he left on 1st July—I am clerk to the Magistrates of the Lexton and Winstree division—the prisoner was my clerk in that department of my business—this book was kept by the prisoner, it was his duty to enter all receipts by him of a magisterial kind in that book, and to account for the payment on the other side—I see this entry of May 7th, 1874, it is the prisoner's writing—I say that the initails there are a forgery, they are not my son's; I am well acquainted with my son's initials; I say that, in my opinion, these decidedly differ—I did not receive 2l. 10s. from the prisoner at or about that time—my instructions were that my son should always initial payments made to him by the prisoner, those were my instructions to the prisoner and to him, and I believe they were—when he handed money to me, very frequently, as a rule, I used to initial them; sometimes he has said I did not, and I have not questioned it, I have accepted his statement and there was end of it, as far as I was concerned—I had very great confidence in the prisoner while he was with me—these initials are certainly not in my handwriting—I very seldom looked through the book—I see an item of a shilling under the 2l. 10s. that would be a payment to Superintendant Daunt of 1s. for the service of a summons, perhaps, or something of that sort, in the matter to which it refers, it says here "Re Fisher"—I have totalled up this page—I did not have any conservation with Superintendant Daunt about the 1s. in the prisoner's presence; I had a conversation with him, but the prisoner was not present.
Cross-examined. Daunt is not here—I am confident this H. W. J. is not my son's handwriting, I say it is a forgery; I know my sod's signature thoroughly; I won't say that he always signs his name in the same way, but I know it thoroughly well; his signature is not always signed in the same way, because if he puts his name at full length—you said his name—I did not know what you meant—I think he always signs his initials in the same way, that is my opinion—the signature above is a genuine signature—there seems to be another way of signing his initials; there is; this seems to have a missing stroke or a stroke has gone over the other stroke of the H, I mean in the
genuine one; is seems to me that the down strokes ore so close together that it would look like H in the last stroke of the W and the J, as far as my eyes enable me to judge—the genuine one is, to my mind, exactly like a genuine one, but I think the first stroke of the W is run into the stroke of the H; that is all I can say—in other respects, I think, I know of no other way of signing his initials—I do not keep a cash-book—when the prisoner pays me cash it is entered by him in his book; I have no check against it; I don't say that I have always initialled the sums he has paid me—sometimes when he has paid me money, if I have been before the Magistrates or elsewhere, I have given him a memorandum of "G. W. E." so much money, and it has been accounted for to my son in making up the books—I don't think it would be a matter of very rare occurrence that my signature was not attached to the payments made to me, it certainly would not happen week after week, or entry after entry—I have a client named Jeffreys, he was the assignee of certain policies of insurance of a man named Blomberg—I know a person of the name of Digby—I believe he was an assignee of one of those policies, a small one, on Blomberg's life; he is a solicitor at Maldon—I have heard that Blomberg went to Japan—I don't know that he died there, I have heard so, obviously I can carry it no further—the insurance companies dispute the claim—Messrs. Palmer, Bull, & Fry are the solicitors to one of the insurance companies.
Q. Did you recommend Digby to say to the insurance company, or to the secretary of the insurance company, that Blomberg had gone to Japan, that he, Digby, was ready and willing to pay the extra risk premium, but you would recommend him not to tell them at present that Blomberg was dead? A. I wrote to Mr. Digby to that effect, in connection with a message—I knew at the time I made that recommendation that the extra risk premium had not been paid; I assumed so at all events—I knew in Mr. Jeffrey's case that it had not been paid; I mean by Mr. Digby's client.
Q. Did you advise him to pay that extra risk premium as though Blomberg were alive, when you knew that he was dead? A. I advised him no more than what was in the letter—I did not advise him to pay it as though Blomberg was living when I knew he was dead—at the time I wrote to Digby I did not know that Blomberg was dead; I had heard so, but I did not know it; I never disputed it—I had a doubt about it—I said "I should not tell them at present that he is dead," because I had already sent a message to him by Mr. Evans the day before; that the information I had received could not be vouched in any way—I say, when I gave that recommendation to Digby, I had been told that Blomberg was dead; had my doubts about it; I thought be might be, but I had my doubts of it—I really cannot say that I formed a belief sufficient to say either one way or the other—there was nothing authentic with regard to it, and probably would not be until the 12th October, when the mail came in—I did not conceal it; I had sent that very message the day before—I certainly recommended Digby not to mention the allegation of the death—I think that was an honest transaction under the circumstances.
Re-examined. My son's initials are sometimes expanded and sometimes much closer; he does them sometimes one way and sometimes the other; but generally close together in my opinon.
COURT. Q. Have you any objection to take a piece of paper and show us roughly what you mean; I don't want you to go into a direct imitation? A. No, I never attempted it, and I don't know that I could (The witness
wrote on a piece of paper and handed it in.) It is more so; in some few instances you will find a dot, something of that description; the letters all joined together, but spread wider apart; I consider this is the distinction.
By MR. WOOD. I am engaged as solicitor in actions against insurance companies, on policies of insurance on the life of Blomberg claimed by the assignee—I have no personal interest in those policies and never had; my interest is simply as a professional man on behalf of Mr. Jeffreys as my client—I know, as the solicitor in the case that in the Spring of 1874, my client had reason to believe that the assured had gone out of the limits of Europe—I first of all heard of the existence of the policies at the latter end of April or the beginning of May, somewhere about May, and I then heard that the assured was supposed to have left England and been travelling on the Continent or gone abroad, I did not know where he was—there have been some Chancery proceedings in this matter—one of the Insurance Company's filed a bill in Chancery and made me a party to it, for the purpose of having the policies delivered up—I have been dismissed from that bill. (A Mr. Messent here produed a letter addressed to himself from Jeffreys, dated in April, 1874; MR. M. WILLIAMS objected to its reception, and THE COURT declined to admit it.) I know that my client has written a letter to the insurance office on 27th April, 1874—I can give an explanation of it: my client told me that the insurance office had agreed to consider the policies in force, and that when the movements of the life assured were ascertained they would take the extra premium, and I hold Mr. Messent's letter in my pocket to that effect; that was a letter six months before I sent this—this is Mr. Messent's letter to my client. (Read: "24th April, 1874. Dear sir—in reply to your letter of 21st April, the directors will be happy to regard this policy as being in full force, subject to your undertaking to pay the extra premium, if any, that may have been incurred, when the movements of the life assured come to be ascertained.") I wrote to Mr. Messent undertaking to pay the premium when the movements were ascertained and my client told me that everyone of the offices had agreed—I gave my advice because of the information contained in the letter to which that is an answer, and the statement of my client.
By MR. M. WILLIAMS. This related to the letter I wrote to Mr. Digby; it did not relate to the insurance that Mr. Digby was concerned in, but I have the letter in my pocket from the insurance office that Mr. Digby was concerned in—this touches my bond-fides, I believed my client, and gave the best advice I could under the circumstance—in the Spring of 1874 all the offices in which policies were held had communicated to them the fact that my client believed that Blomberg had gone out of England; that information was conveyed to the Liverpool and Globe Office by a person named Cooper—I was told so at that time; he is here—Digby's policy was in the Sovereign; they also agreed that they had notice in April of the life having gone, or was supposed to have gone out of the limits of the policy, out of England, and they also wrote a letter which I have got—I have two letters, this is one of 1st May, 1874, signed by the secretary of the company, addressed to my client: "Re Blomberg's policy. The board have reconsidered your application and, under the circumstances, are willing to accede to your request that in the event of the assured having gone beyond the limits of Europe without license, you shall be permitted to pay such extra premium as the nature of the risk may require, yours faithfully, Charles J.
Rowe"—I first knew that Blomberg had gone to Japan in September, I don't know what day in September; I heard it from Mr. Murray, a solicitor in Whitehall Place; I have understood he is solicitor to Blomberg's family, and I believe so—he said that he had had a telegram, or that a telegram had been received; I don't know that he said he had it,; he had knowledge of a telegram and he read to me what the contents of it were, it was in a very few words, but he said "You must not rely on it as authentic or authoritative, but we shall probably know something more about it by the mail which is expected on 12th October, and on 12th October I called on him again and no further information had come—the first time I heard where Blomberg had gone to was when I heard this report of his death—. we know now that he died on 25th July, and that the information conveyed in the telegram was correct—I don't know who the telegram purported to come from; I asked Mr. Murray to give me some further particulars as to who it came from, in order that I might communicate with them, and he said it came to some firm in London; it was not Messrs. Gellatley, Hankey, & Co.; if he had mentioned them I should have gone to them; he did not mention the name to me I am sure, or I should have gone to the parties.
By MR. WOOD. After these letters had been received in April and May, I did not consider, with regard to keeping the insurance alive, that there was anything more to do than give them information as to where he had gone—that was the state of affairs when I wrote this letter on 25th September, 1874, to Mr. Digby; this is the letter: "Dear sir, Re Blomberg, I suppose Mr. Evans delivered my message to you yesterday"—that message was what Mr. Murray had said, that it could not be considered as authentic—"What I recommend you to do is to write and say that Blomberg has gone to Japan, and that you are ready and willing to pay the extra risk premium; I should not tell them at present that he is dead"—when I wrote that I did not refer to any other source of information except what I have told the Court, through Mr. Murray, with the proviso that he had put upon it—"We yesterday telegraphed to the Foreign Office for five certificates of death, including one for you, that you might write to Jeffreys on Saturday, as he wants to see you particularly; I will then arrange the matter."—Those were the circumstances under which I wrote that letter—the insurance companies have objected to pay this claim on the ground that Blomberg was dead at the time the extra risk premium was paid—my client and myself filed an answer in Chancery on 10th June, 1875.
By MR. M. WILLIAMS. I did not say that it was in September I first received information from Mr. Murray that Blomberg had gone abroad; the question you asked me was when I first heard that he had gone to Japan; that was in September—it was at the end of April or the beginning of May that I first heard he had gone abroad; where, I did not know—it was in September that I had the first information that he had gone to Japan—I believe 1 did not hear from Mr. Murray in May that Blomberg had gone to China—Mr. Murray has sworn that he wrote a letter in May to say that Blomberg sailed in January, for China, but that where he was located he did not know—I have looked for that letter and cannot find it, I cannot find the least trace of it, there has never been any evidence of its having been posted to me, and I cannot carry it further—I heard it suggested in May that he had sailed for China,. I cannot say what date it was that I was shown the telegram that Blomberg died.
By THE COURT. I believe the policy would not have been vitiated so long as he kept in Europe; the fact is it would not be vitiated by his going abroad—the extra risk premium depends upon where a man goes—I should say it would be different for Algiers or the Gold Coast, India, China, or Japan—there was another letter from the Sovereign, prior to the one that has been read—before Blomberg's death nobody had ascertained what the extra risk premium would amount to—the fact of his reported death was not made known to the office because I assumed they would demur to take the extra risk premium—I thought they had entered into a contract but that they probably would not take the money, and, perhaps, would not tell us what the rate might be, and we had no means of ascertaining—I did not mean them to be kept in the dark upon what I thought was a material piece of information—I thought my duty to my client required that I should keep the office in the dark as to the information I had received; I thought it would increase my client's difficulty in regard to the matter; I thought it would induce them to prejudice my client in not receiving the money, or telling us what the rate ought to be, or anything else; they would probably have said "The whole thing is at an end, and you may do what you like"—I thought my client's interest would be best served by not telling them that; they might demur and probably would, I thought they would.
Q. However, you did deem it an important piece of information to withhold from them? A. For the reasons I have stated. It was in April or May that I heard Blomberg had gone to China—almost the first thing I heard when I heard of these policies being in existence, was that he had gone abroad or on the Continent—Mr. Murray gives the copy of his letter as the 22nd May—I deny that I had it, but that is what Mr. Murray says; the question was put to me in cross-examination—Mr. Murray says he sent a letter on 22nd May, saying he had sailed for China, but he did not know where he was.
NOT GUILTY .
There were four other indictments against the prisoner, three for forging and uttering receipts for 4l. on 23rd July, 1875, 4l. on 3rd May, 1873, and 5l. on 31st May, 1873, also one for stealing a piece of paper of Henry Jones , upon which, no evidence being offered, the Jury found the prisoner
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MR. LYON conducted the Prosecution.
EDWIN GLASSCOCK . I am a painter and grainer, in the employ of J. L. Glasscock, of Bishops Stortford—I know the Ancient Forresters public-house, it is on the road leading to Little Barrington Hall—on Friday evening, 8th December, I saw the prisoner in the tap-room of the Ancient Forresters—I noticed the time he left, it was 9.50 as near as I can say—he left by himself—the hour of closing is 10 o'clock—shortly afterwards about 10.30, in consequence of information I received, I went straight down to Little Barrington Hall, and when I got there I saw a stack on fire—there was another stack near it at right angles to the burning one—the fire spread to that stack as well, and it also caught a barn and other buildings—the wind was blowing so that the fire was driven into those buildings by the wind—I have been at work at Little Barrington Hall, and have lodged at the Ancient Forresters; it would take quarter of an hour to walk from one to the other—I have walked it night and morning—I assisted to put
the fire out and saw the prisoner there—he was not there when I got there—I cannot say how soon afterwards I noticed him there.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Did you see me at work on the engine? A. Yes.
ALFRED HARRIS . I am foreman to Mr. Hall, the tenant of Little Barrington Hall Farm, Hatfield Broad Oak, Essex—on the night of 8th December, about 10.40 I went into the premises and saw a barley stack on fire—I had been called by cries of "Fire"—it was the stack which was nearest to the road which was on fire—it was about 10 rods from the road I should say—there are 5 1/2 yards to a rod; that would be about 55 yards—another stack behind it at right angles to it, caught fire and some buildings also—I saw the prisoner throwing the burning haulm with a fork high up into the air—the wind was blowing towards the buildings, and it blew the burning particles towards the buildings which are now standing, but not towards those which are burned—some of them told the prisoner to leave it alone, they called him Lump; they said "Leave it alone Lump"—that is his nickname—the prisoner said "Let it burn, it wants to burn, let it burn you b—"—as soon as the fire was got under, my attention was called to some foot marks going to the stack; they were a few feet from the stack which first caught fire—I cannot read and I do not understand this map (produced)—on the Sunday afternoon I went with the prisoner and constables Hitch and Gall, to the footmarks—we then traced footmarks away from the stack; they went round by the hedge, but there is no path there, only a horse path; there is no right of way there—we traced them to the road again which leads to Barrington Hall—the constables had two pair of boots with them, they each had a pair—I saw them compare the boots with the foot prints—one pair of boots corresponded with the prints and one pair did not—the prisoner said that they corresponded with one pair.
Prisoner. He said that it was haulm which was thrown up, but it was not haulm it was hay.
SAMUEL CHARLES HITOH . I belong to the Essex Constabulary—en the evening of 8th December I as on duty in Tateley, which is about 2 1/2 miles by road from Little Barrington Hall—I saw this fire commence—I saw a light flash up in the air as if a lucifer had been just struck and I saw smoke—I went home and looked out from the upstairs window and could then see the flames from Little Barrington Hall—that was about 10.30—I proceeded to the spot and got there about 11.15—I took out my watch at 10.20 and looked at the time—when I got there I saw the straw stack all but consumed, and a stack of hay was burning also—I assisted in putting out the fire and saw the prisoner there—I watched him very narrowly—he was going about in the kitchen instead of helping' at the fire, and I was obliged to order him out—he assisted a little when the engine came at 3 o'clock in the morning—next morning I observed footmarks on the road going to the stack-yard; that is the road which leads from Bush End, where the prisoner lives—I understand the Ordinance Map (looking at it)—this is where the fire was, and the footmarks were along this gateway by the side of this fence to this point; they came straight to the stack and went along here, up this cart path—there is no footpath or right of way there—those were the footsteps going to the stack and they were the proper length of the boot, but going away they were on the slip—when a man is running, his feet slip, and the impression is very distinct of the heels and there are long strides—before going to the road he
has stopped at a privet hedge and then got over into the road and went along the edge of the forest—this iron fence runs by the edge of the forest—just under the privet hedge I could see that some person had been standing there for some time, by the numerous foot-steps, it is a ploughed field, and the steps were on the ridges—there was grass within about 30 feet of the stack, so that the footsteps could not be traced—the footsteps that could be traced to and from the stack came directly to the corner of it—I went down to the prisoner's house which is on the Green opposite the Ancient Forester's public house—I saw footsteps in the garden leading to his house, which were the same as those I traced along the fields—I went into his house—I fetched him from the Ancient Forester's beer house—the policeman Gall was with me all the time—he asked the prisoner where the boots were which he went to the fire with—this was on the Sunday, at 2 o'clock p.m.—he brought them from another room, and said "These are the boots I had on," handing them to Gall—they were dry, and I could tell as soon as I saw them that they were not the pair I wanted, and I went into the other room, and saw this pair (produced)—the dirt was all round here, and wet—there was ashes and slate on them—there was plenty of it on them at that time—I took possession of them; they both want toe-irons—there had, no doubt, been a toe-piece of some kind, a piece of metal—they are in the same state as they were when I found them—the sole of one them had four nails in the front, and the heel has four in front and two behind, and there is a little nail with the head knocked off; the other boot has three and two, and this little nail made a scratch as he was running; that is on the left boot—there is not a similar nail in the right; there are four there—the prisoner was then apprehended by Gall, and told the charge; he said that he did not know anything about it; he went straight to the fire by the road, and never left the road that night—when I brought the boots out, I said "Whose boots are these?"—he said "They are not my boots, they are my father's"—I know his father, he was not at the fire up to 1 o'clock, which was after we found these marks—from 11.15 that night, to. I o'clock on Saturday his father was not there, and that was after I found the marks—Gall and I took these boots, and in the prisoner's presence compared them with the footprints, and that pair agreed with the footprints in every particular, heels, and everything, through the whole of the track that is marked on the map, and in his own garden as well—in the footprints leaving the stack, I noticed the slip made by the one with the nail; the other boot made larger marks—they corresponded in every possible way both as to the right and left boot—the heel iron is removed from the left boot, and there are three nails in front and two in the centre—the prisoner was with me when 1 compared them, and he could see that they compared, but he said "I did not come round this way; I did not make them"—I have measured the distance from the prisoner's house to the stack which is burnt, it is 244 rods—there are 5 1/2, yards to a rod—from the stack to the prisoner's house, going by the fields is 104 rods further, from the point where you would get into the road is 104 rods additional—going round the field would be 104 rods further out of his way.
Prisoner. I was going up the road when you told me to go back or else you would not put my name down for going on the engine.
fire—when I got there three stacks were burning and a shed—after I had been there some time, I saw the prisoner in the kitchen, and said "I expect any one going to a fire will assist in putting it out, and if you do not see fit to do so you had better take yourself off the premises," and he went out—I was with Hitch when he compared the boots with the footmarks—I saw him bring this pair of boots out of a room at the prisoner's house, and the prisoner said "Those are not my boots, they are my father's"—I did not see his father at the fire—we compared these boots in the presence of Harms, and they corresponded in every way, and the prisoner said "I have no doubt these are the boots that made the marks, but they are not my boots"—I should have been likely to have seen the father had he been there—the prints in the direction of Bush End House terminated 10 yards from the stack—the footprints were quite clear across the fields—when I found the boots, there were ashes and slate on them, but the footprints were free from ashes—all the footprints were clean, going to the stack and from it—I saw the footprints in the prisoner's grounds; I have been in Court and heard Hitch give his evidence; I corroborate it in every particular—I compared the boots with he marks by placing them by the side of the marks—I did not notice any similar prints in the stack-yard; there were so many people about that we could not—there is grass for 10 yards round the stack in which the fire broke out, and there is straw there; there was a place where an old stack had been, and there we found footprints.
JAMES CANNON REED . I am the prisoner's father, and live at Bush End, Hatfield Broad Oak, Essex—I never paid for these boots, they are not mine and I never wore them—they are my son's boots, he bought them and wore them up to the time of the fire—I did not go the fire; I was not well and did not get up—I did not go round the fields where the footprints were—there is no other man living in my house except my son and myself.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were in bed when they cried "Fire."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was at the fire at 10.15."
Prisoner's Defence. I went into the Ancient Forresters and had a pint of beer; I came out at 9.40 and went straight home and went to bed, the clock struck 10 o'clock as I went to bed; I heard John Smith cry "Fire," and I got up and went down and cried "Fire" three times. I went to the fire with Matthews and another man, and I took out two pigs and put them in the kitchen and got the carts out, and then helped to get the harness out, and the trusses of straw, and then raised a ladder and got six jugs of water on the tiles to save the women and children inside. I did not go into the fields that night, I never went to work that morning; I went with Charles and had a pint of beer for breakfast. If I were to drop dead this minute I never lit the fire; I will take my oath of that.
GUILTY . Hitch stated that the prisoner had been convicted of maliciously damaging gates on the same property— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
195. ROBERT JOHN ROBERTS (38) , PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling the sums of 4l. 14s. 6d., 4l., and 1l.; also the sums of 4l. 7s., and 3l. 10s. of the Singer Sewing Machine Company, his masters— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GOODMAN conducted the Prosecutum; and MR. FULTON appeared for Ely and MR. STRAIGHT for Lawne.
ELY— GUILTY on the Second Count — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
LAWNE— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr: Justice, Lindley.
MR. J. P. GRAIN and MR. TICKELL conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES FODEN . I am relieving officer of the Leytonstone district—Leyton is part of my district—on 5th December, William Jones called on me for an order to bury a child which had died at George Road, Leyton—I asked him what he was, he said a painter earning about 30s. a week—I told him if that was the case he could not ask the parish to bury the child, he said that he was out of work and had no money and could not bury it himself; I asked whether he was married and whether it was his own child—he said "Yes," and I gave him an order—the corpse of the child was pointed out to me by the female prisoner lying on a sideboard, and from its diminutive appearance it was evident that it had been starved, and I said that I should acquaint the Coroner—she fell down on her knees and begged me not to make any bother about the matter, and said that she had done all she could for the child—I then weighed it, and it weighed exactly 9 lbs. with the clothes on—I searched the house with Sergeant Cox, and found about 1 lb. of bread and part of a packet of cornflour; that was all that was in the shape of food—in the front room was an old table and chair, and part of another chair—the bedroom downstairs was quite empty—in the front room upstairs was part of a palliasse, part of an old sheet and three pieces of sacking—in the back room was part of an old palliasse which was exceedingly wet and dirty—the windows were broken, a portion of the ceiling was down and the tiles were partially off the roof, so that it was neither wind or water tight—the house has four rooms—I said "I presume the children sleep here"—she said "No; no one sleeps here"—I said "Do you wish me to believe that yourself and five children have been sleeping on part of that palliasse?"—she said "Yes"—there were four other children in the house who were in a wretched state of filth, and badly clothed, and they seemed very much neglected—I told the prisoners that I could not leave the children there in that state, I must take them to the union—the woman begged me not to do so, but the man said if I would take them there for a week or two he would try and provide better for them, and I took them there.
MISS FLETCHER. I am a district visitor, and was in the habit of visiting the prisoners—I recollect this child being born in November, 1875, and I saw it three or four days afterwards—it was a very fine child indeed—I saw it from time to time up to June, 1876, and it appeared in a fairly healthy condition—I was away from the beginning to the last day of June, and at the beginning of July I saw it again, and it had got very
ill and was very thin indeed—I asked the mother what was the matter with it; she said she did not know, but it had been getting ill for the last few weeks—it was always very dirty, I never saw it clean at all—I gave her a ticket for the children's hospital, and told her that unless she made it clean they would not attend it there—I went there once a week and always on the day after she had been to the hospital, to hear what the doctor said about it—she said that she had been to the hospital; and she showed me a bottle of lime water which she said she got there, and told me that, they said that the child was in a consumption and that it was to have fresh eggs and beef tea—in the middle of November its thumb was nearly raw, there was hardly any skin on it from being constantly sucked—it was then outside the door with one of the other children,—in very light clothing indeed—the last time I saw the mother I did not see the child, she said it was asleep—I told her I had not seen it for the last two or three times I had been at the house, and asked her to have it where I could see it—she said that she should be really quite glad when it was dead because it was such a trouble to her, she got no Test with it—I replied that it would be a happy release—I did not see it any more—I had spoken to the mother on several occasions about the children's condition, and she always said that when her husband got into work she could do better for them—she always perfectly agreed with me and always made the same answer—I have been there when the father and mother were at tea, but never saw the children at the table, they were sometimes outside the house and sometimes on the floor—I believe I have seen the female prisoner intoxicated from her manner being very peculiar, but not very often—I lent her 30s. once, she only repaid me partially, and told me to take it out of her little boy's money who was in my service—she knew I was a district visitor, because I constantly gave her Mrs. Barclay's tickets, and also tickets for 1s. a week for four weeks.
By THE COURT. I gave her one ticket, I think, about the end of June, and another in September, and other tickets for beef to make beef tea for the child—I also gave her tickets for grocery—I also gave her clothes, and when the baby was brought to my house one rainy day in November, with scarcely any clothing, by a little girl, shortly before it died, I covered it up—besides that, I had given the children clothing—I did not see the husband often, but I visited him once when he was ill—I never had any conversation with him in reference to the children—Mrs. Jones generally said that they had not had meat that day, but it would be all right if I would give her one ticket—Mrs. Barclay's tickets have the butcher's name upon them, but they could be handed from one person to another perfectly well.
Cross-examined by W. JONES. The little girl came in November for the last ticket I gave your wife, that was for grocery—the last day I visited her was about a fortnight before the child died, about 20th November.
MRS. FLETCHER. During my daughter's absence in June I took my daughter's district and came across this family—the child was brought to me by a little girl, and I thought it was insensible, it was so dreadfully weak—I gave it some food and it took it like an animal—I brought the food for the girl to carry home, but it seized it, and it was too weak to swallow; it let it all run out of its month—its feet were bare and it was frightfully thin—I saw it one wet day when it came, and it was in a most dreadful state I did not think it could live a day, it was filthy beyond description and nearly naked—I went to the prisoner's house, it was terribly dirty—I simply went about the boy who is now with me.
HENRY LANGFIELD . I am a journeyman bootmaker, of 3, Grange Road Leyton—I have known the prisoner fifteen or sixteen months—I first saw the deceased child when it was a fortnight or three weeks old; it seemed a very fine child, and it retained that appearance till the mother weaned it when it was about six months old; but was always in a very filthy state, it never seemed clean—after it was weaned it seemed to get thinner—I hare seen it sucking its fingers, and it always seemed ravenous—it was very badly—clothed; I have very often seen it in the yard on a cold day with only a shirt on, and I heard my wife speak to the mother about it, who told her to mind her own business and walked indoors—I have smelt Mrs. Jones very often of intoxicating drink when I have crossed the yard for water and she has passed me—she worked at a fire-work maker's, as far as I know, and she worked indoors part of the time—I have seen the children with firework cases and have found them in the yard—I live next door to them and the male prisoner has come to my door late at night to all appearance intoxicated—I have repeatedly heard their children cry of a night as late as 12 o'clock—their windows were broken, and I have seen the landlord come into the yard and make remarks about them.
Cross-examined by W. JONES. A week or two before the child's death you came to my door and asked me for matches, at 12 o'clock at night, and I smelt drink very strongly then—you were drunk then to all appearance—I have not very often seen you drunk—I saw a bushel or a bushel and a half of fireworks found buried in your garden—I have never seen you making fireworks, but I heard you at work indoors, and have seen you come out as black as a sweep with the powder—I saw you bury the fireworks, I was looking out at my window; they were not cases only, they had powder in them—that was on the morning of November 5th—it was not on a Sunday.
EDWARD HOTHEN . I live opposite the prisoners—I noticed this child in August when the mother came over to my sister's house to borrow a few shillings; it was then in a very filthy condition and its skin appeared to be hanging on its bones; I moved the clothes from its body and found sores—I gave the mother a packet of prepared Fuller's earth and told her to take the child home and wash it—she said "Yes," but she clapped the powder on just as it was—she appeared three parts intoxicated—I have seen her intoxicated two or three times a week—I have seen the father intoxicated several times in the week, but not reeling drunk—in September I called in the little girl Harris who had the care of the child, and it screamed at tie, sight of food on the table—I said "Cut it a piece of bread and butter and, put some sugar on it," and it took that in its hand gnawed it and seemed to to be almost choking—on another occasion my sister gave it food in my presence, and she has gone over and left food when the mother was out—Mrs. Jones brought food for all of them to my house when she was going out; it consisted of bread and treacle.
ELIZABETH LEAD . I live at George Road near the prisoners—I knew the deceased, it was always very dirty indeed, and when 1 saw it the last time, which was on the Thursday before it died, it had only a frock and a petticoat on—when the girl has been out with it she has come and sat at my place with it, and 1 have given them both food, which the child took very ravenously—I said to Mrs. Jones "What does the doctor say to the baby?" she said "He says it is going into a consumption"—I washed the child after it died and it was so dirty that the things it had on stuck to the flesh
—it was in such a shocking state that I was almost afraid to handle it to wash it.
By THE JURY. The eldest child is about ten and the one before this about two years and a half—their condition was very dirty and they were very lightly dressed—they had a little food given to them, by one or another, or they would not have been as well as they are—they are healthy nice looking children, but they did not appear to have proper food—they were glad to get crumbs when other people shook their tablecloths out at their door.
Cross-examined by W. Jones. They did not ask me for food, but I have frequently given it to them—they did not look as if they were starved, because the neighbours fed them, and when the mother knew it she said why did not the neighbours mind their own business.
GEORGE BOYCE . The female prisoner is my mother—my father has been dead about six years—I went to Mrs. Fletcher's last summer and lived there—when I left home I left two brothers and one sister in the house—before I left home my mother was generally at home in the day—we were fed very badly—I used not to get breakfast many times in the week before I left home, and I did not get much meat for breakfast—when I left home the children slept in the back room on an old mattress, but the baby slept with mother—I have often seen my mother come home tipsy; generally about once a week, and I have seen my father tipsy two or three times a week—he was working when I left home at Mr. Buckley's sheds making fireworks.
Cross-examined by Mary Ann Jones. I never had enough to eat when I was at home.
SUSAN STANTON . I live next door to the prisoners—on the day the baby died I went to the house and saw it on the little girl's lap, dead—I did not see the mother at home the last week in November—Mrs. Mudd had charge of the children then—the child was always dirty and it was very thin—I have seen it out on cold days in charge of a little girl, with hardly any clothes on it—I have seen the mother drunk, sometimes two or three times a week, and I have seen the father drunk, but I did not see him often—Mrs. Mudd is not here.
INSPECTOR ANDERSON. I saw Dr. Prescott write this certificate last Sunday evening.
MR. MUDD. I left my wife this morning very bad with rheumatism; she is not able to get out of bed—she can't move.
INSPECTOR ANDERSON (re-examined). I heard Mrs. Mudd examined at Ilford, and her deposition taken—I saw her sign it—the prisoners were there, and they were asked if they had any questions to put to her.
The deposition of Fanny Mudd being put in, stated that the child was quite, healthy after it was born, but afterwards became ill, and the mother took it to a hospital, thinking it had consumption of the bowels; that the mother gave the children bread and treacle, rice, and oatmeal, but the baby became worse and did not seem to swallow well, and afterwards died.
ELIZABETH RADLEY . I am the wife of Reuben Radley, a painter, of 3, Crescent Road, Leyton—I have known the male prisoner two years—my husband employed him from Easier, 1876, up to the end of August, when he left of his own accord—my husband employs two regular painters all the year round, and he could have remained if he had chosen—we pay painters 8d. per hour—he worked sixty or seventy hours a week, and earned
about 2l. 7s. a week—I have often seen the deceased child being carried about by the little girl; it looked very small and thin all the summer—I noticed it before June—about three weeks before its death I saw it nearly naked on a very cold day, still in charge of the girl—that was the last time I saw it—I have given the elder ones food, but not the baby—when they have come into the shop they have looked so very bad that I have given them what food I had left on the table, and I have sent them home some—that was during the time the husband was in my employ—our painters can draw during the week, and he always drew in advance on Monday mornings.
Cross-examined by W. Jones. The supposed hours of work are fifty-six a week, but you worked fifty or sixty when you thought proper; you worked overtime sometimes, and you have got paid for nine hours when you only worked two—I paid you, and I sent Mrs. Jones a sovereign home on Saturday—that was sent up from Bromley for her—I did not pay your weekly wages, but I know by the books how many hours you worked; you left because you said that you were worth more money than 8d., and Mr. Radley would not pay more—you left in August, in the Bank holiday week—you did not finish the house.
By THE COURT. It was my husband's habit to pay on Saturday for all they have earned, but if the men want money in advance on Monday morning they get it, because they have to go by train from Leyton to Bromley in Kent—I have seen the male prisoner very drunk while he was in my husband's employ, but he was not obliged to leave through drunkenness.
GEORGE GRANT . I am foreman to Mr. Brock a firework, manufacturer of East Ham—the prisoners came to me and were both employed there for two weeks, the second and third week in November—they earned 3l. 16s. 4d. in the two weeks, out of which they paid 1l. 8s. for materials, which left 2l. 8s. 4d. profit—they could have worked there up to this time if they had liked—I remember the male prisoner coming and speaking to me about the death of the child—they had not been at work that week, but there was work for them to do if they had chosen—they left of their own accord.
By THE JURY. They were paid weekly, on Saturday; the first week was 25th November, and the second was 2nd December—they could have drawn money if they had got their work done. 1
ALFRED MOORE . I am a surgeon of Leyton—on 6th December, I made a post-mortem examination of this child, it was very emaciated; it seemed only skin and bone, the legs had been washed, but they were still thick with matter—I found all the organs of the abdomen and chest healthy, the stomach was distended with food, consisting of starchy matter and lumps of bread—the brain was congested on the surface, due I think to the gorged condition of the stomach, there was no particle of fat in the body, the bowels, lungs and heart were healthy—there is such a thing as consumption of the bowels, but I found no trace of it or any signs of consumption generally—in my opin on the emaciation was caused by chronic starvation, either from insufficient or from improper food—the immediate cause of death, was food which gorged the stomach and produced that condition of brain—there was an absence of disease.
By THE COURT. There was no sign of inflamation of the bowels, the condition of the child was consistent with starvation, and there was an absence of disease.
THOMAS JAMES BARRETT . I am a surgeon, of Stratford—I examined the child externally; I have heard Mr. Moore's evidence and agree with it—I was not present at the post-mortem examination, but I saw the body two days after and found it a fearful object, mere skin and bone—I weighed it, it only weighed 8 1/2 lbs., and it was 26 inches long; it was a large framed child, and at that age it ought to have weighed about 20lbs.—I could come to no other conclusion than that it died from starvation and neglect.
By THE COURT. From the state of extreme emaciation in which it was should say that it had frequently been without food, because children's stomachs are very elastic, but it was gorged with lumps of bread and starchy matter given to it shortly before death—I cannot help thinking that that food was put into it four days before its death, and now it appears that the stomach could not digest it, and therefore that food was improper food; but I do not consider that the food was the cause of its death so much as the prolonged starvation had been.
INSPECTOR ANDERSON (re-examined). On 11th December I received the Coroner's warrant for the prisoners' apprehension—the female prisoner was present at the adjourned inquest—I conveyed her to Ilford Gate, and on the 16th I charged her and her husband at the Ilford police-court.
William Jones produced a written defence, stating that he earned 2l. a week at Mr. Radley's, and gave 25s. to his wife, keeping the rest for his own expenses and railway fare, which did not leave much for drink; that his wife gave the chili milk, beef tea, and physic, and that he carried it to the hospital, and that when he did come home the worse for drink it was on a Saturday, when he had been with his fellow workmen.
WILLIAM JONES— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MARY ANN JONES— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Baron Hawkins.
198. THOMAS WILLIAM CHRISTIAN (21) , Feloniously administering to Susanna Bailey a quantity of prussic acid with intent to murder her. Second Count—feloniously attempting to administer the same with a like intent.
SUSANNA BAILEY . I am the wife of Richard Bailey, of 6, Kingston. Terrace, Charlton, a naval officer—I have known the prisoner between five and six years—when I first knew him we were living at Portsmouth, and he was apprenticed to a chemist there—I have three, daughters, Mary Ann, the eldest, was then in a situation at Southsea, but living at home with the others—she was very little acquainted with the prisoner then that I knew of—about December, 1875, we moved to Charlton, and the prisoner came to lodge with us—he was out of a situation a fortnight after he came—my daughters were all living with me there—on Monday afternoon, 4th December, I had some words with him, about being about the house, and my daughter took it up—I told him that unless he got more energy about him he should never have a daughter of mine—I had not noticed that he had
been paying attention to her; I said that because he was at all times very indolent; he would go out with her when he had a chance—he had not made any proposal to marry her to my knowledge—about 9 o'clock that evening, I was having my supper in the back kitchen with my three daughters, a younger boy, and the prisoner—about 9.20, I heard the postman's knock—I had part of a glass of beer on the table; I went to the door, and took in two letters—I left the prisoner in the kitchen, nobody else; the others had gone upstairs before me—I took the letters upstairs to my daughter's—one of them was in the front parlour; I gave one of the letters to her, I had to go up to the second flight of stairs to the eldest, and I gave it her there; the third daughter was in bed; after giving them the letters, I came down towards the kitchen; as I was descending, I met the prisoner by the side of his room door, ascending; he slept on the second-floor—I wished him good night—I then went into the yard, and on returning, I was in the act of going down the kitchen stairs, when I met my second daughter, Elizabeth; she gave me the glass of beer in my hand that I had left half finished—she gave it me at the top of the first flight of stairs—I had not asked her to fetch it for me; she had brought it for me before, if I left my beer—I took it out of her hand, and went downstairs—I smelt it, or rather I was going to put it to my mouth on the stairs—I noticed that it had a very peculiar smell, it was so overpowering that I stood it down on the table and drew back for a second and smelt it, and said "Some one has been putting something in my beer"—it had a sort of almond smell—I took the glass, and threw the contents into a glass dish with some pickling vinegar in it, which had come from some pickled cabbage—I put the glass back on the kitchen table—I then closed the door, and went upstairs to my bed room; that was about 9.55—I slept in the second-floor front room, the prisoner slept underneath in the first-floor back—my daughter, Mary Ann, was in the habit of sleeping with me—we both went to bed together that night about 10.15, we read till about 12 o'clock, and then went to sleep—I was awoke by a man's hand on my throat, pressing heavily on my throat, and I could feel the mouth of a bottle at my lips; the stuff, whatever it was, was over my face—I struggled violently, and in the struggle, I awoke my daughter—the liquid smelt like the beer—ray lips were in a terrible state for about a fortnight—I bled from the mouth—I rubbed my mouth violently with my night gown—I could not see the face of the person who was thus attacking me—I could swear to him by his back, I saw his back—after he released me I fell off the bed, the window was exactly opposite the, door, and I saw him distinctly go down the stairs leading to his bed-room—there was no candle in my room, it was moon-light—he had no coat on, he was in his shirt sleeves—it was the prisoner's habit to hang his coat in the kitchen—my daughter screamed when I awoke her, and we both went into another room, and gave an alarm—I saw nothing more of the prisoner—he had not given me any intimation of his intention to leave—I was got out of the house that night, and went next day on board ship with my husband—I afterwards saw some handkerchiefs given to the police, one knotted and the others folded.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's bed had been laid on, but he was not there; I went in—the police came about 4.20 that morning—I went on board the ship next day—I swear to the prisoner by his back, by the height of him, I should say he is between 5 and 6 feet—I feel satisfied it was the prisoner, I am sure of him; it is not from anything I heard afterwards—I
believe the prisoner was living with his uncle at Portsmouth, he was very indolent in his habits—ho did not show any animosity towards me—he lived in my house nearly twelve months, as a rule taking his meals with us—he was quite on intimate terms with us—it was not with any knowledge of mine that he was paying attention to my eldest daughter, the other two are children—I never noticed anything to denote he was unkind to anyone.
Re-examined. No other man than the prisoner was sleeping in the house that night; I am quite sure that it was a man's figure that I saw.
By THE COURT. The prisoner wore very sight whiskers and a moustache, more than he has now his hair was a little thicker, but about in the same way—I had seen him with his coat off several times before.
MARY ASS GRACE BAILEY . I am the eldest daughter of the last witness—prior to 4th December the prisoner had been paying me some attention, and about three weeks before he had made me an offer of marriage, which I accepted—no communication was made to my mother as to that engagement—I am in the habit of sleeping with my mother—I slept with her on the 4th December—we went to bed about 10 o'clock, we read between 10 and 12 o'clock, and got to sleep about 12 o'clock—sometime afterwards I was awoke by my mother struggling, and I put my band up and caught the side of a man's face—I touched his features and left a mark with my nail on the side of his face, a scratch—it was the prisoner—I smelt a suffocating smell—I screamed murder, and he left the room—I did not see his form as he left the room—my mother rolled off the bed in the struggle and dragged me with her—both of us were on the ground—I got up, got outside the door and screamed—an alarm was given, and the police came.
Cross-examined. I did not see the man's face or his back—I have not the slightest doubt it was the prisoner—one way by which I know it was him was that I scratched his face in the struggle, and when I was had up afterwards to see whether it was the prisoner or not, there was the scratch on his face—I believe I mentioned before the Magistrate that I had scratched his face; I also know it was him by the cold perspiration that was on his face, I had felt it like that before.
SUSANNA BAILEY , Jun. I am a daughter of the prosecutrix—I slept in the room next to my mother—on the morning of 5th December I was awoke by some screams—I got up and went to the window of my room which looks into the back garden, I saw a man, he had his coat on—the area steps at the back of the house lead from the kitchen into the back garden.
RICHARD STRETTON (Policeman R 219). About. 4 o'clock on the morning of 5th December I was on duty in Lower Road, Charlton—my attention was called to 6, Kingston Terrace—I went to the back door of the house, went outside, and saw the daughter, Elizabeth Bailey—I searched the house but did not find the prisoner—I went into his bed-room; the bed had been slept in—in the back kitchen I found a phial like this, which I handed to Elizabeth Bailey.
ELIZABETH BAILEY . I am the second daughter of the prosecutrix—I was awoke by my sister's screams on this morning—I went downstairs and saw the last witness—I was present when he picked up the small bottle in the back kitchen, it was on the floor—the prisoner was in the habit of hanging his coat in the kitchen, near to where the bottle was found—I placed the bottle on the mantelshelf in a vase, and Detective Morgan afterwards took it from there.
WILLIAM MORGAN (Policeman R 155). On the morning of 5th December, about 7.30, I went to the prosecutrix's house—I went into the bed-room on the second floor front—these three handkerchiefs were there handed to me by Mary Ann Bailey—two of them were knotted together, and the third was folded as a bandage, they were marked T. W. Christian, and numbered 4, 5, and 6—I afterwards handed them, in the same state in which they came to me to Mr. Wigner, for analysis—I received this phial from Mary Ann Bailey, there was no cork in it, this cork was also handed to me by her, I gave them to Mr. Wigner—I saw the glass dish taken taken from the sink by Mary Ann and placed on a table in the kitchen; I emptied the contents into this bottle and handed it to Mr. Wigner, sealed with the police seal "Woolwich Station, R"—the prisoner's hat was left in the front room downstairs, and his collar and tie were also shown to me—on the evening of the 6th, about 5.45, I went to St. George's Barrack at Charing Cross, and there saw the prisoner amongst several other recruits—I found this paper on him, he had enlisted at 3 o'clock that afternoon in the Royal Artillery—I told him I should take him into custody for attempting to murder his landlady, Mrs. Bailey, at No. 6, Kingston Terrace, Charlton, on the previous morning, at 4.10—he said "Is she dead?"—I said "No; she is not"—he said "I should not have done it, only on the previous morning Mrs. Bailey told me that I never should have a daughter of hers, or never have her daughter who I have been keeping company with for four years; I could not say the exact words she made use of, but she gave me to understand that I should never have her daughter; I intended to have finished her and taken the remainder of the stuff myself"—I told him there was some poisonous stuff placed in Mrs. Bailey's beer on the previous evening, and as there was no other person in the room, it was believed that he had done it—he said "Yes, I did it; it was prussic acid"—I then took him to the Woolwich station, and afterwards he was taken before the Magistrate—this nightdress was handed to me by Mary Ann Bailey, I handed it to Mr. Wigner.
Cross-examined. At the time I went to the barracks I knew that neither Mrs. Bailey or her daughter had seen the man's face—I did not caution the prisoner that any statement he made I should give in evidence against him—I did not think it was necessary—I have been in the force about eleven years—we have a book of regulations—it is not one of those regulations to give that caution; we never do it, it is not my practice, we simply tell them the charge, and if they have any statement to make they can make it to the inspector at the station—I told him to take particular notice of what I was going to say to him—I did not ask him any questions; it is not part of my duty to ask questions.
By THE COURT. I noticed the condition of his face, he had recently been shaved, and there was a fresh scratch on one side of his face right down by the nose, I believe on the left side.
MARY ANN BAILEY (re-examined). I saw this small bottle on the prisoner's mantlepiece on the morning of 5th December; I found it there and gave it to the constable Morgan—these three handkerchiefs I found that morning just beside my mother's bed; I gave those to Morgan, also the night dress my mother was wearing, and the contents of the glass dish.
SUSANNA BAILEY (re-examined). This is the night dress I wore on this occasion—I don't think I took into my lips any portion of the liquid that was in the bottle held to my mouth, nor any portion of the liquid that was in the tumbler.
GEORGE WILLIAM WIGNER I reside at 79, Great Tower Street, City, and am a Fellow of the Chemical Society and of the Society of Analysts—on Monday, 11th December, I received from constable Morgan this small phial, tied over with a piece of wash leather secured with red tape and bearing the seal of the Woolwich station—I also received this larger bottle with the contents said to be ale and vinegar; also the night dress and three handkerchiefs; those are the thing upon which I formed an analysis—the smaller phial contained, as it came to me, two or at most three drops of a liquid—on removing the cork there was a very perceptible smell of prussic acid, or some substance resembling prussic acid—I tested it in five different ways and I found prussic acid and nothing else, and if the cork is removed now there is still a sufficient quantity adhering to the sides of the bottle to give a very perceptible smell—the larger bottle contained 5 1/2 fluid ounces of a liquid; that is it was nearly two-thirds full; that liquid had a peculiar smell of beer, pickles, and prussic acid mixed—I tested it in altogether seven different ways, and 1 found prussic acid present by each of those processes—I took another portion and estimated as accurately as it was possible to do so the amount of prussic acid and it was a trifle under a quarter of a grain of actual dry prussic acid—it is an extremely volatile acid, therefore the amount found in the liquid would not represent the amount which was in it before it was exposed in the basin for some hours—I therefore made an experiment with a liquid of the same kind, beer and vinegar, putting into it four times the quantity of prussic acid that I found in this bottle, and at the end of six hours I found seven-eighths of what was originally present had evaporated and only one eighth was left,; therefore if that calculation was fairly applicable, this liquid would have originally contained eight times this quantity, or two entire grains, which would be nearly double a fatal dose, nearly two fatal doses—I then examined the handkerchiefs—these two were knotted together, I untied them and cut them in numerous places and took out from each place a small piece and tested it, and it contained minute traces of prussic acid—in that portion that was tied together the whole of the handkerchief had evidently been saturated in some way with prussic acid, and wherever I applied the tests I had the reaction—I cut the other handkerchief also in the same way in eight or ten different parts and wherever I cut it I found an approximately equal amount, as if it had been saddened by being dipped in or sprinkled with the acid, and then squeezed—I have taken off the breast of the nightdress and cut several pieces in the same way—there are distinct spots of somewhat large size which have been moistened with prussic acid and which show the reaction—I also found on the breast, in a position that would perhaps correspond with that, some very minute lines, which I have microscopically examined and found to be blood, and round those lines there was a distinct stain of prussic acid, as if the lip or hand from which the blood had come had at the time bees moistened with the acid—there were some four or five of those minute lines in the immediate neighbourhood of the blood stains, so that the poison and the blood might have been wiped away together—I searched for other poisons and found none.
GUILTY on Second Count — Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcom Kerr, Esq.
199. CHARLES HENRY MOULTON (14) , PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of George Crowhouse Rubie and stealing therein 15s. and two foreign gold coins, his property— Three Months' Imprisonment.
MR. MUGLISTON conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BERRY . I am a licensed hawker and travel with a van, and when in Deal I put up at the Norfolk Arms—I was there on 2nd January in the evening drinking with other men—the prisoners were there—my wife was hawking with a basket on her arm, and on her returning she called me out of the public house—I went out leaving the prisoners behind—after speaking to my wife I returned and went to the bar—on leaving again I was going up the narrow passage, and my wife came behind, those two marines (the prisoners) were in the passage and they came out as we went out—as I shut the door the further one says "You scaley b——, you aint paid for the pot of beer you left us with"—my mistress said "Never mind I hare answered for it"—he caught me by the back of the head—the other served my mistress the same—I did not rise on my legs for a minute—my misses Jay close behind me—when I had recovered, and was part of the way up, ray pocket was like that; empty—there was 53l. 10s. in my pocket before I was knocked down—as soon as I was on my legs I saw those two marines run round the corner—I was hurt very much; a piece of flesh was cut off and I had a black eye.
PATIENCE BERRY . I am the wife of the last witness—I was at Deal on 2nd January last with my husband—I had been out with ray basket—I gave it up to my boy,—who said "Mother, father has got the purse and he's pretty near drunk, go and try and get it"—I went to the public-house and called my husband outside—the prisoners followed—one said "You bare not paid for the pot of beer"—I said "I have answered for it at the bar"—I said "Pray do not hit my husband," and one knocked me down—the other said "Don't hit the woman," and he chased him round the corner as if he was going to hit the other soldier for hitting me—when my husband got up he says "I am robbed"—I looked at his pocket and his money was gone—I was hurt by one of them kicking me.
DAVID EDWARDS . I am a private in the marines, stationed at Walmer—I was at Deal, on the 2nd January, with the two prisoners at the Norfolk Arms—I saw Mr. Berry bring out his purse and saw gold in it—the prisoners could have seen it—I was there when Berry left—I saw the two prisoners leave.
MARTHA LARKIN . I am the wife of Henry Larkin—I saw the prisoner Holland, on the 2nd January, change two sovereigns, and a half sovereign—he was treating people; I have seen him once or twice before, but never with any money.
PATRICK HARRIS . I am the landlord of the Norfolk Arms, Deal—on the night of 2nd January, some marines and the witness Berry, were drinking in my house—I saw Berry and his wife go out at the front door—I saw them return—his wife was bleeding from the upper lip and nose—I do not recognise the prisoners as being there.
JOHN RANSLEY . I was in the Norfolk Arms, on 2nd January—I paid for two pots of beer—the two prisoners were there—one said "We hare not got any money"—the other said "No, old pal, or we'd stand a pot"—I left
it a little after 7 o'clock—I returned in about an hour—the prisoners were not there then.
WILLIAM THOMAS PARKER . I am superintendent of police at Deal—I apprehended the prisoners and charged them with stealing 53l. 10s. from James Berry, also with assaulting James Berry, and his wife—he said he knew nothing about the money; he had been drinking with Berry, and Berry was drunk—I searched their kit and everything belonging to them, but found nothing.
Witnesses for the Defence.
THOMAS THOMPSON . I was in the Norfolk Arms, on 2nd January, and saw Berry pull a bag out of his pocket—some one said "Put the money in your pocket"—there were between twenty and thirty people there—Berry accused another marine—I don't know his name.
ARNOLD KELLY . I was in this public-house on the 2nd January—I saw the complainant go out, and some soldiers go out—I do not know who they were—I heard Berry charge Edwards, the marine who is in Court.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MR. POLAND and MR. KINGSFORD conducted the Prosecution.
MARY WOODROUGH . I am the wife of William Woodrough, a labourer, of 8, Lower Road, Durham Hill; we have lived there five years—the prisoner lived at No. 11—at the end of August last, I was present when this child of her's was born, she had no baby linen ready for it, and I lent her some of mine for three weeks; I then took it away as she was a great deal better able to obtain baby linen than I was—I saw the baby, it was a plump healthy child, and I have since seen it, sometimes three times a week, I have seen her nursing it sometimes, I have never seen her feeding it, but I have seen her wet nursing it, she was very well able to do so, I saw the baby from week to week, but it grew worse, she told me sometimes that it would not wet nurse, and she had to feed it—it was sometimes wrapped up in an old coat belonging to its father, but it had no petticoats, and I do not think it was ever properly cleaned or washed since the day it was born—it was not properly wrapped up when I saw it—I have very often seen her drunk, between the end of August and December, I live close to her, I cannot say whether she was often away from home—on Thursday, 14th December, I saw her go out at 10 o'clock in the morning, and she staid away until 7 o'clock in the evening—about 12.30 that morning, I saw her husband walking up and down with the baby which was crying, and he was crying too—I said "What on earth is the matter?" and took the baby from him and nursed it—it seemed very hungry, I then went and fetched Mrs. Richards—I saw the prisoner come home at 7 o'clock and spoke to her; I said she ought to be ashamed of herself being away from the baby all day, she told me to mind my own business—the child only had a little gown on that day, and the father's old handkerchief round its neck.
JANE DUFF . I am a widow, and live at 11, Durham Hill, in the same house with the prisoner—there is only a thin partition between my room and that occupied by her and her husband, so that I can hear what goes on—I saw the child half an hour after it was born; it was a full-born full-grown
healthy baby—shortly after its birth I went away to Wapping for three weeks, and when I came back it was in a filthy dirty state, and it appeared to be wasting—I never saw it only in one old dirty night-gown—the prisoner used to leave it almost every Saturday, early in the evening, and she did not come home till 11 o'clock—by early in the evening I mean 6 o'clock, or it might be 7 o'clock, and when she came home on Saturday nights she would be drunk—she was in the habit of drinking—she was not capable of wet nursing the child through being in drink, but she was capable when she was sober—she was a strong healthy young woman—I have not often seen her wet nursing the baby—I have been in her room often, and she would go out and in; she would be gone half an hour or an hour; not more than that often—I mean that she would leave the house altogether—one Monday night, five or six weeks before I went before the Magistrate, I was in the next room when she and her husband went to bed, and I heard her husband say "You nasty drunken b——h, you have let the poor infant fall under the fire"—she made no reply—on the following morning I went to their room and said "Did you hurt your baby last night when you let it fall?"—she said "I will show you Mrs. Duff," and she took the baby off two chairs, and it was black and blue from its forehead round past its ear; it was bruised—from what I have seen of Mrs. Bishop and her management of this child, she did not take proper care of it or feed it properly—on Thursday, 14th December, she went out in the morning at 10 o'clock and returned at 7 o'clock in the evening—I have spoken to her about the child and asked her to feed it and she has said that she would presently—I said "Mrs. Bishop, you ought to show this baby to a doctor"—she said "I have"—she said that Dr. Long, who came to see her husband, ordered it mutton broth—one of her other children is five and the other six years old and another was older—the next one to the baby is a child of five years—the other children were properly fed and clothed at times, and as to Mr. and Mrs. Bishop, they seemed to have food enough.
Prisoner. My husband was not at home when my baby fell, neither were you; you were out gathering mushrooms, but I told you of it next morning; was not there a staircase and two partitions between us? A. No, there is a door out of my room into yours—there is a door on your side and a door on mine, and a wood staircase in the middle.
By THE JURY. She never had any clothes for her former children, they were in the same condition.
By the Prisoner. I know you had no clothes for them, because Mrs. Woodrough lent them to you.
CATHERINE HIGGINS . I am a widow, of 6, Durham Hill—I have known the prisoner about four years—I remember her last child being born, about the beginning of September, and next morning I went to the house and saw the child; it was a very healthy, strong, full-born baby, a beautiful creature—shortly after that I went hopping for three weeks, and a week afterwards I went to see the prisoner—the baby was then in a very low condition, dirty and filthy and starved—I asked the prisoner if she fed the baby, and she told me to mind my own business—it had no clothing, it had only an old coat—about the beginning of December I was passing the prisoner's house again and heard the baby crying very bitterly—that was about 10 o'clock in the morning—I went into the house and the prisoner was lying drunk on the head of the table; I spoke to her and shook her, but got no reply—the baby was lying in a corner, either on a chair or on the floor
—it had its fathers old coat about its head and shoulders—it had no linen on, and it was quite destitute—it was not clean, it was filthy—I took it away and washed it, and fed it on milk and bread and sugar, and borrowed some clothes for it, and returned it quite clean and wholesome to her—it ate very heartily—I was not going to return the child, but she came with a policeman and made me give it up—it was then clothed in the clothes that I borrowed for it—its skin was regularly frizzled up, like the skin of a little monkey—when I fed it, it was in a very low condition and very hungry, and the skin was all crimped up, but when I took it to the fire it got better—I saw it last about a week before it was taken to the union, it was then worse—I returned it clean, but it was not still clean when it went to the union—I wish it was, it would have been living now—it had not the clothes then, she sent them to a pawnshop—I can say of my own knowledge that she was sometimes capable of wet nursing the child when she was off the drink—I have seen her drunk frequently, from day to day.
ELLEN RICHARDS . I am the wife of John Richards, a labourer, of 5, Pleasant Road—that is near the prisoner's house—I often saw her and her baby—I went away for a month, hopping, and when I came back I saw it again—I did not see it every day—it was wasting away very much, and it seemed to get worse, and as to clothing, it had no baby's clothing, no clothing to keep a baby warm—I have seen it twice in an old coat—on 14th December, the prisoner came to our house at 10 o'clock in the morning for the loan of a bonnet to go out to buy a waterproof, and she wanted a shawl, but I would not lend it—I went to her about 3 o'clock, as her husband sent for me—I found him there walking about in his downstairs room, crying, with the baby in his hands—he asked me to take the baby, and I took it to my own house and fed it—it seemed very hungry; I gave it two cups of victuals, and it was not satisfied then—I afterwards took it to the police-station, and after that to Dr. Long—I have not often seen the prisoner beastly drunk, and I have not seen her incapable—I took the child to the workhouse and borrowed a flannel petticoat to take it there.
HENRY WELLER . I am master of the Dover Union Workhouse—I produce the admission and discharge book, by which I find that, on 14th December, a child named Styles Bishop was brought there about 5.30—it was wrapped in a kind of blanket; it was in a filthy state, I had it placed in a bath, and sent for the house-surgeon—I had it weighed, it weighed 5lbs.—on Wednesday, the 16th, the woman made an application to the board of guardians to have her child back, which I refused, and on Sunday, about 5.30 it was reported to me that the child was dead—I went to the hospital and saw the child, and its flesh was wrinkled on its bones, it had the appearance of being preserved in spirits—I communicated with the house-surgeon. (A certificate of the child's birth, on 25th August, 1876, was here put in.)
ANN STRICKLAND . I am a nurse in the Dover Hospital—I remember receiving a child named Styles Bishop into my charge on 15th December—it was very thin and weak; it did not appear as if it had been fed recently, it was devouring its own hands and it did not appear as if it would last long; when it first came in it had an old gown on and some very light clothing underneath, not fit for an infant—it died on Sunday morning—I carried out the doctor's orders—it was fed on brandy and milk every half hour, and it was so weak when I received it that I had to drop the milk down its throat a few drops at a time.
ALFRED GRANDISON , M.R.C.S. I am medical officer of Dover Workhouse—I saw this child in the workhouse about 6 or 7 p.m.; its body was in a state of extreme emaciation and great prostration—I gave directions for itto be weighed, but did not see it weighed—the proper weight for a child of that age, fifteen weeks old, would be from 12 to 15 lbs.—after its death I made a post-mortem examination—I saw it before it died, it rallied a little and then seemed to go off again—on the post-mortem examination I found it externally the same as described and internally the organs were all healthy, but slightly congested, though there was nothing to account for death—I attribute the congestion to low vitality, but the congestion at the back was from gravitation—I do not hesitate to say, having heard the evidence, that the child was neglected, there was want of proper food, proper cleaning, and proper heat, and its food was not sufficient or improper—the neglect must have been continued for some time—on the left posterior bone, when the scalp was removed, we found a fracture which had united and there was a slight projection—that had nothing to do with the death of the child.
By THE COURT. I do not think the fracture could have had the effect of preventing the child from taking nourishment, if it had been offered—I should say that it had been there some time and would not have prevented the child sucking—I did not examine the prisoner at all, and cannot say anything as to her power of suckling the child.
ARTHUR LONG . I am a surgeon practising at Dover—I know the prisoner—I used occasionally to visit her husband for two or three years—on Tuesday, 12th December, I called at the prisoner's house to see her husband, and she called my attention to the baby and asked me to look at it—I asked her how she fed it; she told me by the breast, and with milk and biscuit—I asked her if she had plenty of natural food for it; she said that she had—I recommended her to feed it naturally from the breast—I think it most likely that I also prescribed warmth—it is not the case that I prescribed mutton broth—I prescribed nothing but the breast—it was a very thin, emaciated, unhealthy looking child; it did not look as if it wanted medicine—I do not know of my own knowledge whether she was able to suckle the child; I took her own word without seeing whether she had plenty for it—on the following day but one I saw the child, but the prisoner was not there; it was at the relieving officer's office, and I recommended that it should be removed to the workhouse—I assisted the last witness in conducting the post-mortem examination—I have heard his evidence and agree with it.
THOMAS OSBORNE SAUNDERS . I am police superintendent of DoverKin 14th December, Mrs. Richards brought a child to me at the police-station, and I accompanied her to Dr. Long; he being from home I sent Sergeant Johnson to the union with her—I did not go—when I saw the child it was very much emaciated and very thin, and it was wrapped in a dirty bedgown and covered by the shawl which Mrs. Richards is wearing—after the death of the child I went to the workhouse and saw its dead body—that, was the same child which I had seen with Mrs. Richards—on 15th December, the day after I sent the child to the union, I met the prisoner—she asked me where her child was—I told her it was in the union—she said "They had no business to take the child away"—I said that it was a good many hours to leave the child without proper attention—she said "I did not leave till 11 o'clock"—I saw her next on the Sunday after its death; I went to her residence and asked her if she knew the child was dead—she
said "I have just heard it"—I said that she would have to come to the police-station as she would be charged with causing the death of the child—she said that she did not cause its death, but she admitted that she had neglected it by not sufficiently dressing it—before I left her husband said to her "Had you taken my advice, Jane, this would not have happened"—she said "I know it would not now"—I took her to the police-station and she was charged—I read the charge to her and she repeated that she had not caused the death of the child but that she had neglected it by not properly dressing it—she denied having starved it.
HENRY GILES PAYNE . I am relieving officer, of the Dover Union—the prisoner's husband had 6s. 6d. a week relief on 2nd December, and 65. on the 9th—that was discontinued on account of this case coming to the notice of the guardians—an offer was made on Saturday, 16th December, for the workhouse, for the whole family or any of them.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "Well, gentlemen, I am very sorry it has happened, and I have never starved my child; I own to neglecting it and not dressing it as it ought to be, and as to being out I only left my child one day, and I haven't been out on a Saturday night, more than three or four times since the child has been born, and then I have not stayed more than an hour or an hour and a half. My husband has sent the children for the grocery, and I have gone on a Sunday morning for the meat; the only time I ever left my child was on that Thursday, and then I shouldn't have stayed so long only I thought my husband would have given the child a little food; I am given to drink at times, but I am not half so bad as they make out."
The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that she was not guilty of Starving the child although she had neglected it, and had not provided sufficient clothing for it; that at the time it was born she had everything ready for it hi a gown, which Mrs. Woodruff lent her; that Mrs. Duff came to nurse her and got drunk constantly with brandy which she purchased by taking money from the till, and had taken a dislike to Mr. Bishop, when he found her out, which she now vented upon the prisoner; and that four of the female witnesses were the worst women in Dover, and turned against her when there were no more clothes to pawn for drink; that she saw Mrs. Biggins nearly drunk with her baby, and called a policeman who made her give the child up, that she had been drinking off and on for four months, and had no milk for the child, but that she was not drunk on the night she let it fall, but to weak to turn it over, drink having taken away all her strength; and that her imprisonment would kill her husband who is seventy years of age.
Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury— Six Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
202. JAMES BAKER (20), JOHN MARSON (19), and CORNELIUS HOMAN (20) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Edwin Howard, and stealing therein, a watch, a chain, a jacket, a sugar basin, and other articles, his property.
MESSRS. M. WILLIAMS and C. MATTHEWS conducted the Prosecution; MR. W. SLEIGH appeared for Baker and Marson, and MR. COLE for Homan.
EMILY FEWTRELL . I am lady's maid to Mrs. Howard, of Silverdale House, Lewisham—on Thursday afternoon, 23rd November, about 3.30, I was at the window, and saw Homan and Baker, standing opposite the buildings,
and they went down the Dale—they were sufficiently near the house to see it—I went upstairs about 5.30 and the house was quite safe—I came down, went into the dining-room and drew the blinds up—my mistres and Miss Haggart were in the room—I remained in the room until I heard a crash of glass or silver, and a very heavy fall—there was no man in the house—when I saw Baker and Homan, Baker had a darker coat on than he has now; Homan is dressed pretty much the same, and he had a little hair on his face then—a gentleman then came to the house and went up to the bed-room and found the door locked—he said "Go for a policeman, and the cook went down the Dale—I went into the high road and a man came up and said "What is the matter?"—I said "Do come, some one has broken into my master's house and I want some one to come and help us"—I cannot recognise Marson's face, but his voice is the same as that man's, and to the best of my belief he is the man—I was still calling out and he said "Hush, don't make such a noise"—he accompanied me back to the house, one of the ladies gave him a stick and he went partly upstairs.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. The men were walking about outside the house about 3 o'clock, for about a quarter of an hour—I was sitting at needlework in the bed-room, over the dining-room, the room which was broken into while my lady was dressing—I did not point out the men to her—I then went down to tea—Baker wore a darker coat, it was an overcoat; I did notice whether it came down to his knees—it was buttoned across over his chest; I cannot tell you whether it had tails—he had dark trowsers and a soft round hat—I next saw the man I believe was Baker, at the police-station, a week and two days afterwards; his head was then bandaged—I had not heard that the man who tried to break in had broken his arm, but I knew that he was injured because I saw blood in the area.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Homan had a moustache, but no beard or whiskers.
By THE JURY. I said that I recognised Marson's voice—I had not heard it before, bur I heard it at the station and recognised it—I have no doubt about Baker—I was taken to the station to identify Marson, but Mrs. Howard identified him, because she spoke to him under the hall lamp, and then it was that I heard his voice.
KATE HOWARD . I am the wife of Edwin Howard, a solicitor, of Silverdale House—on the afternoon of 23rd November I was sitting in the dining-room with Miss Haggart, and my maid was in the room—I heard a noise like glass breaking, and asked my maid to go and see what it was, and then I heard a groan—I went downstairs, and a few minutes afterwards the front door bell rang, and then the groaning ceased—the cook opened the door, and a gentleman staying with us came in—he is not here—I gave him a light and directly the door was open I saw my seal skin jacket on the door-step, and my travelling bag on the lawn—there was a white-bandied table knife in the area, and a quantity of blood—the bed-room window was opened as high as it could be from the bottom—there is a portico by the side of it, and anybody standing on the portico could get in at the window—I went up to that room and found both the doors locked from the inside—one door was forced, and on going in we found the carpet taken up, the three divisions of the wardrobe were disarranged, and I missed my watch, and earrings and chain; and my travelling bag, which was found on the lawn, stuffed with silver—that was what I heard fall—the silver is all recovered—the value of the property was 80l.—I saw what the
superintendent tells me is a jemmy, in my bed-room, and I found a tissue mask in my wardrobe.
EMILY HAGGART . I was spending the day with Mrs. Howard—I heard a fall, went downstairs and heard some one groaning in the area—a few minutes afterwards the front gate bell was rung by a gentleman who was coming home—two gentlemen who were not staying in the house also came in, and the prisoner Marson, who was very agitated, came in with them, and told me not to make a noise, it was not the thing to do, as the thieves would only run away all the faster, but that he would go for the police—my attention was directed to his voice—I have heard Marson speak since' at the police-court, and it was the same voice; it is a peculiar voice, and it struck me very much on 23rd November—I saw him on the Saturday, at the station, he was with twelve or fourteen other people, and I picked him out almost immediately.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Marson went up two or three stairs, inside the house—I was on the steps inside the house, under the gas lamp in the hall—it was not me who gave him a stick—I met the lady's maid at the station, but she did not go into the room with me—I said at the police-court that I had no doubt about Marson—they asked me if I would swear he was the man, and I said "No"—I do not swear to him, because I am not infallible, but I cannot be more certain than I am—intellectually. I will not swear to him—I was not cross-examined at the police-court,. there was no one to cross-examine me—Marson asked me if I would swear to him, and I said "No," but that to the best of my belief he was the man—I was talking to the man I gay is Marson quite three minutes on the night of the robbery—I was not very frightened then because the robbers had gone——the cook wanted to go into the area, but I begged her not—when I was sure the men had gone I went to the area.
RICHARD RALPH (Police Inspector P). On Thursday evening, 23rd November, about 7 o'clock, I went to Silverdale House, and saw foot marks leading up from the step? to the pillar of the portico, and marks of some one having climbed the portico, and on the top of the portico were foot marks in red brick earth—the window adjoining the portico was open, and there were footmarks there as well as on the window ledge—the window was above the portico—you could reach it from there; I went into the bed room and found it in great confusion—I found this jemmy on the dressing table—the depth from the window to the area is 26 feet—I found a quantity of blood in the area and this white-handled knife—I saw some red-brick—ballasting in the road in front of the house—I also found this black mask in the place.
EDWARD OFFORD . I live at the Warwick Arms beer-house, and am a commercial traveller—it is about three quarters of a mile from Silverdale house—on 23rd November, between 6.30 and 7 o'clock, two men came into the Warwick Arms, blood was running down from the left ear of one of them, and the side of his head—to the best of my belief that man was Baker—some water was asked for, I sent Thomas Butler to get some and the man's head was bathed—I said to the other man "Why don't you take the man to the doctor and have his advice?"—I left them there; the companion of the injured man was Homan, it was he who asked for the water—my belief is stronger as to Homan than as to Baker—I will not swear to Baker.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I fancy that the man with Baker had a
moustache—I had not seen them before, but I have seen one of them since.
Re-examined. I next saw Homan a week or a few days afterwards, when he came in for a glass of ale, he then had a green shade over his eye—I don't know why.
THOMAS BUTLER . I am thirteen years old—I live with my aunt at the Warwick Arms, Sydenham—on 23rd November, two persons came in, one of whom was injured, he was bleeding from his head, Baker is that man, and Homan was the other.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Sergeant Fox first spoke to me about giving evidence—he asked me if I remembered two men coming in on the Thursday night, and whether one was bleeding—I told him that they had some water to wash his head—I saw a man at the Greenwich police-station with a lot of other prisoners, who had bandages round his head—Sergeant Fox was outside—Offord was with me, I went into the room with him and saw him recognise both Baker and Homan.
By THE COURT. The first thing after we got in was the policeman asking both of us if could recognise anybody—Offord recognised them first and I afterwards—I think there were three policemen in the room where I went in.
DANIEL PETERS . I am station master at the Sydenham Station of the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway—on Thursday, 23rd November, about 7 p.m., Baker and Homan came to the booking-office window and asked when was the next train to the Elephant and Castle—there was one then due and I gave them tickets for the Elephant and Castle—Horaan took the tickets—I saw their faces through the booking-office window—they were the only two persons who were booked by that train.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. The train was due at 6.55, and it would reach London at 7.35—the booking-office window opens similar to a door, it is a little square trap which frames a man's face—you only see his face and part of his neck—I identify Homan positively; I will not swear positively to Baker—I was in doubt about him at the police-court, and I am in doubt now—when I was taken to the station I saw one man who had been injured—I did not pick him out positively—I know nothing about Marson.
Re-examined. To the best of my belief Baker is the man.
By THE COURT. He took no part about the tickets; he sat on a corner of the table in the waiting-room, some distance from the window; I saw them come in together—Homan was dressed something similar to what he is now.
WILLIAM TARRANT . I am a dresser at Guy's hospital—about 7.45 p.m. on 23rd November, Baker was brought in by another man, injured—I cannot speak positively to his companion—Baker had a broken arm and a scalp wound—there was blood—on his face and on his coat—the blood had streamed down his face from the scalp wound, I stitched it up and and placed his arm in splints—he was partly insensible and he did not answer anything—when I asked him how he received the injuries, his companion gave me an answer which I forget—I am quite sure of Baker but I have no opinion about the other.
DAVID HOLDER 'Police Inspector H). On 29th November, about 8.30 a.m., I went in plain clothes to 16, Margaret Place, Bethnal Green, and in a room on the second floor I found Baker in bed—I asked him if he knew me—he looked at me and said "Yes"—I said "Well, I shall take you in custody
for being concerned with others in breaking into a house at Sydenham, last Thursday night"—he said "I was not at Sydenham last Thursday night"—I said "It is alleged that one of the men fell from the window into the area and injured himself, and you appear to have got some injuries, how did you get them?"—his head was bandaged and his arm was in a sling—he said "I was larking with some chaps in the City, one of them took hold of the tail of my coat and swung me into the road, and I was run over by a horse and cart"—I said "Can you tell me something about it, who was it? did you go to the hospital?"—he said "I don't know where I was taken, I was insensible"—I said "Who brought you home?"—he said "I don't know"—I directed Foster to bring him to the station, and left him with him.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. I did not caution him before putting these questions—he said that he was taken to the hospital, but he did not say what hospital—I never caution persons, I ask them what I think fit relating to the case—I do not do that to find out what I can; if he had told me who ran over him I should have left him there—he does not live with his father, but with his mother-in-law, I took him from her house—his father lives close by in Virginia Street, and is a cabinet maker; he does not work with him to my knowledge—I know that he did live with him, but I can't say up to what time.
GEORGE FOSTER (Detective Sergeant H). On the morning of 29th November, I accompanied Holder to Baker's house, 16, Margaret Place, Bethnal Green—I was present when Baker got up and dressed himself—Holder left him in my charge and that of another constable, Thick—I took him down into the shop parlour where his mother-in-law, his wife, and his Sister-in-law lived—his mother-in-law asked me to allow him to have a cup of tea—I said "Yes; as he is injured, I do not wish to be harsh with him"—he turned round to Thick, and said "Why, I saw you at 4 o'clock in Shoreditch, when I was larking with some young chaps against the hoardings, and I saw you again at 6 o'clock on the Mount"—that is close to the prisoner's home—I said "Along with another one, and you looked after us, you were not injured then"—his mother-in-law said "He was brought to me about 8.15 by a short, stout young man, he said that he had been larking with some young men, and they threw him under a cart—he first said that it was done at London Bridge, and then at Cheapside, and then at the Triangle, he tells such lies that we do not know when he tells the truth"—I said "If the man was to blame he ought to be punished"—Baker said "The man is a poor man, and has a family of seven children, and I. do not wish to hurt him"—he did not say who the man was, or where he lived, nor did he give me any information by which I could find him out—we took him to the Sydenham station, where the charge was entered; the inspector read it over to him—he then said "That is the inspector's charge, not the gentleman's charge; the gentleman does not charge me with breaking into his house"—I said "Perhaps you would like to see the gentleman again";. I fetched him back, and he made the charge in Baker's presence of breaking and entering into his house on the night of the 23rd—Baker said "How could it be breaking and entering, when the window was open, and it was not night?"—on the 9th December, about 4.30 p.m., I took Marson—he was at Commercial Street station, detained on another charge—I said "You will be charged with being concerned with James Baker and others in breaking into Silverdale House, Sydenham, on
the night of the 23rd"—he said "Yes, sir, shall I be identified?"—I said "Some females will see you"—he said "Place me among some others as near my own size as possible, and see if the servant girls identify me"—up to this time, nobody had said anything about servants—I said "You understand the charge, being with Jimmy Baker"—he said "Yes, I supposed I should be charged as I was in their company, as the policeman saw me, I could not go away"—I put him in a cab in Shoreditch, and he asked me if I would go and see Mr. Baker—I said "It is no good; he will nut trouble himself about you—he said "Mr. Baker is not going to do as he likes; he has got all the money; if I am charged and go before the Magistrate on Monday, I will tell him all about it; I have often had a clumping because I would not go out with them"—that is a blow—I took him to Sydenham—he was placed with others, and Emily Fewtrell failed to identify him, but Mrs. Howard picked him out from several others—he said "That is a mistake," and then Emily Fewtrell said "That is the voice of the man who came into the house with me"—I was not present when Homan was arrested, but I went with him and Mackenzie to Sydenham on 6th January—going along, he said "Did you leave the case open for me, or was it left open for me?"—I said "Well, we have got you sooner than I expected, but we made sure of having you for it," mentioning a place where there was going to be a meeting—he said "I was not going there; I know too much to go there"—I said "If we had not got you then, we should have had you in twelve months' time"—he said "I have treated the policeman to some beer, at Bethnal Green, and asked him if the case was not left open for me, if I should be all right when I was tried; he is a good sort, and I will treat him again, if I get hold of him"—I put him in a cab, took him to London Bridge Station; the train was not ready, he said he had had no refreshment since the morning, and I let him have some—he said on the platform "Has any one turned Queen's evidence?"—I said "Not as I am aware of"—he said "I have been in the Old Bailey to see Marson, you do not want a photo done?"—I said "No"—he said "They did not know me there, as I had a green shade over my eye. Would you turn Queen's evidence, if you were me?"—I said "That you must do as you like about"—he said "No, I would sooner stand to it, whatever punishment I get"—he also said "You do not know who was standing along with Tom Middleton?"—I said "I do not," and he mentioned a name—after he got into the carriage he said "You do not know what is in store for you. You do not know as much as I do. Mother Bostock has got 3,600l., and she is going to indict you for perjury in putting the boy up to swear that Baker was in the house"—a beer-house, I understood—I laughed and said "Why, I have not spoken to the boy yet I did not ask him at the police-court; he has made a mistake"—he said "They say there is 80l. of stuff stolen, do not they?"—I said "Yes"—he said "They say there is a watch and chain"—Mackenzie said "And a pair of earrings"—Homan said "No, there were no earrings, there was a ring and some studs, I see by the paper, and some buttons; they are not so good as they look; Bostock is a b——liar, she says that I took a sovereign out of Jimmy's pocket when he was insensible, and Tom Middleton pawned his watch and chain before we started, and gave Baker some money, and I lent him 5s. myself, and he owes me 65 now, if I see him in the cell on Monday, I'll punch him on the nose"—I said "You won't, he is out on bail"—he said "I'll lay anything you do not see him; he
Won't turn up, he'll be off"—I said "If you tell me so I will take good care that he is not, and he shall be there with you"—we got out at the station, and Mackenzie turned to go up the road—I said "Mackenzie, you do not know your way about here"—Homan laughed and said "Oh, I know where we are; I have been here before"—as we passed Silverdale House he said "There is the house"—it was lighted up, and he nodded at the bed-room window and said "There is where Jimmy fell from"—I said I wondered he had not broken his neck—he said "If he had I would have carried him home dead"—I said "I admire you for your pluck, it is not everyone that would do the same for a companion"—he was then taken to the station at Deptford.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I did not put the conversation down in my pocket-book—I give it you as near as possible—during the whole of the conversation no one was present but Mackenzie and I and Homan.
ROBERT MACKENZIE (Detective Officer H). On 6th January, about 2 p.m., I stopped Homan in Bethnal Green Road, and told him I should take him for being connected with two others in custody for housebreaking at Sydenhum—he said "I know what you want me for, you s——, I won't go"—I said "You will go," and seized him by the collar, we struggled and a large crowd got round; I asked them to assist me, they refused and I dragged him into a shop—I afterwards took him out and dragged him into another shop, but the crowd pulled me out after struggling a quarter of an hour—I told him if he did not go quietly I should have to use violence—a constable came up and we took him to the station, and in company with Sergeant Foster I took him to Sydenham—he said on the way "I have been chased by the police so much that I was going to give myself up; I have been to Newgate to see Finney, nobody knew me there; I had a green shade over my eye"—Marson goes by the nickname of Finney—"Hearing so much of this case I have been down to Sydenham and had a look at the house, and nobody knew me there; Mrs. Bostock has accused me of stealing half a sovereign from Jimmy's pocket; I know he didn't have one; I lent him some money that day; he owes me 6s.; if I see him in the cell on Monday I will punch his nose"—on passing Silverdale House he looked up and said "That is where Jimmy came out of—" Sergeant Foster said "It is a wonder he did not break his neck"—Homan said "If he had I should have carried him home dead; give me a fair chance, if I am not picked out I shall get away, if I am I think I shall turn Queen's evidence and round on the lot; I am not going to stand for all"
WILLIAM JENKINS . I am a seaman belonging to the Naval Barracks, Sheeruess—I was not examined before the Magistrate—I was a prisoner at the Sydenham police-station last Sunday for being absent without leave—the prisoner Homan was in the same cell—he said that he and his mates had been to rob a house in Sydenhara, and his mate fell down and hurled himself and he took him to London Bridge Station—he also said that a boy at a beer-house came and swore that he was the man, and that the woman who came told lies about him, and he wished she had dropped down dead before she got outside—he also—said that he had pawned the watch which they took, for 8l.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Sergeant Fox came and fetched me from Sheerness Barracks yesterday, and I only came up this morning for the first time—Fox took down my evidence at the Barracks—Homan was a perfect stranger to me."
Witnesses for Baker.
EDWARD AUGUSTUS COBLE . I am a carman, of 19, Berners Road, Hackney Road—on Thursday, 23rd November, about 12.30 in the day, I met Baker in Commercial Street, Spitalfields, and he went with me to various places in the neighbourhood and was with me till 4.30—I had my van and was delivering goods—we first went to Cornelius Barham's in Raven Road, Spitalfields—Barker left meat 4.30 in Pitfield Street, Hoxton; that is about five minutes' walk from the Turk's Head, Virginia Row.
Cross-examined by MR. C. MATHEWS. I am Baker's brother-in-law—Virginia Row is not in Hoxton; but I do not think it is more than half a mile from Pitfield Street—it could be walked under twenty minutes; I could walk it in five minutes—my attention was first drawn to the 23rd November on the 26th—it was about three weeks after that that I first gave evidence; no one asked me to go.
Re-examined. When I heard of the accident on the 26th I made the remark that I was with him on the 23rd—it was about two weeks afterwards, I think, that I heard that he was in custody—I was only at the police-court on the day I gave my evidence—I do not know any of the other prisoners.
GEORGE PRICE . I am a felt hat buyer, of 13, Centre Street, Hackney Road—on Thursday, 23rd November, I met Baker in Virginia Road, about 4.30 or 4.35, outside the Turk's Head—I went into the Turk's Head and had a glass of ale with him, and waited with him a quarter of an hour—he told me something, and I know it was 23rd November because it was the last day I sold any work—it was the last day of the season and I always make an entry in a book—another reason for my knowing the date is that when I went back to the Turk's Head at 9 o'clock I heard that he had met with an accident—I am no relation of his—I gave evidence at the police-court on his behalf.
Cross-examined. He got taken on Wednesday, and I heard of it on the Saturday—I went to the police-court three times—it was on the Saturday that 'my attention was first called to 23rd November—I saw it in the paper on the Thursday morning, and his father spoke to me on the Saturday, and in consequence of what he said I went before the Magistrate—the 23rd was not mentioned by either of us.
JOSEPH BAKER . I am the prisoner's brother—I recollect his arm and head being hurt on 23rd November, it was on a Thursday—I saw him that day at 4.45—I know it was 4.45, because it generally takes me quarter of an hour getting home from school, and I leave school at 4.30—I did not go home; I saw him at the corner of Turk Street, and he called me and gave me three receipt stamps to take to my mother; it was after that that he got hurt.
Cross-examined. I live with my father and mother at 4, Virginia Row, the prisoner did not live with them, he lived at 16, Margaret Place, I dont know when he went to live there, but it was in the Bank holiday week; I don't mean Christmas week, it was the first Monday in August—I do not know Marson or Homan, I have seen Marson before, but never in my brother's company, the first time I saw him was at the Greenwich police-court; I did not see Homan there, I saw my brother there—I never saw
Homan in my brother's company before I saw him in the dock, at the Greenwich police-court—I have not seen him about the streets in our neighbourhood—I know Anderson's, the cook's-shop, opposite my father's house—I don't know a coffee-shop kept by a man named Smith—I have never seen Marson at Anderson's.
By THE COURT. After my brother gave me the stamps I did not see him again till next morning—he was then at his mother-in-law's house.
MART ANN COBLE . My husband has been examined to-day—on Thursday, 23rd November, I was at my mother's, Mrs. Bostock's; Baker is my brother-in-law—I saw him that day behind my mother's counter, serving—I asked him the time, and he said "Just gone 5 o'clock"—I then served a customer with 1/2 d. worth of milk, and left and went to the children, who came from school; when I came back he had just washed himself and was going to have his tea—I know it was Thursday, because it is my washing day; I always wash on Thursday, I had washed that day.
ALICE BOSTOCK . I am the wife of William Bostock, of 16, Mary's Place, Virginia Road, Shoreditch—Baker is my son-in-law—I remember his arm being broken, and his receiving an injury to his head; it was on 23rd November, Thursday—I had seen him that morning, and also when he came home at tea time, at 5 o'clock, I cooked a chop for his tea.
Cross-examined. He was not injured at that time—I did not say anything before the Magistrate about his head and arm being injured—he was married on Saturday, 5th August, and I took apartments for him at Mr. Booth's, the undertaker's, in the Hackney Road—he had been married seven or eight weeks before he came to live with me, that was about the beginning of October—I remember Foster, the policeman, coming on the morning of 29th November, when Baker was arrested—I did not say to him "He first told me it was done at London Bridge, and afterwards at Cheapside, and after that at the Triangle," not till Foster made the statement to me first—I did say "It is no use minding what he says, be has been out of his mind all night, first he tells me here, and then he tells me there"—I did mention London Bridge, Cheapside, and the Triangle, as places at which the accident occurred, but I did not go on to say "He tells such a pack of lies that there is no knowing when he speaks the truth"—I merely said "How can you say that"—he came home between 8 o'clock and 8.30 with his injuries; I was then washing up my tea things.
ALICE BOSTOCK, JUN . I am the daughter of the last witness, and live with her—I remember this accident happening to my brother, on 23rd November; it was on a Thursday—I saw him when he came home to his tea at 5 o'clock, and was with him while he had his tea, he went out about 6 o'clock—my mother was not in the room all the time.
Cross-examined. He was perfectly well when he went out at 6 o'clock,. but he was in liquor—he had some meat with his tea, and I thought he bad had a little drink—I do not know Marson or Homan—I never saw them till I saw them at the police-court—Marson is not a companion of my brother's—I have never seen Homan before to-day—I was at home when my brother came in injured, it was about 8.30, he had a broken arm and something the matter with his head—I did not notice that it was bleeding—he had something round his head.
Witnesses for Marson.
Thursday, 23rd November, I saw him at the Turk's Head, Parson Street, Bethnal Green, at 6 p.m., when I went into the tap-room to see if one of my men was at work who had been out drinking—I remained there from 6 till 10 o'clock, because I was trying to get the men to come to work as I had a shipping order—Marson remained there all the time I was there, he was sitting at the opposite table to me, drinking beer—he was not in company with me, but I spoke to him and he drank out of my pint, and I drank out of hisun—I spoke to him—a man who works for me was in the room, and also my father who works for me—I left Marson there at 10 o'clock.
Cross-examined. I have not give a evidence before to-day—I was subpoenaed on Monday last, I knew nothing of the case till then—it was first by this subpoena (produced) that ray attention was attracted to 23rd October—I did not see either of the other prisoners there—I only know Marson.
Re-examined. I recollect that it was 23rd November, because the person I went in to see I had got down in my time-book, I stopped him on 23rd November, and I made an entry in my book on that day.
GEORGE ROYCE . I am a waiter at the Turk's Head—I know Mr. Stone, he comes there and his workmen too—Marson frequently uses the house, he is one of Mr. Stone's workmen—I saw them there in company on Thursday, 23rd November, and two or three more—I knew the date, because I lent Marson 6d. that night—he got there just before 6 o'clock, I waited upon them in the tap-room all the evening—Marson left about 11 o'clock, and Mr. Stone at 10 o'clock, or a little later—I was in and out of the room all the evening and never missed either of them—I am perfectly sure about the evening.
Cross-examined. This is the first time I have been examined—a subpoena was brought to me last Saturday—I have seen Baker at the Turk's Head—I have not seen him and Marson together to my knowledge; I have seen them both in the house, but not at the same time; I am sure of that—I saw Baker there in the morning part of that day.
By THE COURT. Baker was not there to my knowledge in the afternoon or evening—his father lives about 20 yards off.
EMILY FEWTRELL (re-examined). I did not identify Marson till I heard his voice, and I put my hand upon another person, but I was satisfied afterwards that he was not the man, directly he spoke—it was between the lights.
MARSON was further charged with a previous conviction at Worship Street, in February, 1875, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
BAKER**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
HOMAN**— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. METCALFE Q.C. and MR. SLADE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GILL the Defence.
bank account at Rotherhithe—I got a deposit book, No. 2,572, and in the beginning of last year I had 53l. 3s. there—I kept the book in a box in my bed-room, with the acknowledgments for the deposits, and some clothes—my husband's acknowledgments were also there—the box was unlocked—I have known the prisoner two or two and a half years—she used to come to the house frequently—we were very intimate—I made a daughter of her—she went all over my house—on Sunday evening, the 17th December, about 8 o'clock, I missed the book and the other documents—my husband's documents were all gone and nearly all mine—I had seen them safe about a fortnight before—the prisoner came to my house once very much distressed, and said she thought she should have the brokers in, and I took my book and borrowed 2l. for her, which I lent to her—she saw me take the book from the box and saw me put it back—I know nothing of this notice of withdrawal—it is not my mark nor was it made by my authority; I never gave anybody authority to issue a notice of withdrawal for me—this is not my mark to this receipt for the withdrawal of 50l.—the prisoner has a niece, a little girl—next morning, after missing the book, I went to the prisoner and said "Sarah, I have lost my book"—she said "Mrs. Perkins, if you have lost your book, do not say a word to anybody, but God will give it to you double-fold"—I afterwards went with the constable to the prisoner's house and said "Sarah, if you have done this, own to it like a good girl"—she said "You will see."
Cross-examined. She has been living close to me all the time—I did not give her the book to get the 2l.—I took it myself—I did not go with her—my savings' bank account is separate from my husband's—I told the prisoner that I had a few words with my husband, but I was not in the habit of telling her about differences with him about money matters—I never proposed to her that we should both take a public-house together—I never gave her any authority to take the book and never knew that she done it—she was with me every day from 8th December till she was taken in custody—I saw her on Saturday, the 16th, the day the, money was obtained—nobody was there but the prisoner and myself—I do not know Mr. Truckle—I was speaking to the prisoner on the 16th at the gate of my house, but I did not give her the book while we were standing at the gate, nor did she give me any book or papers on that day—I know Mrs. Mary White, I saw her on Saturday, the 16th, in her room—the prisoner was there and asked me to lend her my shawl as she was going' out, and I lent it to her off my shoulders—I did not, just before she went out, give her a book and some papers and tell her it was time for her to go—she left me and I saw again that day, but she did not give me anything—I spoke to her next morning when I missed the book; her husband was there, nobody else—I said "Sarah, if you have done this, own to it like a good girl," and she said "You will see"—I did not mention that when I was examined before the Magistrate.
Re-examined. Rumbold, from the post-office, went to her on the Monday, and said that he wished her to go with him—she did not then say to me that I had given her the book—I never heard that she had said so before to-day—she said that God would give it to me—I am not on bed terms with my husband at all; we might have a few words like a man and wife have—I am no scholar—he assisted me, and when I said that he had better write to the post-office he went there instead, and when we came to look,
his documents were gone, and mine too—his book was not gone, he kept that himself.
ANNIE PEEL . I am an assistant at the Jamaica Road post-office, Bermondsey—on 8th December, the prisoner called and asked me to fill up a notice of withdrawal as she was no scholar—she produced deposit book No, 2,572, with the address of M. A. Perkins, some cottage, Rotherhithe—she asked me to fill up the notice, and asked if she could have the warrant left at the post-office till called for, as she did not know which house they would be at, as they were about moving—I filled up the notice of withdrawal—I saw the book and saw that there was more than 50l. there, but the prisoner said that she only wanted 50l. out then—I sent the notice to the chief officer—the prisoner made her mark and I witnessed it—this is it (produced)—I then gave her the deposit book and she left—she came again on Monday, the 11th, and asked if the papers had arrived; she had not got her book with her, and I told her to come again—she came in the afternoon and brought Mary Ann Perkin's book—she was asked to call a little later on and she came about 4.30—this (produced) is the warrant for 50l. payable to Mary Ann Perkins—I did not give the prisoner the money, because she could not bring anybody to identify her as Mrs. Perkins—she said that it was very awkward as she did not know anybody who would know her as she generally dealt at Deptford, and no tradesmen near would know her—the deposits had been made at Rotherhithe, and we suggested that she should get Miss Crowson, the daughter of the postmistress to identify her, to witness her mark—she went away and came back with the book—I then found that the warrant was signed "Mary Ann Perkins," and a cross put to it—she said that Miss Crowson had guided her hand, and had put the cross to make it all right—I said that Miss Crowson must put her name as a witness, and she went away and came back and said that Miss Crowson said that she was not going to do it as she did not know anything of her—I told her she had better go to the post-office, and I gave her back the deposit book and the warrant, and she left.
MART ANN PERKINS (re-examined). I have not parted with my book to anybody on any occasion—I borrowed 2l. of a Mrs. Watson—I did not take the book to the post-office and get the 2l.—I took it to Mrs. Watson, at the Blacksmith's Arms, and left it there about a week and three days—Mrs. Watson was to advance the money.
By MR. METCALFE. I borrowed the money of Mrs. Watson, on the security of the book—I repaid her, and she returned it—that was about five weeks before this—I live at Duncan Cottage.
EBENEZER ERSKINE EVANS . The notice of withdrawal came into my hands, and I issued this warrant for the payment of the money to Mrs. Perkins, of Duncan Cottage, Rotherhithe Street—that was sent on a flyleaf, addressed to Mrs. M. A. Perkins.
GEORGE PHILIP MORRIS . I am a clerk in the Saving's Bank Department, General Post-office—that is in St. Paul's Churchyard—on Tuesday, 12th December, the prisoner came there, and said that she had received a saving bank order for 50l., and had presented it at the Jamaica Street post-office, and had been refused payment—she produced book 2,572, in the name of Mar)' Ann Perkins—I saw that all transactions had taken place at the Rotherhithe post-office, and suggested that she had better have the warrant transferred to that post-office, which was done—the warrant was altered—
on Friday, 15th December, she called again, and said that she had presented the order at the Rotherhithe post-office, and payment had, been refused to her there, as they could not identify her; I asked her if she could give any evidence to show that she was Mrs. Perkins; if she could produce her marriage certificate, or any other document—she said that she could get the document in three or four day's time, but she could not wait, she wanted the money immediately—she produced certain acknowledgments relating to M. A. Perkins's book and her husband's—I just saw them—I told her we would send instructions to the people at the Rotherhithe post-office to say that if she could produce documentary evidence showing that she was Mrs. Perkins, they were to pay her—afterwards, on the 18th, I went with Rumbold to Rotherhithe, to the prisoner's house, and saw her.
JOHN CHARLES EDWARD BRIDGE . I am a clerk,. in the savings' bank—on 12th December, I received a communication from Mr. Morris, and gave instructions that the warrant should be transferred from Jamaica Road to the Rotherhithe post-office, and the warrant was sent out addressed to Mrs. Mary Ann Perkins, post-office, Rotherhithe, till called for—the prisoner came again on the 15th, and said "I cannot get my money at Rotherhithe"—she produced book, 2,572, and I asked her what evidence she had got that she was Mrs. Perkins—she produced a bundle of acknowledgements, some of which, she said, were her own and some her husband's—I opened the book, and saw a mark at the top of the book, which all depositor's have to make, and she said "That is my mark"—she said that the first deposits were made by her, and some by an elderly female—I asked her if the elderly female could not identify her; she said "No; she is in the hospital with a bad leg"—I asked her if her husband could not go—she said "No; he is a dock constable, and does not come home till late at night"—I asked her if she could not get anybody else to go and identify her—she said "No; but she hoped she could have the money, because she wanted to open a little shop, and had been waiting eight days already;". I sympathised with her, and told her I would do what I could, and ordered the post-master at Rotherhithe to pay on the production of the evidence which she had produced to me—I sent those instructions to Rotherhithe.
HANNAH DODSON CROWSON . I am the wife the letter receiver at Rotherhithe—on 14th December, at 10.30 the prisoner came there and produced a deposit book of Rotherhithe, 2,572, Mary Ann Perkins—I found that it was issued from our office, and I gave her an official letter which she opened in my presence—on looking at the book I found that the deposits had been taken and entered by my daughter—the prisoner handed me the warrant contained in the letter, and I noticed that it had been transferred to our office from the Jamaica Road office—I had received instructions—I asked her to wait until my daughter came in, and she waited—when my daughter—came in she looked at the book and said "I recognise the book, but these deposits were brought by an elderly female, and I do not know you"—she said "That is a person who worked at our house, but she is now ill in the infirmary and cannot come"—I asked her if she would be well enough to come next day, she said no, she was sure she would not be, as she had a very bad leg—I told her I should have to wait for further instructions before I could pay her—she said that she had sent two or three deposits by her niece, a little girl, and in the course of an hour or two she came back with a little girl—I asked the child who she gave the deposits to when she
brought them, she said that she could not see the person there—my daughter was there, but neither of us recognised the girl, and I refused again—I received further instructions from the head office, and the prisoner called again and presented the warrant and the same deposit book—she told me that she had been to the General Office—she produced a quantity of acknowledgments of the deposits, some of which were before No. 2,572, and some were in the name of George Perkins, her husband—the warrant is signed Mary Ann Perkins, with a cross—my daughter wrote Mary Ann Perkins, and the prisoner put her cross, and then I gave her the 50l. in bank notes—I noticed that there was still some money left.
Cross-examined. I believe it was all paid in 5l. notes.
ROTH CHARLOTTE CROWSON . I am an assistant at the Rotherhithe Post-office—on Monday night, 11th December, the prisoner came and presented this warrant for 50l., payable at the Jamaica Road post-office—she asked me to sign it, saying "There had been a dispute about the matter as they do not know me at the Jamaica post-office"—I said that it was not likely I was going to sign a warrant made payable at the Jamaica Road—I did not guide the prisoner's hand to write this "Mary Ann Perkins" on this warrant, nor was it written in my presence—she came again on the 14th, and produced Mrs. Perkins' deposit book with entries made by me—I said that I knew the book, but I did not know her, as the deposits were brought by an elderly female—she said "She is in the infirmary"—on Saturday, the 16th she produced to my mother and me several acknowledgments of George Perkins, and said that she was Mrs. Perkins—I erased the name of Mary Ann Perkins from the warrant, and handed her a pen, and I wrote my name at the bottom as a witness—I then entered the withdrawal in the deposit book, gave her back the book and saw my mother pay her the 50l
Cross-examined. She was in the office three times after the 8th; on the 11th, the 14th, and the 16th—our office is at the top of Rotherhithe Street.
HENRY RUMBOLD . I am a constable attached to the General Post-office in consequence of instructions I went with Mr. Morris and Mrs. Crowson to Rotherhithe, and saw the prisoner in the parlour of a milliner's shop, at 52, Trinity Street, Rotherhithe—I told her that Mr. Morris and Mrs. Crowson identified her and that a gentleman identified her as making enquiries at the General Post-office—she said "I know nothing whatever about it"—I said "While I am here I should like to see what you have got in the house"—she said "You can search"—I searched the house, and found 1l. 13s. 9d., but no trace of the book or the documents—I took her to the General Office where she was asked about the case and said that she knew nothing whatever about it—on 3rd January I served a notice, and said "This is a notice for you to produce the savings' bank book, and also the acknowledgments of deposit made by Mr. and Mrs. Perkins"—she said "Mrs. Perkins has got the acknowledgments and also the savings' bank book"—I said "What do you mean?"—she said "I gave it to her on Monday about an hour before you came down. I also gave her the 50l., except 5s., at the same time"—I said "You cashed one of the 5l. notes at a draper's, in Three Colts Lane, Limehouse"—she said "Yes, I did"—she also said that Mrs. Perkins gave her 1s. to go to the post-office twice for her.
Cross-examined. I have not been examined before—the prisoner's house is not five minutes walk from Mrs. Perkins'—four of us went there on the 18th; we did not all go in at once—Mrs. Crowson and Mr. Morris went in
and I waited outside—the conversation I have given you was after I went in—I saw her in the shop.
GEORGE PERKINS . I am a constable of the Surrey Commercial Docks—I had a savings' bank book as well as my wife, and documents and receipts for payments, which I kept in my wife's box, tied up in a bundle—on a Sunday evening, at 8 o'clock, my wife went to fetch her book for me to look at, as there was 2s. to make up, and she discovered that it was lost, and my documents as well—I kept my book in another part of the house—I gave no one authority to take the book.
Cross-examined. My documents were kept in my wife's book—my book was kept in my writing desk—I have not had frequent disagreements with my wife about money—we have had a few words, but nothing out of the way—that was a few weeks before—I have not followed her down the street threatening to murder her—it was not I who gave the prisoner into custody—I gave information to the General Post-office—I have not seen the prisoner much in my house, but I have occasionally.
Re-examined. My wife told me that she had handed her book to Mrs. Burke, and that upset me—I told her it was very foolish, that if she wanted money I could always draw some from my bank book—I have never lost a day's work and never kept money away from her—there is no pretence for saying that my wife and I take different lines—that is the prisoner's husband who is now suggesting these questions about my following her down the street.
Witness for the Defence.
MARY WHITE . I live at 52, Trinity Street, Rotherhithe, and keep house for my father—the prisoner is my landlady—I know Mrs. Perkins; she has been in the habit of coming backwards and forwards to the prisoner's—I remember her coming on the Saturday—I was at home—I always open the shop for the prisoner—I was in the parlour; nobody was there but me and the prisoner—between 10 and 11 o'clock Mrs. Perkins came in, she took the prisoner's jacket off her and put her own shawl on her, and she then handed her a book and some papers, as the prisoner sat on the sofa and said "Come along with me, my dear, I thought you would have been out before this"—the prisoner said to me "Lock the door, Mary," and they both went out together—I am quite sure that I saw a book and some papers; I solemnly swear it—I have had no conversation with Mrs. Perkins since.
Cross-examined. I am single—I have kept house for my father since my mother's death—he occupies the front parlour upstairs; we have only one room—I occupy the same bed-room as my father; he is a carman—I do nothing for my living—the prisoner does not pay me anything for opening the shop for her—I have been there three years; I have only been at home' two years—I was in service when my mother died—my father has two young children—my other sister is married and gone away—that is the prisoner's husband (pointing him out) he is a cooper, I believe—I know nothing about the the savings' bank—when Mrs. Perkins came in the prisoner was ready dressed—Mrs. Perkins took off her jacket and put on the shawl—I do not know whether the shawl was smarter than the jacket—it was not a very warm morning—it was a thick jacket—she did not ask her to lend it to her, she took it off without speaking—I can't tell you what sort of a book it was, it appeared as if she did not want me to see it—it was not the same colour as this testament, I think it was more of a drab
colour, but I could not exactly sec it—as she handed her the shawl she gave her the book and papers, but they were passed so quick that I cannot tell you anything about them—the papers were like this (foolscap) and they were doubled up in this way—I never heard that the prisoner was going to move—she had not been there all the time my father had; she was only there seven week—I never heard that she was going to move to Jamaica Road—the brokers were not in about the time she came—I never heard of her borrowing money of Mrs. Burke—they never mentioned to me that they were going to America; I had not heard it discussed—I new had any conversation with Mrs. Perkins, only I used to open the shop for her of a morning—I live in the house still and the husband lives there—I have never talked it over with him—I have only seen him two or three times, and he has never said a word to me, except asking me what time Mrs. Burke went out on Saturday, if I did not mind telling him—he asked me if "I would tell him what I knowed"—I said that I could not state the time she went out, but 1 thought it was between. 10 and 11 o'clock—that was the time that Mrs. Perkins gave her a book and some papers—I don't know whether it was on the Monday or Tuesday—I went to the police-court on Friday, but I was not called—I told the husband that I had seen Mrs. Perkins give her a book and papers on the Monday or Tuesday, and on Friday I went to the police-court—the husband was there and I was not called—I did not tell the solicitor, because I did not see him.
GUILTY— Judgment respited.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. CUNNINGHAM conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HAMMOND . I live at 39, Mallow Street, Walworth Road, and am a glass manufacturer—I know the prisoner—on 29th September last, I sent him for some goods which had been left the day before at a public-house, and told him to take them to Mr. Jacobs—I gave him an invoice and asked him to bring me back the money—I gave him no authority to sign a cheque—this endorsement "Thomas Hammond "I believe to be in the prisoner's handwriting—I have never received the proceeds of that cheque.
WILLIAM HENRY WALPOLE . I am a warehouseman to David Jacobs, of 33, Haymarket—on 29th September, the prisoner-brought me some goods and the invoice produced; I took the goods in, and after seeing that they were right, took the prisoner to Mr. Jacobs to get the money—I saw Mr. J acobs write out the cheque and hand it to the prisoner—it has been returned through the bank—I have never received the money.
FREDERICK SMITH (Policeman L 206). I took the prisoner into custody this day week, and charged him with forging an endorsement on a cheque for 3l. 16s.—I mentioned Mr. Hammond's name, the prisoner said "Quite right"—he did not say anything about being authorised, or about Mr. Hammond having told him to bring back the cheque in any case.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "Mr. Hammond asked me
to take the goods, and told me to bring the money, not in a cheque, he told me to ask for cash. He said "If they pay you in a cheque I do not know how I shall get it cashed; I want the money the same day." The next morning he gave me the bill receipted to get the money, and told me to be sure and bring the money back with me. I got the cheque cashed and took the money to his place at Bermondsey; I waited there for some hours until his little boy went home, and I sent him in to tell his father; I was outside with the money. I waited an hour, and I went myself to his house with the money, and his wife insulted me and slammed the—door in my face; I waited some time to see Mr. Hammond, but I could not, and being out of work at the time I used some of the money and I could not replace it."
THOMAS HAMMOND . I was in bed at the time—my missus said "Get away from my door," and he ran away from the door—she said "You blackguard, why do you run away?"—I could not find the prisoner before the 2nd of January—I asked the prisoner if he would give me 2l. 16s., instead of being locked up.
Prisoner's Defence. I had a situation to go into the next day, and he offered to take 2l. of the money, and I was not prepared to pay it at the time.
NOT GUILTY .
205. HENRY TOUCH (47) , PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully and fraudulently obtaining 1l. from Robert Hawkins, by false pretences; also to stealing a watch of Thomas Philpin**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. And
MR. DENISON and MR. F. REED conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT, the Defence.
TIMOTHY RAGAN . I live in Kent Street—on Saturday night, 9th December I was in the Mint Gate Tavern, near St. George's church, drinking with the prisoner—we came out and were talking together—the prisoner interfered, I asked him what business he bad to interfere, and put my hand against him, and he struck me in the face—I returned the blow—he asked his cousin for a knife, and after he got it he plunged it into my side—I fell to the ground senseless.
Cross-examined. I was not turned out of the public—I left work at 6 o'clock—it was about 11 o'clock when this happened—I was drinking and talking between those hours; I was the worse for drink—my sister was sentenced to two years for assaulting a constable.
HERBERT NEALE SMITH . I am house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on the evening of 9th December, Timothy Regan was brought in with a punctured wound in the middle of his left cheek, half an inch long, and going down into the lining membrane of the mouth—there was a wound 2 1/2 in on his left side by the hip bone, deeper behind than in front, which appeared as if inflicted from behind, or from left to right, and there was a slight second wound on the inner part of his left arm—they could be inflicted by a knife—the wound in the side was of a serious character.
Cross-examined. He was in liquor when he came.
compartment, quarrelling—I was asked to eject them—I pushed the door open and they went out—the prisoner and Regan went across the rod, and into Church Street—the prisoner said "You were going to use a knife to me just now"—Regan said "You had better go home"—they afterward began to fight—I saw no knife, but I was then 20 yards away—I afterwards saw Regan on the ground—I followed the prisoner and brought him back—he said that he had done nothing.
Cross-examined. There was a crowd in Church Street, as well as in the public-house—I only know the prisoner by sight—I have heard that Regan is a violent man.
WILLIAM BRICKELL (Policeman M R 9). On the evening of 9th December, I was in Blackman Street, about 11 o'clock—I saw the prisoner running from Church Street—I heard some one say that he had stabbed a man—I followed and caught him in the Mint and brought him back to Church Street, where I saw Regan lying on the ground bleeding—I did not tear the prisoner speak.
Cross-examined. I said in my deposition "Regan was like a madman"—that is true.
NOT GUILTY .
CLARA AMELIA SMITH . I live at 21, Cochrane Street, St. John's Wood, and was married to the prisoner on 23rd May, 1874, at St. Giles's, Camberwell—I produce the certificate. (This certified the marriage of Thomas Francis Teagle, batchelor, to Clara Amelia Smith, spinster, at St. Giles, Camberwell, on 23rd May, 1874.) I had known him about eighteen months—he described himself to me as a batchelor—I lived with him until the last day of July, when he deserted me.
EDMUND REED (Detective Officer P). I apprended the prisoner, and told him the charge—he said "I think you have made a mistake"—I said "No; I have made no mistake"—he said "I was led to suppose by my solicitor that my first wife was dead"—I produce a certificate from Superintendent District Registrar's office, Ampthill, of a marriage solemnised at the parish church, in the parish of Marston, in Bedfordshire, on 2nd October, 1860, between Thomas Francis Teagle, aged 19, bachelor, labourer, of Marston, and Rachael Wooding, aged 20, spinster—I did not know at the time of the second wedding, where the prisoner was living—I knew before that he was living at 166, East Street, Walworth, about 1872—that is about ten minute's walk from Dover Road—he kept a coffee-house there.
Cross-examined. I have not spoken to him at the coffee-house—his first wife went there.
Re-examined. She created a disturbance outside his place, and was charged by the police—I did not see the disturbance.
ANN SPENCE . I am the wife of Thomas Spence, of 122, Dover Road, Mrs. Teagle lived in my house for two years, about three years ago—I last saw her about two months ago, when she came back from the country—I
have heard of the coffee-shop, No. 166, East Street, Walworth—I live close handy.
Mr. Straight submitted that there was no case, as there was no identification of Mrs. Teagle, in which view THE COURT concurred, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before Robert Malcom Kerr, Esq.
211. FREDERICK SMITH (21), GEORGE OWEN (20), WILLIAM THOMPSON, alias BROWN (24), and JAMES WATSON (20), burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Bachelor, and stealing one petticoat, two gowns, and other goods.
MR. CLARK conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BACHELOR . I live at Kings Langley—a canal divides my premises from Mr. Warren's—on the night of 29th November, I went to bed about 11 o'clock—my wife fastened up—I came down first the next morning, and found a fastening of the window had been put back by some instrument—the window was a little way open, but the blind being down I did not notice it at first—on examining the house several things were missing—; my daughter can speak to them.
SARAH BACHELOR . I am the wife of the last witness—we have a work-room in our house—I fastened it up about 11 o'clock that evening—before going to bed—I came down in the morning about 6 o'clock—I did not notice anything then—no one could have entered secretly after that hour—at 7 o'clock, in consequence of receiving information, I examined the work-room, and found the window latch had been pushed back and the window was a little open.
ELIZABETH BACHELOR . I live with my father—on the 29th November we had been using the work-room—before going to bed we left in it a grey felt petticoat, two night dresses, one unfinished, and two pieces of calico, one commenced to be made up—the articles produced are mine—one of them is marked "S. A. B."—it is difficult to swear to calico, but I believe this (produced) is mine—none of these things were found the next morning.
SARAH BACHELOR . I am a dressmaker, and live at King's Langley—on the 29th November I left in the work-room a pocket-handkerchief marked with a black S in the corner, and some mittens—this handkerchief and mitten produced are mine—I missed the handkerchief and a pair of mittens the next morning.
WILLIAM HYSLOP . I manage the pawnbroking business of Mr. Hyslop, at Hemel Hempsted—on the morning of 30th November, between 11.30 and 12 o'clock, the articles produced were brought to me to pawn, by the prisoner Smith, who gave the name of John Smith—I took them in pawn;
there were other articles which I did not take because they were unfinished goods—I refused to take the night dress and the calico.
THOMAS PEARMAN (Policeman M 60). I am stationed at Hemel Hempsted—I received this petticoat (produced) from the last witness—there was a ticket attached to it with "John Smith, London," marked on it—I afterwards saw these two night dresses (produced) at the Coach and Horses beer-shop.
WILLIAM YOUNG . I am a labourer and convey goods from King's Langley railway station—on Wednesday, 29th November, about 9.30 a.m. I saw the prisoner Smith going towards the station; he was cutting a stick—I saw him again with the three other prisoners, about 7.15, near Mr. Warren's and Mr. Bachelor's—one had a bag underneath his arm—they, were looking round the house—I saw them again, between 8 and 9 o'clock, on the bridge between Mr. Bachelor's and Mr. Warren's—two were on one side of the bridge and two came over—I am sure about the morning.
ROBERT FREEMAM . I work for Mr. Evans, at Home Park Mills, near. King's Langley—on the night of the 29th November I was near Mr. Warren's shop, about 7 o'clock—I saw all the prisoners there, they were standing two by two—I was about 5 or 6 yards away—I am sure they are the men—they were about 100 yards from Mr. Warren's.
THOMAS LEANEY . I keep a lodging-house called the Coach and Horses, at Hemel Hempsted—on the night of the 30th November the prisoners came to my house—they all slept in the same room that night—I saw the bag found underneath the sofa in the living-room, it contained some night dresses and some calico; I handed them to the policeman—I was present when the constables apprehended them—they were in bed, sleeping two and two in two beds—Brown and Watson left last—I heard something drop—I could not say whether it was a knife or some other instrument—I saw them grasp it.
ELIZA LEANEY . I am the wife of Thomas Leaney—on the night of 30th November the prisoners lodged at our house—Smith and Owen came first—they asked if I had two beds to let as they wanted lodgings for four—the two others came in afterwards—I found the bag produced, under the sofa—I saw the bag examined—it contained night dresses and calico—I did not see who brought the bag.
JOHN CREASEY . I am one of the County police stationed at Hemel Hempsted—I apprehended the prisoners on some other charge on the 1st December at the Coach and Horses beer-shop—they were altogether—I kicked against the bag produced accidentally, coming out—I searched the prisoners at the station and found on Brown this mitten and the handkerchief.
Smith's Defence. I bought the things.
Thompson's Defence. The things found on me I got from Smith; he told me he bought them.
SMITH— GUILTY .
OWEN and WATSON— NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
212. FREDERICK SMITH, GEORGE OWEN, WILLIAM THOMPSON , and JAMES WATSON , were again indicted for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Warren, and stealing therein a coat, a pair of shoes, and other articles, his property.
MR. CLARK conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM WARREN . I keep a grocer's shop, at King's Langley—on the night of 29th November, I left my premises all secure and went to bed—the next morning I missed some twist tobacco, which was kept at the back of the shop—I also missed some money—the tobacco produced is similar to what I am selling, and I believe it is mine—I saw the tobacco upon the shelf on the previous day—I also missed a coat, a pair of shoes, three half-sovereigns, three half-crowns, and some coppers.
Watson's Defence. I bought some of that tobacco in Shoreditch.
Smith's Defence. On 30th November I left the Green Man public-house and was walking through Hemel Hempsted. I went to the Coach and Horses to get lodgings. Whilst having dinner a man offered me the boots for sale; I gave him 11s. for them.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Lindley:.
213. In the case of ALFRED GADD (28) , charged with feloniously setting fire to a stack of com, the property of William Lucas; upon, the evidence of MR. WILLIAM LINTON , Governor of Petworth Gaol, and MR. JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON ,Surgeon of Newgate, the Jury found the prisoner to be insane and unfit to plead— Ordered to he detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY FEBERUARY 5TH, 1877.